I Love Tuesdays

Pizza Night, Pizza Night, Oh how I love Pizza Night!

The above needs to be sung while doing jazz hands, with your head shaking, eyes closed, and letting your hips have a little spazz attack. I’d show you a how to video but that would be embarrassing.
The Skippie Team loves pizza night. Not so much Fifty, because he doesn’t get any but the rest of us (me and The Boyfriend) loves it.
Living in a metropolitan city before, I took for granted all the restaurants and food deliveries I had at my disposal. Between lunch breaks from work and random night outs, I spent a hefty chunk of my paycheck for someone else to prepare my meals. Life here is very different.
Le Petit Village has one bistro, where we have never eaten a meal. During the summer we’d sit outside for a drink or an ice cream but at night the Belgian and German tourists would descend and take up all the tables. And the owner seems to like it that way. He moved here from Paris two years ago and he doesn’t seem very ‘locals’ friendly. One day The Boyfriend stopped by and wanted a bowl of ice cream, the bistro man told him to go away, he was too busy. Not smart. Especially since the last owner wasn’t very locals friendly either. The story goes…
The previous owner and his wife moved to Le Petit Village from up North. On their bistro’s first weekend open some local hunters came in wanting a few glasses of Pastis (Provencal hunters drink Pastis like water. That scares the hell out of me. They’re heavily armed and drunk). The owner refused to serve them, he said he didn’t want dirty hunters in his bar. A few weeks later the owner’s car had been burnt out and the bistro had been set fire to. I’m not saying there’s a connection but I’m real friendly to all the local villagers.
Anyhoo, I heard the new bistro owner is looking to sell and move back to Paris.
Back to my love of pizza night (Pizza Night, Pizza Night, oh how I love Pizza Night!)
Our closest restaurant other than the bistro where we don’t eat is over twenty minutes away (and with snow and ice, almost an hour). No deliveries, no fast food, no delis. If you’re hungry, your making the food yourself. Except for Tuesdays.
Tuesday nights, the pizza man comes to Le Petit Village and parks his van in front of Le Petit Notre Dame. For one evening a week, I get to pretend that I don’t live in a teeny village with 250 other arsonists… oops… I meant people.
Allow me to share my joy with you. Feel free to sing the pizza night anthem as you peruse…
Heino for me, Carlsberg for him.

Olives come on the pizzas whether you want them or not.
My current favorite, the Norvégienne; smoked salmon, shrimp, mozzarella and creme fraîche

Méli-Mélo (awesome name); goats cheese, honey and serrano ham
round one

The Spaniard showed up just in time for pizza night.
Supposedly he was just driving by and happened to hear The Boyfriend’s voice while he was ordering at the pizza van. Yeah right (RE: lo-jack).
He said he’d be back next Tuesday. Yippee.

12 responses to “I Love Tuesdays”

  1. Ha! Pizza night!!! That is so unique in your little town. Charming? Yes. And I will eat two of the second pizza's please!!! That sounds so good right now. Perhaps the next owner will be local friendly to you all…what strange behavior for them to send the local's away…and keep your neighbors on very good terms.


  2. Ellen – it is very charming! They have pizza nights all over Provence (not sure about the rest of France). Vans park in small villages on certain nights of the week. Love it!


  3. That looks like the pizza from Giorgio! Small town intrigues…I know what you mean about the lack of take away food. We have a fancy shmancy restaurant here too, but the owners have sticks up their butts and sky-high prices. We've never eaten there in 10 years. I make my own pizza night, because up until 3 months ago, I bought it from the pizzeria. But the new Indian cook has been burning the pizzas. Who wants to eat blackened, floury pizza crust?


  4. French pizza kinda cracks me up, always, (well from what I have had which aint much) good but a little wacky. Got an, “Alsatian” pizza in some town near Avignon, cheese, thinly sliced onions, lardon…sliced up hot dog pieces. Damn good but still…


  5. Samantha – that's just weird. I was with it until sliced up hot dogs. But then again, isn't Alsatian another name for German Shepherd? I'm just saying…


  6. Can I just say that you must REALLY love that man to move with him to a near pizza-less wilderness. That is commitment.


  7. Tammy – are you making your pizzas from scratch and if so, will you be posting your recipe on your new recipe posts?Homemaker Man – I do. That's what I tell myself everyday here in the middle of bum f*ck egypt. I need a martini and a taxi.


  8. Hi, I added a comment yesterday answering the question you asked me on my blog! Did you get it?


  9. It was quite lengthy with my pizza recipe 😦


  10. If it has gone walk-a-bout in cyberville…I use pre-made fresh bases which I then freeze.I am utter crap at pastry and dough making.Thanks for your comment too. ciao ciao!


  11. this just made me super hungry… can i come visit you? ; )


  12. ohhellocupcake – anyone who speaks English is more than welcome in Le Petit Village!


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