Needed a little post-work snack, so I heated up this plate-sized pizza in the toaster oven. Not gonna lie — my love affair with these $1 discs is just about over. Seems like they taste worse every time I eat one.
As the barbecue birthday bash wound down, I snuck out to join some friends for our monthly poker match. Before any friendly game of low-stakes cards can begin, pizza must be eaten. It’s sort of a rule. The host bought this pepperoni pizza, and another cheese one, from Leona’s in Ukrainian Village. It tasted better than it did in my memory, but it’s been a few years.
Leftover Chicago-style sausage pizza. Ate a piece and a half last night for dinner and the same today for lunch. That leaves a full piece for a snack sometime in the next couple days. Sunday night pizza is the gift that keeps on giving, the whole week.
My body has a strange way of telling me things. For the last couple days, that message was: “You haven’t eaten pizza in nearly a month. What’s the matter with you?”
I insisted that the Missus and I honor the Sunday Night Pizza tradition tonight. She picked me up from work, after calling in an order at La Villa for a Chicago-style half-sausage, half-spinach pizza and a side salad. Picked it up on the way home. As I parked, I noticed a heavy amount of smoke coming from a neighbor’s dumpster — kinda made the alley looked like a Spinal Tap concert — so I called 911 to report it. The fire, not my bad Spinal Tap reference.
“Do you want me to stay here and keep and eye on it until the fire department comes?” I asked the dispatcher.
“No, that’s OK,” he told me.
Good. I was hungry. My workday is done. Seriously, though, I don’t think I’ve EVER gone three weeks without pizza before.
Leftover pizza and “boneless hot wings” on a Saturday night.
Can you tell the Missus isn’t home tonight?
Took the bus home from the Cubs game, walked the dog and ordered a pepperoni and sausage pizza from Papa Ray’s. Threw in a small order of “boneless chicken wings,” which in all truth are just chicken tenders with buffalo sauce, in order to satisfy the minimum order for delivery. (Worked out OK, though, since they don’t have a delivery fee when you order online.)
The wings are OK. The pizza’s good. Having the house to myself for a few hours is pretty nice, too.
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I eat it. You digest it.
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