The Cheese Board Collective (a food review)

This all began several years ago. There was this list of the top 100 pizza restaurants in the country, and I decided to check it out, in no small part because my middle child would subsist off of pizza alone if we would let him. Which I get, I was the same way when I was his age. As it turned out, many of the top pizza places are right here in California -- no surprise, actually -- and three of them are (or were at the time) right here in the Bay Area. I added a couple of them to the list my wife and I keep of things we want to do or try. Yes, we do actually keep a list for that because we, or at least I, would forget them if we didn't keep a list.

Some of the things on the list, especially the restaurants (because we don't go out to eat all the often), we will never get to, and we probably wouldn't have gotten to The Cheese Board except that my wife had an overnight event (that we may discuss later but not right now) down in Oakland a few years ago and we had to eat out a few times. We decided to drive through Berkeley on our way home and have dinner at The Cheese Board because it was the place off our list that my wife most wanted to try.

There are a few unique things about The Cheese Board:
1. It's a collective, meaning that it's owned by the employees. On top of that, all of the employees, no matter what they do, make the same wage. It's all pretty cool.
2. It's not just a pizza place. Actually, it's a cheese shop, or that's what it started out as. Or something. The pizza came later.
3. The pizza only comes in one size. You can buy a whole pizza or a half pizza. Or, hey, even two whole pizzas!
4. They only make one kind of pizza per day, so, if you want a pizza, you get what they made not what you choose.
5. All the pizzas are vegetarian. Not in the traditional sense of pizzas; these pizzas are... creative. Both in the veggies used and the kinds of cheeses.
Remember that line in Inside Out? You know, it went something like, "Thanks, San Francisco! You ruined pizza!" Well, The Cheese Board would be a perfect example of what Mr. Anger was talking about... except that it's SO GOOD.

I don't remember what was on that first pizza we had, but I'll admit to being a bit wary of it. I like some veggies on my pizza, but I've always been more of a meat pizza person. Though, actually, now that we make pizza at home, I've come to realize that, when done correctly, the veggies add much more flavor than the meat. It's just that you're never going to get more than token flavor from veggies, or even the meat, from any chain pizza place. They don't do the right prepping to bring the flavor out of things. Red bell pepper, when properly grilled, is a flavor explosion on your pizza.
But I digress...

So, yeah, I don't remember what went on that first pizza, but it was nothing less than amazing. What I remember most about it was the incredible cheese. And, again, I'm not really a fan of "cheese pizza," because what's the point? Except, again, I've come to realize that my feeling about that has more to do with the failure of chain joints to provide anything more than melted cardboard on their cardboard crusts. The pizza we got at The Cheese Board was enough to rocket that place to my pick for pizza place ever.

And I'm not alone in that. There was recently an article (and, yes, I should have saved the link, but I didn't, and I'm not going to go look for it) about how The Cheese Board is one of the top three restaurants -- not pizza places, restaurants -- in the nation. It's certainly one of our favorite places to go... when we're anywhere near it. Last week, when returning from Monterey, we made a very deliberate detour through Berkeley just to stop for pizza.

Look, even my younger son loves it, and he doesn't eat vegetables unless we make him.

That first visit aside, since then we've had pizza with corn on it... Yes, I said corn! And, yeah, I was like, "What...?" when I saw that on the menu for their pizza that day, but it was... Unbelievable. I mean, it was corn! On pizza! But it added this bit of flavor that really worked.
And, yes, we've had pizza with broccoli.
This last time we stopped, it was bell pepper and olives.
I think that's it, just the four visits over about three years
I'd go more if I could, but my wife is convinced, no matter how good it is, that a two-three hour round trip is too far to go for pizza.

Food and Reading: Why the Two Go Together

When I first met my wife, she didn't like steak. Actually, she didn't like any kind of "slab of meat" whether it came from a cow or a pig. Her previous experience with slabs of meat had been mediocre at best. Basically, her parents, when she was growing up, didn't know how to cook meat and, inevitably, what she would get was a tough, unspiced, piece of leather-like substance that needed a laser to cut it. Which she didn't have. Which meant she had to saw on it with a knife for several minutes per bite. But that was okay, because it took so long to chew that she had plenty of time to saw off the next piece.
We at a lot of chicken at the beginning of our relationship.

But, see, I didn't understand her position about the meat. My experience with the same kinds of "slabs of meat" was completely different but, then, my mom was a cook. She had this metal mallet thing with different sized spikes on either end that she used to pound steak with before she cooked it. There was never anything unchewable in our house. Mostly, I never even used a knife when I was a kid unless I wanted to spread peanut butter (and, no, Briane Pagel, I never put peanut butter on steak).

However, there was even more to all of this than even I knew.

