I didn't think it was possible to ruin homemade pizza, but I managed to do it the other day. I had been busy all week with Stuff, and I hadn't been feeding my family very well. Granted, the day I bought the rotisserie chicken from the grocery store wasn't bad. We actually had vegetables and a good protein, though the pearled couscous I accidentally bought was not a hit.
So when I thought about making pizza two days later, I was rather proud of myself. Chris and the girls love my pizza. Joe? He will just have to deal with it. In between the phone calls and my mind being elsewhere, I whipped up some dough and left it to rise. Two hours later, when I rolled out the dough and started topping the pizzas, I realized I didn't have as much pizza cheese as I thought I had. No matter. A bit of cheddar will do. No black olives were in the pantry, though. How is it that on the days I'm not wanting them, there are five cans of olives instead of beans or corn, but today there are none?
A half hour later, and the pizzas came out of the oven. I sat down to eat, mentally patting myself on the back. And then I took a bite.
Who knew a little missing salt and olive oil could totally ruin a meal?
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