capsules.

Oh, hello there. What a...surprise.

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So I've been doing an unusual amount of restaurant eating lately, I thought I'd share some one-sentence insights.

Pomorosso Trattoria, Amstelveenseweg 41. P-Woe has been telling me for about 4 years now, "you gotta try this pizza", and last night we finally did, a rucola-truffle oil version and a margherita: solid, honest, real Italian pizza, not as downright "I could eat another one of these right now" as La Perla is, but shit I don't even know if La Perla is like that anymore. But this is worth trying again.

Renato's Pizzeria, Karel du Jardinstraat 32. I'd been hearing about Renato's for years but never knew exactly where it was, but then it ended up being one block away from my bill-paying custodial/concierge job, and since it won some random "Best Pizza in Amsterdam" contest last year, I figured we should try it. Diagnosis: not bad in any way, unless you factor in the detail that, with my newly failing eyesight, I couldn't read the unbolded-black-text-on-dark-brown-paper menu properly and accidentally ordered a pizza strewn liberally with parma ham to share with my darling vegetarian dining companion. But ok, I'll take responsibility for that. The pizza itself: not bad, but not terribly exciting in any way either: I'd call it the fifth- or sixth-best pizza in Amsterdam, still nothing to be ashamed of, unless of course you're going around telling everyone you have the first-best pizza in Amsterdam, then, well, yes, that invites a little extra scrutiny doesn't it.

Boca's, Sarphatipark 4. Pretty disappointing in every way, though maybe this had everything to do with so many people gushing over it, or maybe that we were ordering vegetarian again, but I didn't get anything about the experience: the food was edible, but radiated a certain unlovability and, maybe worse, a certain "never having been loved by anybody", except for this one goat cheese arancini (arancino?): that little dude was totally lovable, but the whole rest of everything from the decor to the music to the staff just screamed passionless disinterest and/or loveless calculation. We hated it.

Tripel, Lijnbaansgracht 161. Easily the loudest non-concert background music I've ever experienced in a bar that was trying to sell beer and food to people who might want to converse while they ate and drank. At least, in contrast to Boca's, it was above-average music: if Boca's shitty soulless funk-jazz had been any louder I would've had to exit without finishing my meal. Tripel redeemed itself by looking like a great old bruin cafe inside and having a nice long bar you can eat at, allowing you to be physically proximate enough to shout directly into each others' ears. Plus pretty above average bar food, at least the two things we tasted: a totally fine goat cheese salad with a non-standard array of fruit, nuts, and roasted vegetables tucked away here and there, and an accidental double order of frites with supposedly homemade mayo that were just perfect.

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