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Peeve Farm
Breeding peeves for show, not just to keep as pets
  Blog \Blôg\, n. [Jrg, fr. Jrg. "Web-log".
     See {Blogger, BlogSpot, LiveJournal}.]
     A stream-of-consciousness Web journal, containing
     links, commentary, and pointless drivel.


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Tuesday, May 28, 2002
22:05 - Working on the backlog... fueled by pizza.

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I'm going to be chipping away slowly at blog entries about this weekend, probably starting tomorrow; because tonight I'm just too tired, and there's too much to write about. It's just too daunting to think about covering the entire KSR and the Ukiah Memorial Day Parade tonight.

But at least I have one consolation: pizza from Pizza Etc.

It's a nondescript little take-and-bake place in the scale-model-of-a-strip-mall that sits at the southern end of East Road in Redwood Valley, right next to the on-ramp to Highway 20. (These are the kinds of directions we have to live by in rural North Coast land.) It's run by this little old lady with big round glasses who remembers her customers even if they come in only once every six months, and the pizza you get there is-- indescribably good.

I don't know quite what it is about Pizza Etc. pizza (which, by the way, my family and I pronounce "Pizza Ettica"). The crust is firm and tasty without being overly greasy, and lined with a coarse flour on the bottom that lets you slide the pizza from the cardboard onto the oven rack or pizza stone without it sticking-- it lends a certain something to the texture. And the cheese is piled thickly and the mushrooms are hand-sliced real thin, and they always volunteer to add garlic, which they heap on if you say yes.

I think it's the crust that does it. It fluffs up really thick during baking, with a rigid and dense bottom layer and a high-piled, fluffy top; it's a live-yeast dough, the lady who gave me mine on Sunday told me, and so the trick is to let it rise a little bit before baking it, if you have to freeze or refrigerate it.

See, the thing about Pizza Etc. is that they have a very, very, very loyal clientele. Loyal enough that people who have had pizza from there once, and who live far afield (like, for instance, in another state), will often pick up pizzas there to take home with them as they trek across country. I was asking the employee (who had been recently added, along with an espresso bar and lots of other accoutrements which could only indicate an intensely booming business) about how best to transport a pizza the 200 miles between Redwood Valley and San Jose without it getting too warm or stale; she said that this was a question that they get asked all the time. It doesn't surprise me, frankly-- the pizza is really that good-- but I guess I was made unanticipatedly happy hearing that the business was doing so well that not only is Pizza Ettica not only not likely to go under anytime soon, it's becoming a cult phenomenon.

And to think-- I knew them when they first opened their doors.

I just polished off the pizza I'd schlepped home in my trunk, after having my long-suffering and ever-cooperative parents transfer it from the refrigerator to the freezer two hours before I diverted my carful of Glorious Kinetic Spectators thence to pick it up (and provide them a potty break), and it was every bit as good as their pizza always is. It seems to be getting better, even. "15 minutes at 425°" is a mantra that's spreading throughout the West on refrigerator magnets and little slips of paper, and the lady at the counter said that she was working there in the off-time from a job she held down in San Francisco. She was erudite and helpful and seemed every bit as keenly aware of her customers' identities as the kindly little old lady who runs the store is, which leads me to believe they're related. She was passionate about pizza, which isn't something you get here in the city, even at the very best of Mexican or Vietnamese restaurants. It's just a job, here in the burbs. Up there, it's a way of life.

There's also a pretty kickin' burrito place up there at the rural crossroads. If you ask me, Redwood Valley's turning out to be quite a nice place to be from.

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© Brian Tiemann