When your body rejects dairy, there's nothing so stubborn or rebellious as four cheese pizza. It's self-hate, quatre fois! I'm still on a anti-French food kick deep in the middle of Paris, which can set you searching far and wide during lunch. Luckily, Le Mirage is an Italian spot about 10 minutes walk from the job that serves pasta and pizza.
Now, technically you could argue this was pizza "a la EU" given the four cheeses were chèvre, edam, roquefort and mozzarella. I'm not complaining - I got a menu and put in my order in less than two minutes - very un-French-like, thankfully. Peek at the underbelly: it was burned just right, adding a smoky crunch.
The kid has been away from Brooklyn for a while but he still has the technique. Knife and fork for pizza? That's a pure chump move - I'd rather pour that olive oil in the background down my pants. Cheese-wise, the chèvre always got the last hoof-kick in but it wasn't overpowering. The four managed to get along nicely.
Puffin, you say I eat like a bird, but check the damage. Those are the remainder crumbs of four rather large slices, in case you're keeping count. And no, I didn't slide em onto another table to take this shot (though that did cross my mind.)
I wasn't even done yet - how could I not order the "Tiramisu Nutella"? It was a bowl of tiramisu with a generous dabbing of Nutella on top. Now, being up front about things, you could put Nutella on my forearm and I'd probably eat it, bone and all. Nutella makes everything excellent. This was close to being over the top - just too sweet, even for me. But, I bared down and finished it off. For a better Tiramisu, perhaps one of the best I've ever had, go check out Gusto.
60, rue Charonne