Sometimes, it’s time for pizza and ice cream. Crusty’s extra-crispy, extra-good pizza and long-line worthy Ice Cream Alley ice cream. Hidden in a funky old house between two thrift shops in little old McCall is one of the best pizza places ever, as it turns out. Home to all kinds of weird and weirdly great toppings and perfect thin crust, Crusty’s is usually packed with all the hip folks of McCall (and all the smokejumpers, the coolest of all.)
Giving the ol’ grill a break, we all trekked in to Crusty’s and ordered: a regular ol’ pepperoni n’ garlic, “Wildest West” with olives and onions and elk sausage (…because we had to try the elk sausage, obviously), and a “West Coast” with sundried tomatoes and artichoke hearts and prosciutto. 36 pieces of pizza between 9 people, that’s 4 pieces a person, there was sure to be leftovers. Lots of leftovers. Nope. One scrawny little piece. Good pizza.
The little bistro I work at is across from an ice cream parlor, and every single hot sticky day us downtrodden workers are forced to watch vacationers savor their melting scoops of mint chip and cookies and cream and wallow in envy. So every day my bestest work friend Tayler (above, loving some Crusty’s) and I plot our post-work ice cream, and every day we manage to talk ourselves out of it. But finally, after weeks of imagining it, our ice cream dreams finally came to life, with colossal scoops of strawberry ice cream covered in sprinkles, eaten on the end of a dock in the last little bit of sun.
anna cotta 