As such, it took a solid 30 minutes to get four slices for two of us. The crust was barely cooked, the toppings barely warmed. On my two, I’d gone for the eponymous Hell’s once again, and when I picked it up, what was on the plate was a plain mozzarella slice with a barely warmed piece of bacon on top of it. Thinking they’d just given me the wrong slice, I asked, and got back, “we don’t have the ingredients to make those anymore, so this is what you get”. No jalapeños, no chipotle sauce, no smoked mozzarella, and a limp piece of bacon on grainy pizza cheese. I protested that I’d only ordered that slice (at a premium cost) because I wanted the spicy and smoked stuff – the guy grabbed a bottle of sriracha and squirted it across the slice and said, “there, spicy”, and walked away.

Let’s just say I’m downgrading this spot and walking away myself.

Well, maybe guffaw rather than blush!

In other news, we arrived in Madrid today and followed in your footsteps to Mercado San Antón. Had the cod and cider among other things. We fly to Mexico tomorrow and are heading to Oaxaca, which promises some foodie treats.