Every once in a while, we did get steak or pork because it needed to go in something, like steak fajitas and, because we had it, every once in a while, I would just cook steak or pork chops. At first, my wife's reaction was "wow! this is good!" BUT "I don't like meat." She was so invested in the whole not liking meat thing because of her notion about how it wasn't good that, for a while, every time we had it and she liked it she thought it was some kind of aberration. Some accident. The next time would be back to how it was when she was growing up, so she actively campaigned against there being a next time.

But I'm a guy, and I like slabs of meat. Which is where it gets kind of interesting because, to me, a slab of meat was a slab of meat. So the slabs of meat we ate were, well, fairly cheap slabs of meat. Which is what I'd grown up eating and I liked just fine.

Of course, I didn't have a hammer like my mom had so, although the steak we had always tasted good, it was sometimes a little tough. Still, it was enough to cause my wife to eventually change her opinion about slabs of meat.

I'm not sure exactly when it happened or why, but, at some point, we tried a slightly more expensive cut of meat, New York strip. Probably, it was on sale. The difference was amazing! I mean, AMAZING! Oh, my, gosh, the better cut of meat held the flavors of the spices so much better, and it was incredibly tender all on its own. Then we tried a rib-eye cut and it was even better! I love the rib-eye!

See, I didn't know, except theoretically, that there was a difference in the experience of the meat. Previously, the rib-eye I'd had had not been well-cooked or well-spiced, so it didn't actually compare well to the, basically, crappy cuts of meat we'd been having at home. My wife, also, was astounded. We don't eat the cheap cuts of meat anymore.

The point here is that sometimes (frequently) we don't know that something is, well, crappy until we've had something better. The thing we're used to just... is. We think that's how it's supposed to be and as good as it's going to be. It happens with food, and it happens with books.

With books? What?

Yes, it happens with books.

Frequently, we get stuck on reading particular types of books or just one or two particular authors. Sometimes, there is better quality stuff out there, but we've established whatever it is as part of our "reading identity." For instance, part of my reading identity during high school (and something I carried into college) was that I was a reader of Piers Anthony (and, really, I hate to keep using him as an example of this, but it is what it is). I read everything he put out. I even tracked down a couple of out-of-print books he'd written early in his career because my goal was to read every book he ever wrote. A goal I gave up during college when I finally started branching out in my reading and discovered that there were so many better books out there. Or, at least, books I liked more.

Which is why you should taste new things. Like, every time you have the chance, taste new things. What's the worst that's going to happen? You won't like it. Big deal. So you don't eat (read) that thing again. And on the other side, you will find things that you absolutely love. Or can learn to love. I didn't used to like broccoli, after all, but that might have been because my mom always boiled it (in the South, anything that's not fried is boiled); the point is that now I really like broccoli. A lot. But it did take some getting used to.

So don't get into a reading rut. Try new books. Try new authors. Even if you like what you're reading, now, you might find that it's really just the cheap cut.

***

Also, remember, we are still taking submissions over at Indie Writers Monthly for your time travel stories!

Just click the link for all the details! Real prize money involved!

Popcorn Reading

I love popcorn. Especially, I love movie theater popcorn. It's horrible. I can't go to a movie without wanting it. I'm sure that's what the theater wants, too, and that smell is sooo... intoxicating. I used to not be able to go to the movies without buying popcorn. Of course, movies were cheaper then. The popcorn was cheaper, too.

It wasn't really the money that made me quit buying popcorn all the time, though; it was my kids. Okay, it was the money, too, but, really, it was my kids. I mean, it's one thing for me to make the decision to put all that crap into my own body, but, back when we used to actually do (almost) a weekly movie during the summers, I didn't think I needed to put all that crap into my kids bodies, too. Even if they did enjoy it and want it.

Still enjoy it and want it.

The thing with popcorn is that it's so easy to just keep eating and eating it. Handfuls at a time. Don't give me a large bag of popcorn to hold at the theater and expect to get some. I will eat it all. You'll reach over to get some, and it will be gone. All of it. Well, there'll probably be a few loose kernels in the bottom of the bag. I won't have meant to have eaten it all, it will have just happened. The same goes for the lesser microwave popcorn at home. I will eat it. I might not even feel bad afterward.

Sugar is the same way. Things with sugar in them, anyway. It's so easy to sit down with a bag of, say, peanut butter cups and eat the whole thing without realizing it. And it makes you want more and more of it.

Eating junk makes you want to eat more junk. That's the way it's designed. Even when we know it's bad for us, we want to eat it anyway. I mean, it's been... well, it's been years since I've had a soda, but, sometimes, I still want one. And I think one can't be that bad, right? It's been years since I had one, so what could it hurt? But that will just make me want more and more. Once I re-acclimate myself to it, that is. Because, actually, having been off of sugar for so long means that anything that has any sugar in it at all is usually way too sweet for me.

