The Blind Onion

"It doesn't look very good," says Mavel when I show her the picture on the website, trying to sell it to her for dinner. Ah well, my friend, it doesn't need to look good because the onion is blind.

I'll give Mavel her point, this pizza is not a looker. The cheese looks too shiny and the "hand-rolled" crust doesn't do anything for me except remind me of a berry pie which is not what I crave when I open the pizza box. "Ah, but looks are deceiving," said the wise Blind Onion. This pie is scrumptious. Its dough raises it above other sighted pizzas. It might not matter what toppings you but on it because the highlight of this pizza is the generous topping of cheese and the dough, the thick-but-not-too-dense bagel dough.

I have a friend who used to sell art and she always told me that the way you know you found the right piece is if you can't stop thinking about it, if it pops into your mind at unexpected times. Two weeks after I met the Blind Onion for the first time, in a strip mall in the Couve, I could not keep him off my mind. I found the right piece. This is art for my mouth.

(I had, however, stopped thinking about the Blind Onion's window art: is that a blind dog eating a piece of the Blind Onion? I'm not sure, but according to The Blind Onion Story on their website, the Blind Onion was part of "America's first all sight-impaired" band back in the 1960s. Sadly, the band was ill-fated, according to the story, because it had an annoying habit of making the audience cry. Ha ha ha.)