I think that at some point before lunch I had an idea of something to write about when I got around to posting this evening. You know what though? Last night Breanna woke up around 10:15 or so and wouldn’t go back to sleep until 12:30 (at which point I had to stay up an extra half hour because by then I was halfway through a late-night rerun of an episode of CSI: Miami that I had never seen and I needed to see the end to find out if I was right. I was.). Tonight she was tired and went to sleep quite easily at 8 but inexplicably woke up by 9 and only just settled back down to sleep. Meanwhile, I can still hear Hayley rustling around in her bed and talking to Ernie. Between the two of them, this sleeping mutiny is wearing on my last nerve (ten straight days with Breanna, cripes) so whatever I was going to write about tonight is long forgotten. I should buy post-it notes for stuff like that.

So here. Let’s talk about the best pizza in the Montreal area. George seriously mocks me because I regularly take pictures of food so when he goes through my backups to see pictures he may have missed he always ends up with these random shots of dinner or breakfast or some sauce cooking on the stove. I don’t care. I like taking pictures of my food.

The other night I ate this. It’s a Tex-Mex pizza and I could just about die because it’s that good.

Instead of using sauce, the dough is covered with salsa. Then it’s layered with onions, mushrooms, peppers, black olives, mozzarella, and sliced grilled chicken. They throw in a container of sour cream which you then dump by heaping spoonfuls all over your slice.

It is insane. It is so good. It completely knocked my original Best Pizza Ever off the list. Which is okay because that one was up north near my grandmother’s place so it’s not like I ever get to have it regularly. At least this one is readily available.

I’m eating the last slice right now while typing this and what a shame that no one can taste it but me.