Almost no matter where you go, you see restaurants from other countries, or other cuisines. In any given week, I am used to eating Italian, Mexican, Thai, Vietnamese, French, etc., etc. -- You get my drift. I don't mean even going out to eat, but what influences my own home cooking. When I came back from Jamaica, Jamaican food came into the mix also. If I am in Jamaica...or Mexico...or almost anywhere, I sometimes feel after a week or so like I want something that tastes a little "different". It means no disrespect, its just what I am used to - a wide variety. But I try to choose places to go and vacation that I feel have interesting food options in the beginning. What I would NOT do is go to any of those places and want to eat "american" style food...I wouldn't eat at an american chain restaurant. I draw the line somewhere.

So to sum it up, I basically travel in part, other than scenery, people and culture to eat interesting good food. Because I love all kinds of food, I often feel a craving for another flavour...truth be told, pizza is a craving I often have but I expect it to be different than anywhere else I have tried because basically....unless it is mass produced, it IS going to be different. I usually like the little shifts in the way they are prepared, but, excuse me if I am rude -- NYC is not the mecca of pizza, I would say that Italy wins, hands down!!!

The worst pizza ever was in Quebec. We pulled up to a motel late one evening and asked for good pizza. She gave me the directions for a place called The Poutine Palace...I said no, not Poutine, but PIZZA, thinking it was a language issue, but no...that is who had the best pizza...in her eyes. I went, tried to translate the menu ordered what I thought was a pizza with sauce, hot sausage and cheese - what I neglected to understand because I don't read french was that the sauce was Meat sauce, with lots and lots of hamburger in it. The Sausage that I ordered was NOT sausage but SMOKED MEAT, piled up about an inch think on top of the meat sauce and the whole thing was blanketed with a thick bland mozzarella cheese. By the time the box got back to our hotel room, it had been leaking grease onto the back seat of our Toyota and it essentially was inedible, the little bit we managed to eat because we were starving (trying to use a plastic knife and fork...) made us both very very ill the next day....overload! (hey, I am starting to crave pizza)