Mother Bear’s Pizza Rocks Bloomington, But Not Assembly Hall
Sigh. I have no more tricks left in my closet.
On Saturday, I wore my lucky candy-striped red and white warm-up pants. I wore my favorite Indiana sweatshirt. I wore the socks with pictures of popcorn on them, and grabbed my “IU is red hot” rubber bracelet. I carried the purse made from an IU jersey. I even got out the big guns: my Indiana tennis shoes. (Yes, I have a pair of tennis shoes with “Indiana” and the university logo embroidery stitched on them in bright red.)
And if that weren’t enough to make hapless Ohio State fans nervous, I ate lunch at Mother Bear’s Pizza before heading over to the stadium for the game. How much karma can a college basketball fan cover herself in?
My husband thinks the clothing ritual is humorous — he lost his matching logoed sneakers several years back — but he’s all about indulging in a good pizza for Saturday lunch before the game. And it’s hard to turn down a bargain like a 10-inch one topping pie, an order of breadsticks (well, we could have had salads but you already know how I feel about that) and soft drinks for $13.95. The only disagreement was our usual of what to put on the pizza. He had his heart set on the deluxe with everything dumped on it, which of course violates the one-topping restriction.
Sausage has been my standing pizza order since I was a freshman living at McNutt and buying my own dinner for the first time in my life.
Because we were short on time (hey, the line to get into Mother Bear’s is a bear), I won. I also persuaded him to try the toasted sesame thin crust, because I had to know what something made from three kinds of flour, Parmesan cheese and a dabble of field honey would taste like. Today I’m convinced that’s where I made my mistake: never, ever stray from the script when it comes to superstitions. Not to mention this gourmet crust wasn’t near as satisfying as the traditional pan version, which just screams college campus when you bite into it. But hey, pour enough cheese on it and I’ll overlook it.
So we ended up on the wrong side of the scoreboard again. Now I will do what every loyal fan does in the face of defeat: To the hostess there on Third Street, put me down for a table for two on February 15. I bet you can guess my order. The sniff test says I’ll need to run a special load of laundry before then, too.
Mother Bear’s Pizza
1428 East Third St.
Bloomington, Indiana
(812) 332-4495
Photographer credits: Mother Bear’s website, Julie Sturgeon
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