Restaurant Review: Henning’s Pizza Of Naples, Florida **Updated**

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A correction is in order. My sources inform me that my description of the location as being in the southern part of Naples, Fl is not correct. The area is actually identified by highly knowledgeable local residents as being East Naples. I stand corrected.

(If I didn’t do this, my Mom would punish me. Never argue with your mother – blogger rule #47.)

Restaurant review time again. This one is pizza. In Florida. Everyone knows Florida is famous for pizza. Then again, maybe not. That might change after this review of Henning’s Chicago Kitchen, in Naples, Florida.

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Let’s cut to the chase: pictures first.

Florida: where you can eat pizza outside without a parka.

Florida: where you can eat pizza outside without a parka.

This is the stockyards smoked brisket. Wonderful stuff.

This is the stockyards smoked brisket. Wonderful stuff.

Big picture of the Stockyards Smoked Brisket.

Big picture of the Stockyards Smoked Brisket.

Life is not complete without pepperoni. This one is the Grabber.

Life is not complete without pepperoni. This one is the Grabber.

Let’s do this right: I’ve eaten a lot of pizza, quite a bit of it in Italy. In my youth I was there fairly often courtesy of Uncle Sam. I know what cheap pizza is (had some of that a week ago when I was too lazy to do anything but dive into the freezer at home) and I’ve had some pizza that was so expensive that my judgement was questioned. The real question should be: was it good pizza? If you’re asking about Henning’s, the answer is yes.

My beloved / sainted / long-suffering mother (all apply with kids like us and a couple of big dogs thrown in) lives in Naples and we just completed a visit. One of the things that has been lacking on her end of the city was a decent pizza place. There was pizza, but it was not up to snuff. Especially in light of the fact that about 1/2 the population comes from New York, New Jersey, and other east coast spots that know what a real pie should be when it hits the table. Enter Henning’s.

It’s the owner’s first restaurant, and he’s an amiable fellow. We chatted for quite a while as we devoured our selections. He didn’t know he was being interviewed. Based on his story, he did it right. He studied, trained under real pizza chefs, and sought out great beverages and ingredients for his restaurant. Most importantly, he got staff that cared about the product.

We had two pizzas: the Grabber and the Stockyards Smoked Brisket.

The problem was, we ordered the Big Sexy, not the Grabber. Writing a review, that would normally be a big problem. It wasn’t for two reasons: the server was very gregarious and a large truck rumbled through as we ordered – easy to confuse it considering we’d asked him about the Grabber earlier. The second reason for not making an issue was – both pizzas were so good that the person who got “cheated” was ecstatic about the pizza they got.

I’ve never had a non-traditional mix as good as that Stockyards Smoked Brisket. I’ve eaten some strange things on a pile of dough, but this was the best. Sweet (not overpowering) and tender. The various meats were masterfully prepared. Every bite was savory and the occasional hint of onion was a delight.

The Grabber was one of those pizzas that I have dreams about. Every bit as good as it looks and superior flavor to the pepperoni. There was a bit of heat to the sausage which is unusual. Pepperoni is usually so bland and tasteless as to be useless. Not here: more like Chorizo. I loved it to say the least.

Service was okay. The first waiter left before we were done and handed us off to another employee. His name is Max and he did a superior job. As the only table outside (it was 70 in Florida: cold, nobody sits outside) we kind of got lost in the shuffle when he left. The waitress who took over our coverage did come around in a bit and was quite pleasant. If that’s the only part of things that doesn’t work, no problem in my opinion. I don’t think it was a slight, but an oversight.

Overall rating:

Food: 4.5 of 5 (Had better pizza other places, but not in a long time.)
Service: 3.5 but suspect it’s lots better if there were a few more people outside and a few fewer inside.
Overall: 4.0 for all pizza joints. But in Naples, they’re the winner on the south[east] side without a doubt.They are a 5 star location for Naples.

I will go back. Nice people, good pizza, and they deliver to the nearby developments. Matter of fact, their delivery zone is huge. Give them a try if you’re in South{East] Naples.

Need a pizza in Naples? This is the place.

