Seven Signs of the Foodpocalypse

1. Darth Vader Burgers -- soon available in France and Belgium!

2. Chicken & Waffle Wings -- because how else are you going to eat chicken and waffles in the car?

3. Bacon Soda -- swine plus sugar water equals yum!

4. Mountain Dew -- it dissolves rats!

5. Dulche de Leche Cheerios -- they're "naturally flavored" with caramel!

6. Chocolate Covered Totino's Pizza Rolls -- because why the hell not?

7. SPAM Mints -- for hot dates who love Hormel products.

Not everyone's trying to eat healthier this January, I guess.

100 Acres of Intestinal Distress

For years, I was a pizza fiend. And although I haven't touched the stuff in almost a year, I'd like to think that even my pie-lovin' pre-Paleo self would have felt a little nauseated to learn that ONE HUNDRED ACRES OF PIZZA ARE SERVED EVERY DAY IN THE UNITED STATES. (I wonder how much of it is served at Planet Fitness gyms.)

And the vast majority ain't even the good shit -- you know: The stuff that's worth breaking your general rule to eat clean. (Example: The pizza we had from LA's Pizzeria Mozza, above.) Know what we Americans prefer?

That's right: PIZZA HUT.

COME ON, PEOPLE -- IF YOU'RE GOING TO INGEST CRAP, GET THE CRAP THAT ACTUALLY TASTES GOOD.

SORRY -- I'M NOT SHOUTING -- MY CAPS LOCK IS STUCK. (Totally not true.)

Previously: Pizza For Lunch, Let's Have a Bunch / I Wish Cavemen Ate Pizza

The Opposite of Paleo

Bargain alert! Frozen diabetes in a box costs only six dollars and fifty cents!

Wait -- isn't this one of the signs of the apocalypse?



[Sources: Salon, Freezer Burns]

Double the Meat, Hold the Bun

I may have given up my pizza habit, but to compensate, my burger intake has ramped up significantly since going Paleo. Back in our pre-enlightenment days, we considered burgers to be the devil's (delicious) handiwork, and ate 'em sparingly. After all, red meat causes cancer, right? And saturated fat is always EEEE-vil, right?

Not so much. So now, we're all about burgers. (Without the buns, of course.) Recent favorites include:

The Double Farmhouse Burger (beef patties, ham, cheese, mixed greens and a fried egg -- plus extra bacon, slaw, mustard and sauerkraut) @ Prather Ranch’s stand at the San Francisco Ferry Building Farmer’s Market:

Double Classic Burger (grass-fed beef patties, butter lettuce, onions, tomato, and house-made pickles, plus avocado and a fried egg) @ Roam Artisan Burgers:

Protein-Style Triple Meat Burger (three beef patties, tomato, mustard and a whole-grilled onion slice wrapped in lettuce) @ In-N-Out:

Homemade Lamb Burger (grass-fed lamb patties topped with onions, mushrooms, a fried egg and homemade guacamole) @ our house:

Bunless ShackBurger (with tomato, lettuce, onions and cheese) @ Shake Shack (the one in Madison Square Park):

Buffalo Burger (bison patty with cheddar, avocado, and a fried egg -- not pictured here) @ Burger Bar:

(A Buffalo Burger with different toppings -- Photo: A. Jackson)

Tootsie’s Burger (beef, pork & veal patty with mozzarella and caramelized onions) @ Tootsie’s:

Burger in a Bowl (beef patty, Tillamook cheddar, sautéed onions and mushrooms, roasted red peppers, egg, tomatoes and avocado) @ The Counter:

And the latest addition to the list:

Today, I treated myself to a custom double Durham Ranch elk burger at Roam, consisting of two elk patties wrapped in butter lettuce and topped with onions, tomatoes, house-made pickles and mustard. I also added avocado and bacon for good measure. By substituting the elk for beef, doubling the meat, and throwing on a bunch of extra toppings, you, too, can transform a simple $6 Roam Classic Burger into a lip-smackingly delicious $16 monstrosity. (In the alternative, order some elk patties from Durham Ranch online and concoct your own beast.)

Holy moly, this was good.

Domino's Makes Housecalls

Pizza. It can save your life. Right after it almost kills you.

