Pizza Theory

My stories are like children. They are there for you to play with and to learn from.
As they learn from you...

I select.
I then take the dough and open it on the flour. The dough is white, soft, round; yet tight in the center. My fingers press down all around the outer circle, and into a defined circular motion. All the air bubbles dissapate...
I slap it back and forth between my hands, maintaining the circular shape until it is big enough to throw. And then I throw...
I throw left-handed, spinning the dough on its' fat spot, larger, and larger, until it fits...

"We're hungry!"

There is pizza for everyone. Small, medium, large, even extra large, with all kinds of ingredients.
Hot, fresh, delicious, and at a price you can afford!
Some folks like pepperoni. Others like sausage and mushroom. Others like vegetarian style. And yet, others want the white pizza (made with olive oil instead of tomato sauce).

At the risk of soul-searching, Soul Food gets its due propers. After all, where do you think this all came from?

"I like it with all the meats."
"I like the Combo."
"I like the Hawaiian."
"What's on your special?"

All the mindless conflicts and drama are miles away. The deadly arms and the smoke of war stop at this door. We stand together hungrily, yet patient.
It is pizza we come for. It is half and half, three-quarter & one-quarter. Part of a whole-enough for everyone!

"We want to eat now!"

Let's get started...

I dress it and stretch it. I apply a ladle of sauce, in a quick, circular motion about an inch from the end of the crust (unless you want to go to the edge!). I throw the cheese on. Not that string-like cheese, but 100% mozzarella ground chunk-like white cheese. I cover, but not bury.
Then, the ingredients...

For in this world, we all want something.

The meats go on first. Then the vegetables. Then the grated parm. cheese and spices that I lightly shake over the pie. I loosen the board; this foundation yields its creation in my hands, quickly, but not nervously.

I am in control.

The old, dark, Blogett brick oven door is thrown open. Its dark cavern waiting to surround the pizza with its stifling, strong blast of heat.
Size your mark in the oven, and gunn the creation in, retaining its shape. Not stuck, or oblong, or with bits of cheese all over the oven.
People will be eating this; they should have it all.

I feel His pleasure.

When Ali dances.
When his Airness flies.

In a small, crowded pizza window in the dry, hot heat of Phoenix...

Thy will be done.

Hey! There's one with your name on it! This one's bubbling up to the sky. And yes, this other one's got a gaping...
It all started from a dough that was just raised right. You know what I mean.

Because once you know how, the rest is easy.

I can feel the dough, and its rhythms. Because this dance happens in just a matter of minutes.

At the risk of repeating myself.
One pizza ends-another begins. But never the same way twice!

After a series of opening and closing the door of the oven for tending purposes, a golden brown ring forms on the crust. The pizza simmers, calling to me..
I slide the wooden paddle in, and underneath quickly. It willingly yields itself out, and into the open, hungry pizza box, still simmering. All the ingredients rest anxiously on top of the melted body of cheese.

"Is this cooked enough for you?"

The smiles of anticipation blossom all over the surrounding sea of faces. In the pizza window, everyone sees.
"Is that your pizza?"
"What kind did you get?"
"Is that my pizza?"

It is our pizza, a thing of beauty.
It is over in a long instant. After all, there are many more.

"Thank you very much. Have a good day!"

Bless you loyal customers-you deserve my best.

And I pledge...

The guys in the back room wolfed down their part of pizza. Their enemies ate from the same meal out front. The satisfaction produced those same rush of good feelings!
The President called, "This is the best pizza I've ever tasted! Where do I get the recipe for that delicious sauce?"

I look proudly at the pictures of those who taught me.
I eagerly run to fill your order at the window.
I back-up, and hustle for my partner, who works the window.
I want people to believe me.
All that I have I have given; and I haven't given enough.
It is all of me. Done the right way. The way I was taught.
I have tears of pride in my eyes as I deliver these words to you. On this day, at this hour.

I leave my footprint in this legacy, and go back to work.

It has been a pleasure to serve you!

"There it is!"
The hungry mother takes the hot, new pizza in the box from the window in front of a large audience of kids.

"Let the children eat first," she says.


Hooray for Pizza!!!!!