Need a pizza in Naples? This is the place.

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I appreciate your help. When we hit 2,000,000 readers I will give away something cool to a drawing from the subscribers (that’s the box on the right toward the top) who have helped promote this mess. No used sheets, probably not honey, more likely gift cards. Be a part of it. I’ll update from time to time where we’re at in the count. Thanks.

Three Decades Of Putting Up With Joe Courtemanche. Happy Anniversary, Honey.

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sizedkipandjoeinhaiti

That picture is a few years old. We were in Haiti on a missions trip with Healing Haiti. It was, by far, our best anniversary by any measure. Serving God, warm weather, years of spiritual growth together. And, a pretty awesome cake thanks to our friends.

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Thirty years ago we headed off to Lake Tahoe with a handful of friends. All of us active duty, all of us linguists. I’ve looked at that wedding picture in places I can’t even talk about, but always with a smile and a question: How did I get such a babe?

The answer is not that there was a huge dowry. Nor did we think we’d set the world on fire as a singing duo. Nope, we loved each other with an unreasoning passion. We had to get married or die. I sure felt that way. I think she did as well.

Now, after more speed bumps and obstacles than any couple should face, we can look back on thirty years together. We’ve both grown in Christ. I know I’ve grown in other ways, but you can fix that by purchasing larger sizes at Fleet Farm.

I consider myself blessed to have this good woman as my wife.

If you are considering marriage, or your marriage is in trouble, let me offer you some free advice: “For better or worse, in sickness and in health” means just what it says. Stick to your mate, tough out the bad times. Love each other and offer support when it gets dark and stormy rather than run out the door looking for a respite.

Be one. Be joined. Cleave unto each other.

It’s worked for us for three decades. I hope another three are on tap.

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I have a favor to ask of my readers: would you kindly share this blog with your friends, family, and colleagues? We hit a million views in 2014, and while the readership continues a nice growth trend, it could be a lot better. Just hit the Facebook like button, share it on your timeline, tweet the blog with a link, and tell that person at the next desk that there’s this lunatic who writes about all sorts of stuff that they might like.

I appreciate your help. When we hit 2,000,000 readers I will give away something cool to a drawing from the subscribers (that’s the box on the right toward the top) who have helped promote this mess. No used sheets, probably not honey, more likely gift cards. Be a part of it. I’ll update from time to time where we’re at in the count. Thanks.

Brian Williams Is Not Equivalent To Any Of The Ones You Are Pointing Out: Relative Evil/Lying Is still Lying/Evil.

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Today it started: “Brian Williams just fibbed a little. What about…” Enough. Let’s talk about this below and sort out why this kind of stupidity is so hurtful to our processes.

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Bill O’Reilly is the main target of this stupidity. He once said he was in combat. He was pretty clear about where and when: as a reporter armed with a pen in Central America. He never claimed to be in the military (that I could find,) nor did he claim to be in combat with United States forces in the Persian Gulf. Bill isn’t everyone’s cup of tea, and I can barely stand him. I am not a regular viewer.

But it saddens me that people are purposely misconstruing his words (I sought out the clips and listened to them. Yes, on the left-wing Fox News bashing sites themselves. It’s very clear what he does/doesn’t say) just to make it political. It’s not. Bill is a pundit. But he didn’t lie about this issue.

Brian Williams is the voice of one of the largest companies in the nation. He has a nightly audience in the millions/tens of millions. He is allegedly a journalist, not a pundit. His lie about the aircraft taking fire is bad enough. But now his other reports are called into question. What about that dead body floating by during hurricane Katrina? Was that a lie? If it was, it helped turn the nation against the president more than any other statement I remember. What else was made up?

He had a significant platform that was supposedly impartial. O’Reilly was always a partisan for Bill O’Reilly. And that’s the last time I mention his name, for the rest of this post goes to the issue of bald-faced lying.

Speaking of Hillary Clinton, presidential candidate, she was even more egregious than Mr. Williams. She lied about many things, including Benghazi, during her time in the public eye. But none stands out more than the piece of video below. I didn’t make it up, they are the woman’s own words from her own evil mouth. Take a minute to watch and then read on below. (The source is CBS News. Not exactly a right-wing cabal.)

