IDK About Your Pie, But My Pie is Peach & Prosciutto

Pizzas are a lot like sandwiches.

They both start with a carbohydrate base (in sandwiches' case, bread; for pizzas, dough). Then you add cheese, meat, fruit and vegetables to your heart's delight. You can eat them hot or cold. If you're me and you like about six vegetables, you can get away with multipurposing them for homemade pizza and fresh sandwich toppings, thus saving some moolah on that grocery bill.

I eat rather a lot of pizza. It's easy; I can say I'm "cooking" even though all I am doing is turning on the oven and throwing a frozen pie into it for a specified amount of time, then taking it out and devouring it. And like sandwiches, the sky is the limit when it comes to what you can find or put on top of them, so you never feel like you're eating the same thing day after day after day.
Disclaimer: No, Mom, I promise I am not actually eating pizza more than three days in a row, and that is because one pizza equals three meals minimum, no matter how I slice it.

The peach and prosciutto pizza from Your Pie

Recently I had a pizza though that I would not at all be opposed to eating multiple days in a row, though I will advise you to eat it fresh (it didn't keep well for two days in the fridge). It's the peach and prosciutto pizza from Your Pie.

Your Pie is an Athens, Georgia-based franchise that — not to continue my sandwich-pizza comparison — can best be described in set-up as the Subway of pizza restaurants. There are several pre-designed options you can pick from, or you can build your own from a plethora of sauce and toppings. The peach and prosciutto pizza looks like it's a seasonal choice, so if this post makes you hungry, you should probably act on that craving before it's too late.

Once the dough is rolled out and put on your individual pizza paddle, it's dabbed with olive oil and topped with generous amounts of ricotta cheese. As someone whose favorite generic pizza is white pizza, this made my eyes glaze over in ecstasy. Then comes shredded mozzarella, the melting properties of which are simply incomparable. Handfuls of thinly sliced, slightly sweet and tart peaches go on next, followed by paper-thin pieces of salty cured prosciutto (a type of cured ham, and the easiest way to fumble your way around its pronunciation is pro-shoot-oh, but preferably with more of an Italian accent). A drizzle of balsamic glaze over the whole thing, and some fresh chopped basil, and buon appetito.

Sweet and savory is one of my favorite flavor combinations, and this pizza hits the sweet spot. Especially since the peaches are a little tart as well, you get more of a depth of flavor that you would if you were eating bacon and peach French toast, or even peaches and pork chops (the only other peach + pork pairings I'm familiar with). Plus, the ricotta is so mild that your toppings aren't overtaken by a sauce.

Your Pie's white crust is also really good, although again, it doesn't keep well if you have a habit of taking home leftovers. It doesn't bubble up too much so I didn't feel as though I was eating mostly bread, and it had a great butteryness to the flavor without tasting salty.

If you go to the Eastside Athens location (which I did!), make sure to say hi to Collin and Andrew — and shameless plug, please order an Akademia beer if they've got one on tap. If you like what you eat so much that you want to start your own franchise ... I happen to know who you can talk to at the corporate office about that, and you can repay me with free pizza for life once you hit the big time. ;)

This S*** is Tostones, T-O-S-T-O-N-E-S

The Meatetarian is no stranger to weird food. In fact, I rather pride myself on my ability to get the weirdest-sounding thing on the menu, especially if it is meat-related: I've eaten Rocky Mountain oysters (spoiler alert; they're not oysters). When it comes to non-meat though, I am significantly less adventurous and more inherently grossed out. I tried tofu (that didn't sit so well with my GI tract). I've stomached boiled and steamed vegetables. I ate brussels sprouts once. I even went so far as to make my own greens a few times.

But there is one food item that I cannot put anywhere near my tastebuds. Bananas.

I couldn't tell you exactly what horrid childhood trauma scarred me so much that I gag on the mere thought of these things, but for as long as I can remember, I would rather starve than eat a banana. Yes, y'all, I know they have potassium. I'm sure your grandmama makes a mean 'nana puddin' with Nilla wafers. I am well-aware that they can cream up a smoothie. I have heard multiple times that the Akademia Brewing Company head brewer/co-founder makes a solid Belgian tripel, which is on-point for its banana notes. But if there is the tiniest hint of banana anywhere near my breakfast, lunch, dinner, second supper, beer or midnight snack, I ain't eatin' it. My daddy is this way with onions. Maybe it's hereditary?

Anyway.

After 29 years of just saying "no" to Chiquitas the same way I approached hard drugs, imagine my surprise when I found a banana-like product that I actively crave. They're called tostones, and the only place I've ever had them has been at Cali-N-Titos in Athens, Georgia.

Tostones are fried green plantains, and after doing some super-nerdy research into why I am drawn to them more than bananas (blech), here's what I learned.

Plantains have more starch than bananas do, although they're from the same family. That means they're much better to eat cooked than raw. Think about it — potatoes, also super-starchy, are significantly better cooked than raw. Similarly to potatoes, plantains can be sliced, mashed and deep-fried to make tostones. I reckon that makes them like the tropical equivalent of French fries. And though I have a hankering for tostones, there's also another variety of fried plantain that is on the Cali-N-Tito's menu. Maduros are fried sweet plantains. I have not tried these, though allegedly they don't taste like bananas.

The sandwich el criollo and tostones at Cali-
N-Tito's Eastside

The Cali-N-Tito's folks have managed a perfect way of slicing and mashing tostones so that they have this gorgeous scalloped edge when they're deep-fried. They've got a fine crispy outside and not-quite-fry soft innards. They go well with whatever amazingness is in the pink sauce you're served to dip them in.

I've been to Cali-N-Tito's a couple times before and gotten tacos (shocker), but this latest venture I was feeling something more out-of-the-hardshell. So I got the traditional Peruvian el sandwich criollo. I must say, this was a fabulous decision.

