Penmachine

On occasion I have told a story from my wife's and my honeymoon, which we spent driving around California in a rented Chrysler Le Baron convertible. One night, after visiting Knott's Berry Farm, we found a Mexican restaurant for dinner and ordered burritos.

They came, but we couldn't see them, because each one had what looked like an entire block of cheese melted on top. Even today I associate the sound of a Mexican pop band (there was one playing downstairs) with the sight of that mass of bubbling cheese.

Tonight my kids and I visited one of our local Pizza Hut restaurants (much closer than the one in the photo). We ordered the special: the Triple Cheese Explosion pizza, where not only is there cheese on the toppings, but the edge of the crust itself is injected with the stuff.

It was overload. After an appetizer, my older daughter ate about half of one substantial piece (including the cheesy edge), while my younger daughter ate only some toppings from hers. "Too much cheese!" she said. Her sister said, "Look, it makes the plate greasy." I ate a couple of slices, and the rest came home with us.

Next time I think we'll go back to Me-n-Ed's.

Labels: family, food, restaurant