Rennie Review: Rockin’ Food at the Larkspur Pizzaria

We learned pretty quick in this journey to trust in the Rennies’ judgments when it comes to the best digs, dives, hole-in-the-wall places, the cheapest and most decent hotels and motels, the best thrift stores to shop, the coolest headshops, and pretty much anything you would use as an excuse to get out of camp. There’s always that one seasoned Rennie in the campground that knows it all, word gets around, and certain places become infamous for experiencing a Rennie Take-Over.

Some towns, like some in Pennsylvania, don’t care much for us and treat us like a bunch of hippiefied gypsies. Other towns, like Larkspur, CO, loved us and welcomed our business with open arms.

There’s only half a dozen business lined up along Larkspur’s single road through town, and the one that stands out most in my mind (that I wish I had right now, sitting in the gloomy rain in Pittsburg) is the Larkspur Pizzaria [insert link to their website].

They serve some of the most delicious food I’ve ever had in my life. We tried several things (blew at least a couple paychecks there) on the menu. They have a few sandwiches, served usually with fries, most of them delicious paninis. There are pastas, most notably the cheese ravioli and the lasagna, and I personally recommend that if you order either of these dishes, to order them with the creamy basil pesto sauce.

As an appetizer, the garlic sticks are garlic cheese sticks and are the cheapest appetizer. The garlic knots, served drenched in garlic olive oil and parmesan cheese, are absolutely heavenly. The veggie calzone is stuffed stupid, just like it will stuff you stupid.

Yet the crowning star of this menu is hands down the barbque bacon cheeseburger pizza. The taste is well worth the extra few dollars you shell out. It’s 18 inches of thin-crust, hand-tossed pizza smothered in sweet tangy BBQ sauce, covered in chunks of crispy bacon ends-and-pieces, grilled hamburger and blanketed in a blend of yellow and white cheeses. If you don’t care for hamburger, order it with fried chunks of chicken. Either are equally delicious. This pizza also scores at the top of the charts when it comes to eating it cold or the next day.  I recommend, that if you order this pizza, order it sometime in the evening, because in my experience, the evening cook fries the bacon extra crispy, which makes the whole experience of converging flavors all the more phenomenal.

You can order beer here, too, and wine. The selection is not large, but they feature Leinenkugel Sunset Wheat beer, which is our favorite paired with the BBQ bacon cheeseburger pizza. (of doom) While in Colorado, we preferred to order our drinks at the Pizzaria, rather than at “The Spur” (“The Spur of the Moment” in Larkspur. They also served food, but closed their kitchens early, and it took forever to get a beer on a Sunday night) down the street. Our usual plan of a Sunday night was to eat at the Pizzaria, have a couple of drinks, then wander over to the bar to visit with friends and possibly do a little dancing.

I think that dude from “Diners, Drive-In, and Dives” should do a show on The Larkspur Pizzaria. The food is utterly phenomenal and a place I will be patronizing for years. Oh, and they have wireless internet, too, and live bands twice a week.

I’m going to be typing forever if I don’t stop coming up with reason why I give The Larkspur Pizzaria FIVE STARS in The Rennie Review.

Peace!

Illanoying and Indianus – The Drive to Pennsylvania

PA countryside - surprisingly beautiful.

Interstate 70 across the US is a largely uneventful drive. Once we left home we didn’t stop much except to pee, stretch the legs and switch driving every two hours or so. I tried to sleep on a number of occasions, but that never happened. We drove across four states: Illinois, bypassing St. Louis and it’s lovely view of factory smog hiding the Arch, Indiana, Ohio and the topmost nook of West Virginia before reaching Pennsylvania.

Illinois just seemed long and drawn out and the folks there are somewhat annoying. We stopped at a rest stop for a little down time away from all the other people parked there. We go in and it’s a lovely rest stop, yet some of the guys on John’s side were complaining about the stall doors behind too narrow. Well, fellas, try losing some of that beer gut! Then as we got back into the car for a little one-on-one, we’re interrupted when a big red shiny new truck pulls up right next to us – sideways, taking up about five parking spaces. Now, I could understand this if the truck was pulling a trailer, but it wasn’t. Some not-so-handsome dude and his butter-faced blond woman pile out of the car and stare at us like we’re the idiots parked all retarded. Then they bring out this ugly sharpei type dog and proceed to walk it all around our car. Retarded.