A pizza delivery driver was called a hero Monday after she likely saved an elderly woman's life.

Before Monday's incident, most neighbors knew little about Memphis resident Jean Wilson, except that she's eaten pizza daily for the past three years.

"We make her pizza every day before she even calls, because we know she's going to call," delivery driver Susan Guy said.

Guy often delivers Wilson's regular order, one large pepperoni pizza, but recently workers at her restaurant noticed an unusual break in the pattern.

"She hadn't called in three days," Guy said.

The Cal Ripken of pizza intake had fallen and couldn't get up. (I'm sure her health problems had nothing whatsoever to do with EATING THE WORST TASTING BIG-BUSINESS PIZZA EVERY SINGLE DAY.) Wilson's streak had been broken.

On the plus side, she got rescued and didn't die.

(Source: Neatorama / Photo: Kung Fu Bonanza)

The Whole30: M's Done!

Thirty days ago, when my better half announced that she was going full-tilt strict Paleo for a month, I was a little skeptical.

This is, after all, the same girl who routinely took a two-hour round-trip drive just to buy a cup of her favorite ice cream. And flew to another state for pizza. (To say we are were big pizza fans would be a gross understatement.) And dropped a small fortune to have a big box of "the world's best chocolate" shipped to our house.

But she did it! Check out her Whole30 wrap-up -- including links to each day's food -- over at her blog, and give her a high-five while you're at it.

No Deadlifts, But Here's Another Slice of Pizza

Zach Nicolay posted an excellent article over at EliteFTS that eviscerates Planet Fitness, the chain of low-cost globo-gyms that cater mainly to budget-minded folks who are taking their first (extremely) tentative steps off the couch. Read it here.

I'm sure that every January, legions of couch potatoes who've resolved to finally join a gym end up choosing Planet Fitness. After all, the monthly fee is dirt-cheap (just $10!), you don't have to sign a long-term contract, the bright purple cardio and weight machines are easy to use, and you're encouraged to not exercise very hard. Half-assed occasional gym-goers, rejoice!

But despite the chain's promise of "no judgments," the staff will most certainly judge your ass if they decide you're working out with any level of real effort. Why? Because it makes the other members feel bad about themselves.

In fact, if you exercise with such intensity that your exhalations become audible, a "LUNK ALARM" goes off. According to Planet Fitness, a "lunk" is someone who "grunts, drops weights, or judges." Apparently, it's also someone who tries to perform "unapproved lifts" at the gym, including deadlifts. (I'm not kidding.)

So what happens when the Lunk Alarm sounds? The staff'll kick you out and/or call the cops.



And that's not all: Planet Fitness offers members free pizza, bagels and candy. You know, health food.

The first Monday of every month is Pizza Day. Unlimited pizza for members, all day. They also have a Bagel Day, and on their own website they mention that they hand out over one million Tootsie Rolls per month to their members. That’s it, I’m calling conspiracy on this one! They set up this “judgment free” gym for “regular” people -no pressure, no contracts, no goals- and they give their clients free pizza and tootsie rolls? It’s a scheme, and they’re either the most wicked businesspeople on earth or the smartest. Or maybe both.

It's like a Chuck E. Cheese's, but with elliptical machines.

I Wish Cavemen Ate Pizza

Speaking of getting fat, there's something about rainy days that makes me miss pizza. You know I love the stuff like nobody's business. Paleo or no, I'm sure the Clan of the Cave Bear would have been all over a hot slice of meaty/cheesy pie if they'd only figured out how to build an oven. And grow, harvest and process wheat. And make cheese.

Even if pizza's off my menu these days, I can still linger over my pizza-related memories, right? Today's gray weather made me dig up something I wrote about a trip to Brooklyn's Di Fara Pizza last year:

Today was wet and drizzly, and it took me almost an hour to get from the Lower East Side to the pizza mecca that is Di Fara. This unassuming, age-worn pizzeria sits just outside the grafitti-splashed Avenue J station in Brooklyn -- and despite its peeling brown paint and weathered, washed-out signage, the wafting smell of pizza goodness can't be resisted. Nor, for that matter, can its reputation as one of the best pizzerias in the country.

