So Mark pokes his head into the office last night and said, “Let’s order take0ut pizza tomorrow with pepperoni and sausage.”
What? Let’s order take-out pizza? Really? In what universe is my husband thinking that take-out pizza is better than the pizza I make from almost scratch (I buy the pizza dough)? I was slightly offended. And then I realized it wasn’t the take-out pizza. It was the sausage and pepperoni. I tend towards the fancy in my pizzas – prosciutto and caramelized onions. Not pepperoni and sausage. So tonight, we basically had “he said” and “she said” pizzas.
He said: MEAT!!!!! Mark is all about the meat. He built his pizza with the precision of an Army strategist planning an intricate battle. When you grow up on cornbread and beans, meat becomes the focus of your life. The dang thing was so heavy you could barely pick it up. I will admit it was good. Just a little of it was good. By the way, if you want to make pizza at home just get dough from the supermarket (Publix and Trader Joe’s have it), crank up the oven as high as it will go and use a pizza stone if you have one.
She said: Elegance. Mark considers the pizza dough as a conveyance for toppings, almost exclusively consisting of meat. I consider pizza as a flatbread, the taste of the bread being as important as what goes on top. Mine had a brush of olive oil, oregano, sauteed peppers and onions, sliced green olives and cheese. I will readily admit both Mark and I agree on the necessity of cheese. Lots of cheese.
We disagree on what makes a good pizza, but victory was mine tonight in one arena. After supper, Mark stuck his head in the office again. And said, “Pizza at home is better than take out.” Hello? Of course it is.