Anybody wanna fight about pizza? [View all]

It could take our minds off more depressing topics.

This is the sort of topic that starts fights – everybody has strong opinions about pizza. It’s practically our national dish. So here’s my opinion.

I don’t care for it much anymore. It’s fine food, nutritious enough, tasty. It’s just one of several foods that I’ve eaten enough of in my lifetime. (French toast is also on my list.) When Tombstone frozen became available, my family went for it. Dad liked it, we liked it, and while she didn’t eat it, Mom was just happy she didn’t have to cook. College was more Tombstone and also takeout. Then I married a guy who could happily eat it every week. And there are office meetings with – more pizza. I’m pretty sure that if I could take about a 5 year break, I’d order it with gusto. Just not now.

However, the aforementioned husband is the reason I’m still getting my share of the pie. We eat it out at least once a month, sometimes get takeout, and I make a mighty fine pizza at least once a month. And it’s a cheap meal at office meetings. I eat it. But there are rules.

There are 4 distinct layers to a pizza; crust, schmeer, toppings, and cheese.

The crust has to be good. Its primary job is to support the rest of the pie in handheld pieces, so structure is a big deal. I’m not crazy about deep dish because there’s just too much bread to filling ratio. I’m ok with a cracker-crisp style, but it’s not my favorite. This leaves thin, but chewy, and a little thicker and chewy. And it has to taste good; just salty enough, a little hint of olive oil, the wheat flavor of well-treated yeast dough.

Schmeer – tomato sauce is traditional, but oil/garlic is a worthy second. The big thing here is that it is just a smear. A little sauce to moisten the bread and season the toppings. This small amount means it needs to be highly seasoned, or it’ll be unnoticeable. But if it drips, it’s too much.

Toppings is where we get into the weeds. I’m not talking about whether you can have the dreaded Canadian bacon/pineapple. Or other exotica. There was a pizza I really liked at a now-long-closed takeout joint that involved crust, garlic/oil, onions and artichoke hearts, and feta. We always requested the addition of Italian sausage. It was a truly great combination. I miss that place.

Obviously, you have the freedom of your favorites, whatever they may be. But I will argue for keeping the number and sheer volume of fillings to a minimum. There’s only so much you can ask a crust to support and there’s nothing worse than picking up a wedge only to have it fold like a wet handkerchief and dump everything into your plate or lap. You shouldn’t have to hunch over the table for safety and you can’t eat it with a knife and fork. There will be looks. There will be comments. There will be laughter, not with, but at you.

My choice is no more than 3 toppings, not counting cheese and spices, totaling a clothes-safe volume with a decent amount of each topping.

Final layer is cheese. Without it, you have a tart of some kind and it may be great, but it’s not pizza. Except for the one long gone but long remembered pizza with feta, to me this means mozzarella. And for me, it means Too Much Cheese ™.

Ok, it’s not trademarked, at least by me. But I can skip the toppings as long as there’s a good crust, a good schmeer, and Too Much Cheese ™. Well browned and bubbly, a serious threat to the inside of your mouth, but too good to wait.

Let the fight begin.