The pork was marinated, tangy and juicy with a nice hint of brine, topped with red onions, tomatoes, cilantro (y'all, cilantro does not taste like soap) and some sweet-yet-zesty mayonnaise, all served hot on grilled bread. I highly recommend adding pickled jalapeños as well.

Oh. And did I mention this sandwich's crowning glory? Sweet potato chips. On. The. Sandwich. Full disclosure, my favorite guilty summer sandwich pleasure is throwing potato chips on my sandwiches, and now I want to try it with sweet potato chips.

El sandwich criollo y los tostones were a solid combination. You do have to order them separately, but it's worth the couple extra bucks. The tostones are plain enough in terms of seasoning to complement all of the flavors in the sandwich perfectly, and also act as a little bit of a palate cleanser between bites.

Cali-N-Tito's has two Athens locations. The outdoorsy one on Lumpkin Street has more limited parking, no liquor license and also no menu online, but you can BYOB assuming you are 21 and up. I usually go to the Eastside location off of Cedar Shoals, which serves alcohol and oddly enough has an ice cream shop inside. It's also occasionally referred to as "La Puerta del Sol," but everyone I know just calls it "Eastside Cali-N-Tito's." Either way, you're sure to find something to please your palate on the menu.

And if you don't, just bring me your leftovers and I'll make sure they find a good home.

Morning Roll Call

It is no great secret that, despite my mad skills with cooking meat, I am miserable at baking.

The only thing I've ever successfully baked is Ghirardelli brownies. That come from a box. And even then, if you mess with my baking system (like, I'm baking them in someone else's oven or for the first time at my new apartment), the brownies get messed up.

My best friend Amanda and I still joke about that one time in seventh grade we tried to make Nun's Puffs, and we didn't have most of the ingredients so we unsuccessfully substituted, and wound up with barely edible but-we-ate-them-anyway-because-we-worked-hard-gosh-darn-it breakfast pastries.  I effed up some boxed chocolate chip cookies once — I swear I followed the instructions for "chewy," so I don't know why they were like eating cookie chips — and I found out the hard way that if you leave the cardboard underneath a frozen pizza while it bakes, you wind up with pretty much raw dough topped with melted cheese, pepperoni and vegetables.

I am, however, quite good at eating baked goods.

Case in point, sad PMS-ing Dallas has been known to eat entire boxes of Girl Scout cookies alone, in one sitting, on her couch while drinking whiskey. Also case in point, yesterday morning's venture to a new (to me) bakery in my new(ish) home of Athens, Georgia.**

I originally attempted to go to the Milledge Avenue Jittery Joe's, which is a local coffee roastery. Highly recommend their spiced iced dirty chai lattes. But I was running late, there was a line ... and though I desperately craved coffee, my immediate thought was "I ain't got time fo' that today."

That's when I remembered this quaint little bakeshop around the corner from Jittery Joe's — Independent Baking Co.! I parked my car possibly illegally and darted over.

"This is perfect! Especially since I discovered that I left my yogurt out overnight at JE's house and now I don't have breakfast," super-adult me said to myself.

Y'all. This little bakery is precious. And I don't mean that in the stereotypical Southern ol' biddy way that is only one step above being told "bless your heart." I mean that in a genuine fashion. It's tee-tiny, clearly made as a place to bake really good bread and pastries, and they tossed out a couple stools for people to sit at.

I would also like to commend Independent Baking Co. on their incredibly minimalist and modern logo design. Obsessed.

But what everyone else obsesses over isn't what's on the outside of this place. It's what's on the inside, and boy, let me tell you — if you're on one of those low-carb or keto diet things ... please get off of it for a day and come here. Fresh-baked anything smells amazing, but fresh-baked bread has this rustic earthiness to its smell that is so warm and inviting. Behind the counter you're greeted with shelves stuffed with loaves and loaves of fresh-baked bread that's emanating that homey smell. I could tell just from looking at them that they were perfectly crusty.

Since I was on the way to work, and eating a loaf of bread by myself is generally not socially acceptable, I glanced down at the front counter, which offered up several different grab-and-go pastries. The danish with spinach and chevre (!!!!) began to call my name, but the woman behind me in line saw me looking and directed my attention elsewhere: to The Morning Roll.

Please pardon the less-than-stellar Insta
story photo quality here.

I have never been so pleased to wake up and learn that my yogurt got left out the previous night. Morning rolls are officially my new favorite pastry ever and like, who needs a Cronut when that costs about $17 plus a plane ticket ... when this divine gift from the heavens is only a couple miles from my apartment?! Here are the most important points.

First: The size. These babies are about the size of my hand, and a solid two inches tall.

Second: Not your average cinnamon roll. Morning rolls are made with delicate, flaky croissant dough, dipped in cinnamon sugar, baked and then dosed with a second hearty helping of cinnamon sugar.

Third: I walked out of here, tip included, with this sugary delight and a latte made with Counter Culture coffee, for only a buck more than I spend at Jittery Joe's for my regular breakfast drink.

It was very hard to eat my morning roll at work and resist the temptation to get back in my car, drive to the other side of town and just eat the rest of them. The original dusting of cinnamon sugar caramelized while baking, so there was this crisp candy-like layer in areas around the croissant dough. I adore croissants (if it's offered as bread for a sandwich, that's what I'm getting), and this was top-notch. The thin outer layer was crisp; hidden underneath was this exquisite cushion of pastry perfection, lightly sweetened.

I'm taking names of anyone who wants to split one of their loaves with me on my next visit.

** TLDR I moved back to Athens full-time last fall; started a new job; hence why it was hard for me to settle in time to write fun stuff that probably only my mom reads.