On a church trip to Washington about eight years ago, we stopped in Missoula. We were only there for a few hours, but I thought it was such a beautiful place. I liked it so much that a year or two later, I considered going to college at the University of Montana. (When I got the brochure, they emphasized how it was the perfect place to live if you’re into outdoor sports. I am not, and decided against it.)

While we were there, I remember eating at a place that I think was called McKenzie River Pizza. It was the best pizza ever, so fantastic that even so long afterwards I remember that it had a whole-wheat crust, pesto instead of tomato sauce, and eggplant and artichoke hearts.

Now I am hungry again.