There’s not much to see driving through the rest of the state besides corn fields and… corn fields… In Indiana it’s not much different, but the people there are a whole new brand of odd. We stop in a McDonald’s run by semi-retarded teenagers that don’t know how to pay attention (then again, I think that accounts for about 90% of teens these days. Granted I’m sure my generation was retarded in its own right back then, but Jesus, these days they don’t know how to use a can-opener!). We sit down to eat in a quiet corner and stare at the french fries on the floor the next table over.

We notice that everyone patronizing the McDonald’s are either old, overweight and dressed in Sunday clothes at 10pm. Then a group of teens walk in – two boys and two girls both in dresses. As they pass us by the first girl grabs the second by the shoulders and points us in our direction. I guess they’ve never seen hippies before, even though we were dressed like any other Joe that just got off work and are dirty, tired and travel-weary. I waved and said, “HI!” in my most annoying voice, and of course they hid like being curious is a shameful thing. Thank you, public schools.

So we giggled and joked about it and John was sorely tempted to run up behind the girls and give them a big ol’ hippie hug. Then, when their boyfriends said something, he’d give THEM a hug and tell them how much cuter than the ladies they were. Ha, ha! I love that man. However, we left them alone. Instead we watched some dude with purple-tinted windows and pimp lights drive four times around the McDonald’s and park in the back lot. Creepy. Weird.

We saw the most cops on the highway in Ohio. Not just regular cops, but dog units, but we weren’t worried. All we had to do was follow the flow of traffic or just jump in behind a semi, which by law are required to drive five miles below the speed limit. Its a good tip to know about when you’re unsure of what the speed limit is on a highway.

We stopped in Indiana, just inside the Ohio border for the night. We realized we had some extra cash, so we found a coupon and crashed at a nice hotel for the night. We watched about four hours of cartoons. Incidentally, King of the Hill is a very accurate portrayal of Texas and it’s people. For example, the episode we watched was about Bobby’s school getting new history textbooks which didn’t cover the Alamo, which of course bothered Hank. At the end, Hank is telling Bobby more “history,” listing Texas as a continent along with the US and Australia. I got a kick out of that because Texans – and most of the rest of the US – think of Texas as a different country. (Watch how people react to a Texan when he tells them where he’s from and you’ll get my point.)

But I’m not trying to talk about Texas, I’m talking about Ohio. So we overslept and missed breakfast. Damn. I threw a fit, smoked a cigarette and ate some more of John’s mom’s delicious zucchini bread and back on the road we went.

Ohio is famous for “Skyline Chili,” which is sold in cans there, but I’m told is nothing at all when compared to momma’s homemade Skyline chili, which has dark chocolate as one of its ingredients. The Ohio kids tried to make some for us in Louisiana, but it didn’t come out right because of something to do with not having the right kind of beans. However, it is delicious and unique and if you’re ever through there, try to get yourself a bowl.

The bridge into West Virginia is very pretty and West Virginia – all 20 miles of it we visited – is lovely and green and lush. I can’t say much more on it, because we weren’t there long. We’ll be driving through it on our way south after this show, however.

Pennsylvania is surprisingly pretty. We drove through a veritable tunnel of towering hardwoods and low, rolling mountains. The elevation rarely exceeds 1000 feet. Every river you cross supports a thriving river town, complete with boating docks and floating barges and ancient brick factories and steel mills, many of which are still operational today.

The state is packed with people. According to the Rand McNally, it ranks 6th in population. There’s people and cars everywhere. The roads are crazy and twisting, full of one-ways and short on-ramps. Some of the ramps have stop signs instead of yield signs, which gets really annoying after a while. It’s very easy to get lost and mixed up and turned around. My sense of direction was ruined the first day we stayed here, and everything, even the big Wal-Mart parking lots, are on a hill.

I’m surprised at how pretty this state is and how green it is for how old and populated it is. The air is fresh at our camp and the water tastes good, even though we’re just on the other side of the mountain from the largest coal mine in the United States. Every day at noon we hear them test the air raid sirens and every night we listen to trucks riding their gears down the highway. There are coyotes here, too, and their songs are wild and looping like a bunch of drunken frat boys at half-time. I missed the coyotes and welcome their voices back in my life.

And I hear there are many great hiking spots close to us, too. I’m going to like it here.

Peace.