Our server at California Pizza Kitchen is an outgoing, talkative young man who quickly finds out where we’re from and what we’re doing there. He cheerfully welcomes us to California and starts talking Dallas sports with me. I’m not sure I’m emotionally ready to talk sports, though – I’m still hurting from the Texas Rangers’ narrow loss in Game 6 of the World Series, that allowed St. Louis to win it in Game 7.
Fortunately, our server knows where my heart lies – “Are you a Stars fan?” He, like me, is a hockey fan foremost. He watched the World Series and even pulled for the Rangers (after we knocked off Detroit, at least), but baseball is not his first love. I can relate.
Becky and I will be meeting friends for supper in just a few hours, so we don’t want to stuff ourselves, but we do need something that will last us until then. We decide to share a single pizza, and settle on a thin-crust Pesto Chicken pizza that is topped with chicken, onions, Mozzarella, sun-dried tomatoes, a basil pesto sauce and toasted pine nuts. It seems like a very California thing to have.
While we wait on the pizza, we admire the scenery out the window. It’s a beautiful, sunny day. We can see the top of our hotel from here. We enjoy watching the people walking the street lined with (vicious) palm trees.
The pizza arrives, and it’s perfect – crisp, light, and flavorful. We each demolish half of it, and we come away satisfied but not stuffed. Back to the hotel we go.
Once up in our room, I hang up the shirt I’ll be wearing tomorrow – which is all the “unpacking” that’s necessary – and then take a few more pictures of our room. And our view. It is so gorgeous.
Becky breaks out a bag of caramel apple candy corn that we brought to snack on. It’s a nice dessert.
We have a full hour until our car arrives to take us to Hollywood. I set an alarm on my phone to give us about a 40-minute nap, and we stretch out on the pillow-top king bed. Ooooooh my, this is comfortable. I don’t sleep, but I easily could. I’m glad I set the alarm.