The thing is, though, if you give people the option between something that's good for them and something that's bad for them, they'll usually pick the thing that's bad for them. Well, assuming it tastes good. I was certainly that way when I was a kid, which is why I grew up on soda. My kids are no different. They want to eat crap all the time. Even though we don't keep sweets and treats in the house and have a habit of not eating that way, they ask for things every single day. Every single day. EVERY SINGLE DAY! And it drives us crazy every night! NO! WE ARE NOT GOING OUT FOR ICE CREAM! NO! WE ARE NOT GOING TO SIFT FOR CUPCAKES! Why do you keep asking that when you get the same answer every day?! Oh! My! Gosh!

People, especially kids, don't have the ability to look at their food choices objectively and weigh the advantages and the disadvantages and choose accordingly. Mostly, because they can't see what the disadvantages are. Or choose not to see them. Most people respond to things the same way my younger boy responds to food:
"Yum, this is full of sugar and carbs; this is awesome!" [Even though it's objectively bad for him.]
"Yuck! That's green and leafy and disgusting!" [Even though it's good for him.]
However, if you work with the things that are good for you, eventually, you will like them. And I know, because I grew up hating broccoli and yams, hating them with a passion (at one point, I think I vowed to my mother that I would never EVER eat broccoli), but those are two of my favorite foods now. And my younger son also likes yams, now, because we kept making him eat them.

The real issue is that you have to train yourself to like the things that are good for you. And it's not easy. I grew up with a cook for a mother. A southern cook. Let me just tell you right now that the southern diet is not the most healthy in the world. Even the things in it that are good for you are cooked in such a way as to not be good for you. They'll boil the nutrients right out of anything. And, if it can't be boiled, they'll batter it and fry it. Or, you know, throw sugar all over it. Want to eat strawberries in the south? Cut them up and toss sugar on  them. Why? It's already fruit; it doesn't need sugar. But that's how I ate strawberries when I was a kid. And why eat broccoli when there was fried okra as an option (and the okra smelled so much better!)?

At some point, though, you have to look at what you're putting in your body and say, "Is this good for me?" If the answer is "no," you have to train yourself into a different behavior set. And, no, I can't tell you how to do that. You have to figure that out for yourself.

Of course, I'm not really talking about food here. I mean, I am talking about food, but I'm also talking about books. Of course, I'm not the first to compare books to food. I'm probably not even the first to compare junk food to junk books. At any rate, just like most people (in the US, at least) spend way too much time eating junk food, most people that read (because most people actually do not read) spend way too much time reading junk books. Popcorn books.

A lot of people would say, "but at least they're reading something," and I almost agree with that. Except that saying that would be like saying of an adult that was still eating baby food, "well, at least, s/he's eating something." Yeah, I know it's not the same, but it kind of is.

See, I know some people that like to brag about how many books they read. And, yes, they read a lot of books. A couple of them read, like, 250 books a year. But they're all the same kind of book (and I'm not gonna say what kind that is), and they amount to popcorn. At least, that's how I visual it. All pretty much the same with very little substance. Not challenging. Not anything.

So when someone says, "at least, they're reading;" I think, "I'm not so sure about that."

I don't have a problem with reading for pleasure. Reading is great, and reading should be enjoyable. I also think reading should prompt us to think and, hopefully, to grow. The occasional treat is fine, but you really shouldn't try to live off of them (treats), just like you shouldn't use McDonald's as your dietary staple. Okay, McDonald's is trying to reform a little, so we'll go with Burger King. [Actually, it's been so long since I ate at either of those places, I don't know how they are.]

Other than observing people that just read the equivalent of literary junk food all the time, it's my own kids that got me thinking about this. Just like not letting them have popcorn all the time, I can't let them read easy, non-challenging books all the time.

When I was a kid, I didn't have anyone to help me navigate books. My family does not read. I stumbled my way through on Hardy Boys and stuff I could pick up at school until I started having things assigned  to me, and, even then, in my head there was a differentiation between what I read on my own and what I was assigned at school. It didn't matter that I liked the books I was being assigned at school; they were still a different category, so I spent my time otherwise reading literary junk. It wasn't until my junior year of high school that I figured out that I could explore "real" literature on my own. Of course, by that time, I'd wasted seven years of reading on (mostly) popcorn.

I don't want my kids to do that. Not that I force them to read anything, but I do make suggestions.

There's nothing wrong with reading the occasional piece of fluff. It's nice to have a mental break from thinking from time to time. It's something else entirely to devote yourself to only mental fluff. It makes it difficult to recognize something that is actually, really, good, because it's too challenging to get into. Everyone should challenge themselves to grow as readers. To start reading, to read more broadly, to read more deeply. Learn to like your broccoli and yams. I did.