E’s Adventure

About 10 days ago Mr. Aitch and I were taking care of three of our grandchildren, two dogs and nine chickens while our daughter and her husband were out of town. Friday was pizza night and Mr. Aitch and I decided we would rather get “real” pizza than bake a frozen one.  Mr. Aitch stayed with two of the kids while one of the twins went with me. The following is a storybook written and drawn by the twin who stayed home.


We are going to get pizza.

I’m on the left driving and E is in the backseat.  For future reference I have an “N” above my head and E has an “E” above her head.


Evelyn threw up in Nona’s car.

Yes, I heard the unmistakable sound of, well, that while I was driving.  Not much I could do at that point. Fortunately we were already on our way home.

We went home.

We went home.

E is covered in stomach contents. Notice my sad face.

E-Adventure-1 The end.

Not my favorite but…

…I beginning to like pizza.

Yeah, I’m one of those weird people who does not choose pizza over anything else on the Favorite Foods Menu.

Real pizza isn’t bad actually.  And by “real” I mean not frozen.  Ever.

And we’ve tried just about every brand.  None have ever hit the mark.

Some things should be frozen.  Like ice cream.  Or pound cake.  Or fresh fruit.

Some things should not.  Like green beans (I prefer canned).  Or lettuce.  Or pizza.

Frozen pizza is convenient.  And that’s the only positive thing I can say about it.

My frozen pizza is never bubbly.  It has never, ever looked like the picture on the pizza box.


Pizza box pizza. Mine never looks like this.

The crust is either hard and dry or dry on the outside and soggy in the center and always tasteless.  The sauce is so-so.  The cheese melts but I’m not sure if it is real cheese or some oily cheese wanna be.  The pepperoni and/or other toppings are never evenly distributed and the pepperoni sits in a puddle of oil.  Even when I doctor up the plain pizza, the added toppings sit on the impenetrable surface and don’t melt into the cheese.

I follow the directions on the box to a “T” because I really, really want it to turn out right.  Every frozen pizza manufacturer has their own special cooking directions: a certain oven temperature, the correct rack placement in the oven (upper, middle, lower), the right amount of time, and a recommended surface (directly on the rack, in a pan, never on a stone).  When I manage to eat one piece, I burn the roof of my mouth.  Every. Single. Time.

So when Mr. Aitch suggested I pick up a pizza for dinner one day last week, you can image my enthusiasm.

I had to wait a few minutes so the pizza was right out of the oven and stayed hot for the twelve-minute drive home.  I didn’t even turn on the seat warmer in my car.  The pepperoni, onions, and mushrooms (I like most anything except sausage and anchovies) were evenly distributed over the surface of the pizza and had melted into the cheese.  The crust was thick, soft, chewy and delicious.  I did not burn the roof of my mouth with the first bite.

I ate three pieces. It was so good.  Still not my favorite food but I would eat this again.

Of course when you have “better ingredients”, you end up with “better pizza”.


Not our pizza but just as good as this looks.