What is it about pizza? I mean, essentially, it is an open-face sandwich. Meat, cheese, bread. But there is something magical about pizza, when it is at its best.
We had friends over last evening, and I cooked. Yes a quick trip to town and I returned with the pies. It seems I have a tendency to buy too much. Which was, once again, the case last night.
But that brings joy to my life the following day! Leftover Pizza. Our dinner this evening. As I was revisiting this wonderful creation of the kitchen, I wondered exactly why it tastes so darn good. Is it the roundness? The order of the open-face layers? Or is it the hype? It might just be the perfect combination.
Albeit, there are good pizzas and bad pizzas. Just like people.
I think it is one of those things in life which can’t quite be explained.
Since we are on the food patrol. Why is it that sandwiches always taste better when they are cut in half. And they jump off the chart when you slice them on the diagonal. Another life mystery.
A few more I thoughts of today.
• No one has ever been in an empty room.
• Deja Vu. It freaks me out. Over and over again. You too? You too?
• Here is one that might be coming up. What if the cow really does jump over the moon….. but….. on the day of the solar eclipse?
• I think it seems somehow, terribly wrong, when you dip chicken in beaten eggs before you dust it with flour. It is like saying the big F-U, isn’t it?
• In light of everything that is happening with North Korea, I think everyone should start playing the Doomsday Theme Video Games. Like Fallout 4. Just to get in practice for the real thing.
• Maybe….. the best cards to have when you are playing any game with a Trump, are two hearts.
And back to the beginning of this. It seems like I am always giving you a pizza my mind.
“I’m the living embodiment of ‘it could be worse’.”
― Dan Howell
“We are what we believe we are!”
― C.S. Lewis
“I came here to say that I do not recognize anyone’s right to one minute of my life. Nor to any part of my energy. Nor to any achievement of mine. No matter who makes the claim, how large their number or how great their need. I wished to come here and say that I am a man who does not exist for others.” – Howard Roark”
― Ayn Rand, The Fountainhead