My Mom read an article about this supercute food cart in Ballston in yesterday's Washington Post, so we went and had lunch there. The pizza was pretty good: I'd go back. (The crust was nice, the sauce a little bland.) This is especially impressive considering it was cooked in some sort of portable oven.
The high point of our trip wasn't the food, however. When we finally sat down to eat, my Mom said she recognized the folks behind her in line, that they were the parents of an early elementary school friend of mine. So I went up to them and, sure enough, my Mom was right. It turns out my friend is now divorced with two kids.
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