As expected, Domenico De Marco -- the maestro -- was personally, patiently and carefully hand-crafting each pizza one by one, just as he's done for four decades. He never looked up, keeping his head down and focused on his craft while his daughter Margaret took orders at the counter (and occasionally hand-cranked the cheese grater). The three small tables in the cramped space were already occupied, and I could see that there were lots of pies on the list that hadn't yet been made, so I ended up ordering a couple of slices of the regular pie rather than waiting.

They were delicious and hot -- fresh from the gas-fired oven. (Who says you need a wood-burning oven to make fantastic pizza?) I can't say enough about the wafer-thin crust -- the texture was perfectly charred and crisp. The simple toppings of tomato sauce, cheese and basil leaves were fresh and tasty, and a glistening sheen of olive oil added to the mouth-filling flavor of the slices I devoured.

Although the pizzas are pricey even for New York (e.g., $4 per slice, $20 for a regular pie, $25 for a "square" pie baked in a well-seasoned pan, $28 for the Di Fara special pie with mushrooms, peppers, sausage and onions), the pizza here is worth every penny (as well as an interminable subway ride from Manhattan).

Plus, who can resist the allure of a chef so dedicated and passionate about his cooking that he insists on personally making every single item that comes out of his kitchen?

I'm not a big believer in cheat meals, but it doesn't help that I just stumbled upon this 15-minute documentary about Domenico De Marco. Seriously: If you've ever considered yourself a pizza fan, you need to watch this.



Thankfully, I live three thousand miles from Brooklyn, or else I'd be hoofing it to Di Fara for lunch today.

Frozen Pizza X 3

Ever felt like sandwiching Totino's Pizza Rolls inside a couple of flayed-open pepperoni Hot Pockets, and then wrapping it all up in a DiGiorno pepperoni pizza like a big-ass taco?

Me neither. But thankfully, this guy has:



(Source: Freezer Burns)

Decisions, Decisions

When you just can't decide whether you want a burger or a pizza -- and you happen to be in New York City -- go get yourself a Burger King Pizza Burger.

Or better yet, just skip lunch altogether.

(Source: Serious Eats)

Pizza for Lunch, Let's Have a Bunch

I don't just work out and blog, you know. I also eat pizza. But not before lovingly photographing it.

Pizzeria Delfina - San Francisco, CA

Pizzeria Bianco - Phoenix, AZ

Boon Fly Cafe - Napa, CA

flour + water - San Francisco, CA

Flatbread Company - Paia, HI

Howie's Artisan Pizza - Palo Alto, CA

Contigo - San Francisco, CA

Pizzeria Mozza - Los Angeles, CA

Pizza Politana - San Francisco, CA

I'm hungry.

Round 3 / Day 39: Insanity Max Cardio Conditioning

There's no way in hell I'm going to do Max Cardio Conditioning in a hotel fitness center, so I did it this morning at home before heading to the airport.

I spent the rest of the day sitting on a plane to Phoenix, sitting in a rental car, sitting down at lunch (at Barrio Cafe), sitting in line in front of Pizzeria Bianco for two hours, and then sitting and devouring half of a Wiseguy Pizza and half of a Rosa pizza. (I know, I know -- refined carbs = bad. But as I've said before, I make exceptions for really awesome pizza. And I only eat here once a year, so cut me some slack, people.)

Looking back on my ridiculously sedentary day, I can't believe I even considered just stretching this morning instead of going balls-out with an Insanity workout.

Starving In Chicago

I just checked into my hotel and am starving. I'm contemplating whether to order something generic and possibly gross from the room service menu, or to walk over to Frontera Grill, where I always eat when I'm in Chicago, but where I'll probably have to wait a while to get a seat at the counter.

Another option would be to take a cab up to Great Lake for some Bianco-style pizza. (Just thinking about Pizzeria Bianco makes me want to fast-forward to my next trip to Phoenix.) Yes, I've been attempting to go Primal, but pizza is my Kryptonite, and if I make it to Great Lake, I'll have visited an even dozen of the 64 best pizza joints in the country (which, sadly, is still fewer than 20 percent of the places on the list).

I'm starting to drool. It's amazing how hungry you can get from sitting on a plane all day.

[UPDATED: I went to Frontera Grill, sat at the counter, and took photos of what I ate:

I'm not starving anymore.]