I would not have thought it possible, but I am getting pizza’d out. With the boys it has been an 18 year pizza fest and even great pizza is still pizza.
I estimate I have had at least 30,000 peanut butter sandwiches in my life and I never tire of them. Or ice cream. Or beer. But Pizza? With the exception of deep dish made on the smoker, if I never eat pizza again, it would be ok with me.
Don’t get me wrong. Mississippi Pizza makes great pizza. Good crust with fresh topping. Instead of the same ole same ole of tomato sauce we had pesto, mushrooms, sausage and fresh tomato. It was a really good pizza, but, I am sorry to say, even great pizza elicits a meh. They have a good mixed drink menu, a small but diverse collection of beers on tap and an relaxed atmosphere. I just wish I could have eaten something other than pizza.
But we were not there for the Pizza but to see Dusu Mali. I feel so sorry for musicians. This is a fantastic band: they do West African style music, a kind of rock/blues with each song 10–15 minutes of jazz improvisation. They are tremendous musicians playing a unique (for Portland) and delightful style of music. To a crowd of 20. Such a shame.
The only problem with this show is the usual for us geezers. They started at 10 pm did’t end until 12:20 am. That is tough hours for us old working stiffs.
The band noted they are trying to play at least twice a month. Go.