Imo's...yum!
Last night we had Imo's Pizza for dinner (thank you, Mom and Dad Z!). It was quite delicious. It's been a looooooong time since we've had Imo's, and it was very good. We did our usual: a mushroom and pepperoni pizza and split a house salad.
The funny thing about Imo's is that unless you are from STL, you hate it. HATE it. About five years ago I started informally straw-polling "foreigners" about Imo's. "Oh, you didn't grow up here? Have you had Imo's pizza? What did you think?" Invariably, the response was, "Ugh! That isn't pizza! That's cardboard with some weird funky white stuff on it ya'all call cheese. It looks like it was either left in the oven way too long, or like it was run over by a steamroller, or possibly both."
Now, if you ask native St. Louisans, the response is typically, "I love Imo's pizza!" Apparently there is quite a market outside of STL for Imo's, from people who grew up here but were forced to move elsewhere, to ship their pies. For a bazillion dollars you can ship an unbaked Imo's pizza just about anywhere, which is very cool. Having never been really forced to part with my beloved Imo's, I can't tell you if it's worth it or not. But, judging by Stef's reaction, who is a die-hard Imo's lover and who lives in Michigan, it's not quite worth it when you can come in a couple times a year and get it then. Not sure if she'd cave and pay it if she wasn't able to come in. We'll have to ask her, but after she gets back from her fabulous vacation trekking around the base of Mont Blanc.
I feel so very cosmopolitan that I'm able to talk about my friend who goes hiking in Europe. She leaves tomorrow afternoon, and let's all wish her a safe and happy trip. You and Moni have tons of fun, Pookers!
Tomorrow night we have another event here at the spa. We're hosting the St. Louis media launch for AirForce Nutrisoda, which is a new softdrink with all sorts of healthy crap mixed in. Some of them aren't bad, but some of them have an aftertaste that I think resembles the stuff that puddles off my car tires after a hard rain. Not that I've ever tasted that; I'm just using the comparison for literary sake. The tagline for the soda is, "You are what you drink." Which makes me go, "Ewwwww." If I am what I drink, then I'm a freakin' venti decaf mocha, non-fat, no whip. And in the winter I'm extra-hot, thank you.
Stopped by the hospital (I'm so tempted to just write hospital, not "the" hospital, like they do in England, and to start calling vacation "holiday," because I just like that way that sounds: "I'm stopping by to see Cloyd in hospital before my holiday. Tally ho!") and his spirits are high. Of course, that could be due to the little morphine drip button he gets to press every six minutes that keeps him relatively pain-free. Apparently the morphine affects him much like it does everyone else, putting him in an altered state and able to see things that aren't really there. Well, I'm assuming he normally doesn't have a little naked man standing on his pillow showing him how to bathe. Just a guess.
Some dude from St. Louis won the home run derby last night, which is way cool. I forget his name. He's playing in Philadelphia, I think I heard, but he's from the Lou. Ryan somebody. Hold on, lemme google it...Ryan Howard. Congratulations, buddy!
Yes, I can write "google" as a verb now, as it's been officially added to the Merriam Webster dictionary. Inflected forms include googled and googling. That's one of my new favorite words: googling. It's right up there with grommet and rutabega.
Raining here today, and I love it! The grass will be greener, and everything will be cleaner, and rain makes me want to stay inside and work. Makes me thankful that I'm somewhere dry and cozy. M ran out to the yard this morning to make sure his newly-installed downspout drainage thingy was working. It is. He's such a good engineering doobie.
No walk for Zozo today if it keeps raining. She'll just have to stay inside and play with all her toys and Grandma. Have fun, Doodlebug! No motorboat while eating!
The funny thing about Imo's is that unless you are from STL, you hate it. HATE it. About five years ago I started informally straw-polling "foreigners" about Imo's. "Oh, you didn't grow up here? Have you had Imo's pizza? What did you think?" Invariably, the response was, "Ugh! That isn't pizza! That's cardboard with some weird funky white stuff on it ya'all call cheese. It looks like it was either left in the oven way too long, or like it was run over by a steamroller, or possibly both."
Now, if you ask native St. Louisans, the response is typically, "I love Imo's pizza!" Apparently there is quite a market outside of STL for Imo's, from people who grew up here but were forced to move elsewhere, to ship their pies. For a bazillion dollars you can ship an unbaked Imo's pizza just about anywhere, which is very cool. Having never been really forced to part with my beloved Imo's, I can't tell you if it's worth it or not. But, judging by Stef's reaction, who is a die-hard Imo's lover and who lives in Michigan, it's not quite worth it when you can come in a couple times a year and get it then. Not sure if she'd cave and pay it if she wasn't able to come in. We'll have to ask her, but after she gets back from her fabulous vacation trekking around the base of Mont Blanc.
I feel so very cosmopolitan that I'm able to talk about my friend who goes hiking in Europe. She leaves tomorrow afternoon, and let's all wish her a safe and happy trip. You and Moni have tons of fun, Pookers!
Tomorrow night we have another event here at the spa. We're hosting the St. Louis media launch for AirForce Nutrisoda, which is a new softdrink with all sorts of healthy crap mixed in. Some of them aren't bad, but some of them have an aftertaste that I think resembles the stuff that puddles off my car tires after a hard rain. Not that I've ever tasted that; I'm just using the comparison for literary sake. The tagline for the soda is, "You are what you drink." Which makes me go, "Ewwwww." If I am what I drink, then I'm a freakin' venti decaf mocha, non-fat, no whip. And in the winter I'm extra-hot, thank you.
Stopped by the hospital (I'm so tempted to just write hospital, not "the" hospital, like they do in England, and to start calling vacation "holiday," because I just like that way that sounds: "I'm stopping by to see Cloyd in hospital before my holiday. Tally ho!") and his spirits are high. Of course, that could be due to the little morphine drip button he gets to press every six minutes that keeps him relatively pain-free. Apparently the morphine affects him much like it does everyone else, putting him in an altered state and able to see things that aren't really there. Well, I'm assuming he normally doesn't have a little naked man standing on his pillow showing him how to bathe. Just a guess.
Some dude from St. Louis won the home run derby last night, which is way cool. I forget his name. He's playing in Philadelphia, I think I heard, but he's from the Lou. Ryan somebody. Hold on, lemme google it...Ryan Howard. Congratulations, buddy!
Yes, I can write "google" as a verb now, as it's been officially added to the Merriam Webster dictionary. Inflected forms include googled and googling. That's one of my new favorite words: googling. It's right up there with grommet and rutabega.
Raining here today, and I love it! The grass will be greener, and everything will be cleaner, and rain makes me want to stay inside and work. Makes me thankful that I'm somewhere dry and cozy. M ran out to the yard this morning to make sure his newly-installed downspout drainage thingy was working. It is. He's such a good engineering doobie.
No walk for Zozo today if it keeps raining. She'll just have to stay inside and play with all her toys and Grandma. Have fun, Doodlebug! No motorboat while eating!
posted by Amy at 7:58 AM
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