Simply put, no military unit, no Secret Service agent, no aide to the First Lady would allow her, and her child, to be brought into an area with an active sniper. The plane would have gone on elsewhere. Period. End of story. Only a completely deranged liar would put that story out with the video present to watch on the web, and thousands of people involved in that trip. That describes Mrs. Clinton.

I’m sure some of you are squirming in your seats about my political viewpoint. The truth is ugly. But if the press is on your side you figure you can get away with anything. If she hadn’t been running against Obama for the nomination at that moment, but was already in the general election phase, I’m pretty sure John McCain wouldn’t have been seeing that on his television when he tuned in at night. It would have been the sound of crickets.

I’ll make it clear to all of you for whom moral relativism is the daily flavor: I don’t care what someone else did, or did not, do in comparison to your boy/girl. If they are guilty of the deeds that Brian Williams clearly is, if they have twisted the truth as Hillary Clinton has, how can you repose trust and faith in them ever again? It’s not just a cute war story that gets better with a couple of vodkas at the VFW. Those are almost always embellished. That’s part of the context. We know they are embellished because they start with phrases like, “This is no ****” or “There I was, minding my own business” or “Back on the U.S.S. Ustafish, we had a kid…” We all know they’re “sea stories” and most are like fairy tales. Some are true. But we know how it’s done.

When you do it every night on NBC, or running for the White House, it’s not just a fib, it’s a public statement that you think all of us (watchers and voters) are stupid and deserve to be lied to so you can be more important. I hate the fact that these two evil (yes, evil) people who lie to all of us so boldly, will go on to regain most people’s respect because they will buy the spin and forget the truth.

That, ladies and gentlemen, is the work of Satan.

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I have a favor to ask of my readers: would you kindly share this blog with your friends, family, and colleagues? We hit a million views in 2014, and while the readership continues a nice growth trend, it could be a lot better. Just hit the Facebook like button, share it on your timeline, tweet the blog with a link, and tell that person at the next desk that there’s this lunatic who writes about all sorts of stuff that they might like.

I appreciate your help. When we hit 2,000,000 readers I will give away something cool to a drawing from the subscribers (that’s the box on the right toward the top) who have helped promote this mess. No used sheets, probably not honey, more likely gift cards. Be a part of it. I’ll update from time to time where we’re at in the count. Thanks.

More Of It Seen, Not Quite All Of It Yet.

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This morning I was travelling down the highway when a Prius pulled out in front of me, in the left lane, with emergency flashers going and two pieces of particle board strapped to the roof.

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This is on a road under construction, lane restrictions, average speed 55+. He’s going maybe 18.7, passenger and driver both have outside hand out the window holding down the boards. Tied down with at least two wraps of cheap twine.

Every time I witness such an exhibition I despair for the driving public. There are maroons, and then there are maroons, to cite that eminent philosopher Buggs Bunny.

I think Buggs would be a better driver. I was in Florida for the past week. I think Elmer Fudd has a shot at being a better driver. This is largely due to the demographic: older than me. Elmer’s covering the younger demographic: road ragers.

I might have some road rage if I drove here long enough. Younger drivers lose it after a while due to the heart-pounding adrenaline dumps you get when seniors pull out in front of you at freeway speeds. I have learned to keep my idiot box about 5x it’s normal size this past week. I will be as bad, or worse, when my hearing and sight decline to the level of my motor skills. This is just aging taking its toll.

The Prius, however, topped the cake.

I’m going to risk it all in a few minutes and head out to a local restaurant with my mom and wife. I will set the blog to post automatically tomorrow – just in case I don’t make it back.

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I have a favor to ask of my readers: would you kindly share this blog with your friends, family, and colleagues? We hit a million views in 2014, and while the readership continues a nice growth trend, it could be a lot better. Just hit the Facebook like button, share it on your timeline, tweet the blog with a link, and tell that person at the next desk that there’s this lunatic who writes about all sorts of stuff that they might like.

