Following fittingly on from my last post’s pizza theme, I present to you my strangest food find thus far: Hubby’s lunch from our road trip.
An ordinary, gas station pizza, yes? Available in gas stations state-wide, yes? Possibly further afield, I wouldn’t yet know. (For the Brits, gas station pizzas are a darned sight tastier than you’d expect, it’s not soggy sandwiches and Ginster’s this end.)
Except… look at the name. Of all the names to choose for a pizza company that sells in rural Wyoming, they went for the hub of the city, 5000 miles away, that I came here from.
And if that’s not an excuse to eat lots of it, I don’t know what is.