My pizza crisis
I live in an area where food is not just sustenance that keeps you going day to day. The food culture here is absolutely wonderful. In a lot of ways, living on a coast is a blessing for self-proclaimed foodies.
I am not arrogant enough to call myself a foodie or even a food expert, but I know where to go to get the good stuff — the good grub. In Rhode Island, there are tons of family-owned Italian bakeries around here. They are magnificent.
Beyond the fresh baked bread, rolls, zepoles, wandies, macaroons, boston cream pies, wine biscuits, cookies, pies, cakes, Napoleons, fudge and other tantalizing sweets, there is also something else the bakeries do around here with a special love, flavor and artisanal craftsmanship: pizza.
This isn’t fucking Dominos. Okay? This is primo party pizza that when your lips touch it, you will be enchanted by that savory delight — your cravings will be totally satisfied.
Imagine a nice thick flavorful dough that is shaped into a rectangle made from the bountiful grains and wheat of Mother Earth’s bosom. Imagine a little old Italian lady waking up to the golden sun rising, making this perfectly seasoned dough, letting it rise, and then she pushes it down with her little wrinkled hands. As that dough rises to perfection, she is busy making a spicy pizza sauce with an assortment of spices that ignite your palate like a space shuttle launch.
Make that dough rise, greasy grannie, make it rise like my… heart rate?
Non-sequiturs aside, point being that granny knows what she’s doing. She is a culinary assassin who has me in her sites and can take me down with a slice of her pepperoni, cheese, mushroom, and onion. Lately at this vegetable stand, they make this vegetarian white pizza. This white pizza has olives, tomatoes, onions, broccoli and red peppers brushed with oil, and the garlic you smell off this sucker — be prepared to go into a food coma.
Now the pizza I just described sounds great, right?
Here comes the Catholic guilt. I also still like Pizza Hut. Yep. You can all get in line and slap me one.
The Supreme Pan pizza, I don’t know what the hell they put into that thing. I don’t know what is in their stuffed crust pizza, asides cheese (and heroin). Don’t’ know what they put into their breadsticks and I could care less. Pizza Hut satisfies.
Until I read something absolutely atrocious about Pizza Hut that happened last year. I read that Pizza Hut was experimenting with a new type of stuffed crust and they were going to market it towards the markets in the UK, but there was a chance it would make its way back to the United States. It was a stuffed crust pizza— stuffed with hot dogs.
Fucking hot dogs.
I realize that cuisine in England has a reputation for being sort of… crappy. Bangers and mash aside, what in the hell is going on in the UK? This all sounds like some sort of bad nightmare that’s alive and well much like Freddy Kruger (loves those movies).
It’s bad enough that I sometimes like pizza despite all the great local pizza parlors around here — don’t ruin my goddamn pizza by putting hot dogs in the crust! Wanna know what’s in a hot dog? Basically it’s all the animal bi-products that Chinese labor can’t make into a leather belt.
Don’t ruin my pizza, Pizza Hut. I will not forgive.