Pizza

 

While I have sung praise of my father’s culinary efforts, it’s time to share an joint endeavor of ours that manifests in everyone’s favorite comfort food: pizza. Pizza is, for all intents and purposes, a universal language that spans across multiple countries and cultures, although like with most languages, there’s bound to be something lost in translation. In Germany, for instance, pepperoni refers to a searing hot pepper instead of the cut of sausage to which Americans are most familiar with. So you can imagine the panic on my parent’s faces when I, in my limited understanding of German, asked for a pie that would have set my mouth ablaze. But I digress. Pizza making is a process me and my father take on together. He shapes and subsequently tosses the dough, as you do, whereas I focus on saucing the pie and adorning it with a plethora of toppings. A plain cheese pizza is a rare occurrence in our house, but that’s because we’re always looking for new ways to be creative. And to scare mommy half to death once she sees all the calories we’ll be ingesting.