After driving to Palm Springs and Rancho Mirage, we decided to try a highly rated restaurant in Palm Springs called Bill’s Pizza since 1.) we wanted to get out and explore the city, and 2.) we hadn’t eaten hardly anything for 7-8 hours so we were starving. They ranked towards the top of entrants in the international pizza competition with one of their entries and have attracted a glowing, almost cult-like following among certain foodies. Unequivocally, their reputation is well deserved. Even living in the New York area for several years, let both Aaron and I say: This is some of the best pizza we’ve ever eaten. It was a work of art. If we lived within an hour’s drive, we’d make the trip for it. The flavor balance, the ingredients; it’s flawless. I want this in Kansas City. I want this now.
Aaron and I ate at a place called Bill’s Pizza Palm Springs because it was so highly recommended. It has won all sorts of awards, including being a finalist in the world pizza competition. The menu is enormous because you can essentially get anything you want.
The view outside from my window at Bill’s Pizza Palm Springs …
Aaron ordered an individual sausage and pepperoni pizza …
I ordered the so-called “Hammer and Sickle”. We all know who is to blame for this: The Tolmachevy Sisters and all that imperial symbolism in Russia’s Eurovision entry. I won’t let communism get ahold of me. It’s just one delicious pizza … I promise.
The sunset was beautiful because the mountains cast shadows over the town … we were making our way back to the main road after eating at Bill’s Pizza …
The path in front of us …
We checked out the shops along the main road …
There was a hidden outdoor wedding chapel under an archway to the right … I liked it. I also liked something else in this picture 😉
Fellow Berkshire Hathaway shareholders rejoice! Even out here in the desert, we’re making money.
Aaron wanted to try one of the highly rated ice cream shops, too. He got a peanut butter cup shake. Alas, I couldn’t afford the calories so I forwent the indulgence. I don’t know what’s wrong with America that we feel the need to put a donut on the straw – as if the chocolate, peanut butter, ice cream, and whipped cream weren’t sufficient.
I’m starting to get the appeal of the oasis in the desert. I’m still not sure if it’s home because it’s so different from what I’ve experienced throughout my life, but I can see why some people enjoy it.
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