Introducing Cville To Grow

You may have noticed my post frequency has dropping a bit as of late. Well, I hate to say I'm losing my enthusiasm for take-out food, but...I think I'm losing my enthusiasm for take-out food. I still like blogging, however, so I'd like to introduce my new project: Cville To Grow.

If you're interested in following along on my journey through Charlottesville's local and organic food options, or if you'd like to learn new ways and reasons to integrate such foods into your diet, I'd appreciate your continued readership.

If you're a big fan of take-out food, though, take heart. I don't plan on abandoning this blog completely. I mean, it may not be as healthy, but everybody's got to get some take-out once in a while.

End Zone Pizza

subject: End Zone Pizza
take-out vehicle: cardboard pizza box
cost: $13.51

Normally when I'm brainstorming ideas for a new post, I'm inspired by something. Usually it's the food itself, sometimes it's the method of delivery, and other times it's just something funny that happened while eating. This time, however, I'm having trouble.

I'll say right off the bat that I liked End Zone's pizza and would order it again without much arm-twisting. The outer crust was crisp yet chewy, the slices wide and foldable, the pepperoni sufficiently greasy. The sauce was a tad sweet, but it was balanced out by everything else. I really had no complaints. As I reached for my second slice, however, I remember commenting to my wife, "This kinda reminds me of that Cobb's place." A bite and a considered moment later: "And maybe Anna's too."

As I continued to think about it, End Zone's pie reminded me of lots of places, and not just those here in Cville: there's that restaurant in New Jersey where I got pizza when visiting my wife's aunt and uncle, the small pizzeria in Nags Head I frequent while vacationing...and, you know, that other place I went that one time. Perhaps now I know why my mental engine isn't humming. There's just not that much new stuff to say about a place to which, in spirit at least, we've all been many times before.

But as I said, End Zone Pizza makes good stuff—standard, maybe (unless you include "The Beast," End Zone's 28-inch pie and self-proclaimed biggest in the region), but good. Of course, I don't think End Zone is trying to be anything other than what it is: a simple, classic, if-it-ain't-broke-don't-fix-it neighborhood pizzeria.

And for certain, End Zone Pizza ain't broke.