California, Here We Are
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We have finally arrived! Yesterday, after lunch in Tuscon, we decided to push, skipping Yuma and driving all the way to Camp Pendleton. Famished, as usual, we stopped in Carlsbad and dined at Pizza Port, a great local restaurant that serves “tasty grub and grog.” Under surfboards dangling from the ceiling, we sat at wooden picnic tables surrounded by diners sporting flipflops and hoodies. While I am well equipped in the hoodie department, I definitely need a new pair of shoes.
Pizza Port brews its own beer, which a friend of mine — a San Diegoan-turned-Philadelphian — reported spotting on the Tria menu recently. Ben and I ordered a white pizza with clams and mozzarella. It took a little explaining — I’m not sure they get many requests for white pizza. Our ticket was scribbled with the instructions: “NO SAUCE!!” The beer we ordered, Carlsbad Chronic, reminded us of the Ambar Ale, which of course makes us (me) very happy. And the pizza, though not at all similar to our favorite New Haven-style thin-crust pizza was delectable!
This literally is the view from the cottage we are staying in for the next couple days. This place is unbelievably beautiful, exceeding every expectation, answering every question I had about my crazy college roommates who insisted there was no place on earth like San Diego (and San Francisco).