I appreciate your help. When we hit 2,000,000 readers I will give away something cool to a drawing from the subscribers (that’s the box on the right toward the top) who have helped promote this mess. No used sheets, probably not honey, more likely gift cards. Be a part of it. I’ll update from time to time where we’re at in the count. Thanks.

The Names Don’t Matter. The Healing Does.

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Posts like this one are touchy. I want to tell this story because it has taken a beautiful turn, yet I don’t want to hurt anyone by telling it in the wrong way. I will try my hardest to put it in the positive light it deserves.

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Several years ago I was heavily involved in an organization as a volunteer. I put in long hours, had great responsibilities, and loved the people I was involved with each day. Over time that relationship quit “doing it” for me. I became disenchanted with things, was sure I knew a better path, and eventually wound up leaving.

I did not take that step lightly. I had dear friends within those walls. People whom I considered brothers and sisters, mothers and fathers. I prayed for a very long time. I sought guidance from people I respected. I listened to what I was sure God was telling me to do in order to regain my joy with life.

My departure was orderly. I turned over all of my materials, showed the leader of the group where everything was, prepared a pass-down briefing, and quietly said goodbye all in the space of a single day. I thought I’d done things the right way.

It turns out that something I had done/not done caused a resentment to smolder. It burst into flame some time later. I was crushed: I could not figure out what I’d done wrong.

Over all the time since I left, I’ve continued to volunteer with two associated groups in the same building. This brought me into contact with my old group on a semi-regular basis. It was almost as cold a relationship as the weather in Minnesota.

One evening, as I got out of my car, the wind almost knocked me over. I finished my work with one group and got ready to leave the building. I’d done some good work, accomplished a lot of what was needed and helped them move toward their goals. They’re a good bunch, they don’t need me, but they appreciate the help and experience. It was fulfilling.

An old friend was between me and the door. We gave each other a hug and chatted for a moment. As I looked up one of the people whom I had been estranged from was walking by on the way to their office. I spoke up and offered some words of comfort for a sick relative of theirs. I extended that olive branch at the risk of a rebuke. Instead, “We all need that prayer. Thank you.” A kind response. A good response. A smile.

My friend then informed me that the person we were speaking of was in the next room. God, who is merciful and great, moved me across the room to talk to a person I had given up hope of ever talking to again. I got down on my knees (she was seated) so that we would be at eye level and as I knelt she said, “I just asked God to bring you to me yesterday. I want to apologize.”

If that moment hadn’t happened to me, I’d suspect it as bad writing in a poorly written novel. There, next to the Christmas tree we traded apologies, talked about life and illness, and smiled at each other for the first time in years. It felt good. It was the right thing to do. I gained back a friend by listening to God.

In the next few moments I had a chance to make amends with another person. All I could say was that I was glad we were healing and letting the enmity go. I had regained two people who mean a very great deal to me. I was blessed.

As I left, I was walking on a cushion of joy. God had healed broken hearts, including mine. I had carried around that hurt for way too long. I was released from yet another bond of that liar, Satan. In the space of fifteen minutes I had gained back a large part of my life that I had assumed was lost forever.

Today, if you’re up to it, I’d like you to search your heart for a missing piece. Look for that broken bit that you can heal by stepping out in faith. I’m not asking you to walk into a buzz-saw, or risk your physical well-being. But pray about fixing a broken friendship. Look at the possibility of finding peace with an estranged friend.

Most of all, trust God when he tells you to say a kind word to a person in need.

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I have a favor to ask of my readers: would you kindly share this blog with your friends, family, and colleagues? We hit a million views in 2014, and while the readership continues a nice growth trend, it could be a lot better. Just hit the Facebook like button, share it on your timeline, tweet the blog with a link, and tell that person at the next desk that there’s this lunatic who writes about all sorts of stuff that they might like.

I appreciate your help. When we hit 2,000,000 readers I will give away something cool to a drawing from the subscribers (that’s the box on the right toward the top) who have helped promote this mess. No used sheets, probably not honey, more likely gift cards. Be a part of it. I’ll update from time to time where we’re at in the count. Thanks.