It was a rise and fall for the ages.
Pizza joints are a dime a dozen, and we don't usually go around trying each and every one that pops up. We have Guiseppe's square Sicilian pizza with bacon, onions, green peppers and when we're feeling especially naughty, Papa John's Hawaiian pizza with garlic butter sauce, and those usually suffice. However, during the hectic, pre-holiday, scramble, there was one especially night where we couldn't even manage those 10-15 minute drives. So we picked up a pizza at the brand new, bright yellow and brightly lit Hungry Howie's pizza place around the corner.
It was delicious - hot, tasty, a flavored crust. And the garlic Howie Bread? Yummers, absolutely yummers. We exulted - tasty pizza a stone's throw away.
So when Foodgoat's had extended family over one holiday night, we served up three Hungry Howie's pizzas, and it was quite the hit. All was well and good.
Little did we know that Hungry Howie's triggered something - something dark and frightening - in Foodgoat's brother. The mild-mannered Bostonian accountant was transformed into Crazy Obsessed Pizza Fiend.
We had Hungry Howie's pizza five times in a week and a half, racking up a pile of empty pizza boxes in the kitchen that made Foodgoat hang his head in shame whenever his mother came over. The very idea of pizza makes me slightly nauseous. We will not be visiting Hungry Howie's again - at least, not until President's Day.