Where food means fuel

Close your eyes for a moment (figuratively, or else how would you read this?).  You take a bite of [something].  Wow!  That’s the best [something] you’ve ever eaten!  Now take another bite.  Whoa, could that be the best anything you’ve ever eaten?  On one fateful Saturday after a blustery 12 miles in the wind and rain around Town Lake I stopped at the downtown farmers’ market.  For weeks I’d been eyeing the blue mobile brick oven stationed at one end of the vendor strip.  Well this day was the day I’d get me some mobile pizza.  Fair warning, if you’re prone to getting jealous easily, now would be a good time to stop reading.

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