When The Moon Hits Your Eye Like A Great Pizza Pie, That’s Amore

Today I’m thankful for vegan pizza.

Before thinking this sounds silly, imagine that you can’t ever again eat your favorite food.  Whatever the reason is, you can’t have any.  Ever.  I can’t eat any form of dairy.  I get very ill.  I miss pizza.  Pizza, being covered in cheese, dwells in the forbidden zone.  I sometimes imagine the savory, salty taste of dough covered in tomato sauce and cheese, and grumble, just a little.  Any toppings, except fish or mushrooms.  Even the heartburn after, knowing I’d thoroughly enjoyed myself.

I tried a few versions of making one myself, but I have no love for cooking and the result was consistently disappointing.  Consider then the actual joy I felt upon discovering my market carries multiple brands of vegan pizza.  I had choices!  Once every few weeks I’ll buy one, bring it home and bake it.  I’ll eat the whole damn thing.  They aren’t particularly large, and I’m very careful not to do so often.  The rest of my diet is disgustingly healthy.  It isn’t exactly the same as I remember, but my memory is probably idealized anyway.  It is similar enough, and tastes quite good in its own right.  I don’t have to live a pizza-free life anymore.

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An Iron Chef Needs One

Today I’m thankful for iron skillets.

The older lady I volunteer with asked me to clear her kitchen cupboards.  I discovered she had five iron skillets in all different sizes.  I have one skillet and one soup pan.  I told her as much.

She retorted, quite reasonably, that iron skillets are about the single best thing to have in your kitchen.  You can fry anything edible in them.  They can safely be put in the oven to make pie or corn bread.  Mmmm, pie.  With proper care and seasoning they will last practically forever.  She had four boys.  I imagine she always had multiple pans going, both literally and figuratively.

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