Why Did I Eat This? Pizza Hut's Hot Dog Bites Pizza

'tis not a pizza, 'tis a many-headed hydra, sent from the darkest depths of fast food Hades to murder us from the inside.

Perhaps that's a bit dramatic.

It's really just a pizza that was creatively engineered to be equipped with a hot dog crust on some ultra low-brow Ferran Adrià type of shit. But of course I had to try it. And of course it kind of sucked. Admittedly, I was scared at first. I expected Pizza Hut's Hot Dog Bites Pizza to be dripping with grease and redolent with the fragrance of preservatives that cause migraines, but it was actually kind of dry. The crust you normally get from Pizza Hut--the one you can wring the butter out of--was replaced by a thin and wobbly breadlike substance held together by a few pigs in a blanket. I think my mistake was lingering too long at the wine store before picking up the pizza, but how does one choose the perfect white to pair with a Hot Dog Bites Pizza?

In any event, by the time I got the pizza home, filmed a couple failed monologues, took a few shitty pictures, and tried unsuccessfully to get the kids to even look at this pizza, the slices were cold, the sauce congealed, and the bread enveloping the hot dog bites hardened to day-old bagel status. Still, it was no worse than anything on Pizza Hut's regular menu (I have yet to try all of their new crust and topping permutations, however), although it was a bit of a challenge to eat as you approached the hot dog crust. Personally, I think the combination of hot dogs and pizza is worse than Donald Trump at a quinceañara, but when sales are down and your job's at stake, any idea is better than no idea.

You may have missed your opportunity to try it (Pizza Hut's website is no longer advertising the Hot Dog Bites Pizza), but count yourself lucky for not having done so. Buen provecho.

The 2013 Philadelphia Wine & Food Festival in Really Bad Pictures

Loafers without socks, leathery faces, and the quiet discomfort of being in a room where everybody makes more money than you. That basically sums up the 2013 Philadelphia Wine and Food Festival. Not that it wasn't a good time. There were some stellar pours, including a perfectly balanced sherry imported by P.R. Grisley Co.* and a sauvingnon blanc from Casa Patronales that drank like a high octane double or triple-IPA (imagine a boozier Double Jack or a less-syrupy Hop'solutely). Plus, it was all you can drink, although I did my best not to render myself useless for the next day's kid party doubleheader.

At the end of it all, I had the opportunity to catch up with a high school buddy of mine who dropped serious knowledge on the challenges of importing wine (P.R. Grisley is only available in 13 states), the effect of the E.U.'s disdain for austerity (It's no secret that Spain and Portugal, where many of P.R. Grisley's imports come from, are kind of fucked right now), and how wine's a whole lot cooler if you're not snobby about it. Check back shortly for a couple videos featuring a real-life Geico caveman and a drunken Spanaird. Buen provecho.

Update: Here's the Spanish bull (toro?) I was talking about. Foreign accents are so cool:

And here's the IRL Geico Caveman:

Dude, you've got some mango salsa in your beard.

*Full disclosure. These guys were my sponsors. I was pretty relieved, however, when their wines were among the best I had all night. It would have been really awkward if they sucked.