If there's one food that seems to embody everything quintissential to American youth it would have to be pizza. Though we undoubtedly stole pizza from Italy originally, it would now appear to be as assimilated into our culture as apple pie and cherry cola.
We love pizza. All my friends cannot have party without it. No late night recording session is complete without it, no pre-movie pit stop is perfect unless we stop and pick up a couple of slices. Pizza is not just a quick, absolutely delicious food, its also a personal statement. Do you want plain cheese? Oh, your boring. Anchovie pineapple mushroom? Freak. Cheeseburger sausage meatball? Remined me not to sit next to you on an airplane. Personally I dig anything veggie loaded without stringy onions. What you want on your pizza is way more then just a preference, its a fashion statement. It can be a total pain in the butt to order multiple pizzas for a big group of people. I would hate to be a order-taker for a pizza joint. "Hello? Yeah, I'll have 25 large pies, one with cheese, three with pepperoni, five with half veggie half mushroom..." You get the idea. Total suckage.
Pizza is such a regional identification as well. The battle between Chicago and New York style pizza is one that continues to rage with passions and fury on both sides. Don't try to cross me in an arguement over the two. New York could kick Chicago's butt anyday. California can keep their no cheese, white truffle oil drizzed monsters, Chi-Town can keep those deep dish, eat-me-with-a-fork things to themselves. Give me a thin, chewy, greasy piece of pizza on a paper plate and I'll be completely happy. In my opinion the best pizza in NYC is not the ubiquitous Ray's but a tiny non-descript joint on 101'st and Broadway called Cheesy Pizza. No subtleties there, just the way I like it. No bull, no frills, nobody but the locals in there and a freaking good peice of pizza. We always go get a slice no matter what the weather is or how hungry we arn't. I dont know what it is about that place, the ambiance is terrible and the linoleum tables are dirty but the pizza is the perfect thickness and has just the right amount of cheese to sauce ratio.
Again I hate to continue to mention Rochesters' failings in the culinary department so instead of being negative I'll mention that we have a comparatively exellent pizza place right downtown. Formerly Pizza-Pizza, now called Piatza's, it has a fair imitation of a true NYC slice. Admittedly its nothing like the original but clocking in at a hefty 14 inches lengthwise it's a feat of cheese and dough. You cannot (should not) order out, but instead stop in and get a massive slice to go, eating it outside folded over with a lot of napkins. Almost perfect.
When we feel up to it, a great way to spend a Saturday is going to the market early in the morning then coming home and making pizza from scratch. I've gotten good at baking a decent Neopolitan style pizza, with a super thin crust and just tomatoes and mozzerella for topping. The last time we made pizza from scratch we had several friends over and they sat in out kitchen while I rushed around covered in flour and slamming oven doors much to my mom's chagrin. They turned out well. Definatly a pizza and definatly a pretty tasty meal. Next time though, I'll have to make waaay more. The pies were nowhere near substiantial enough for six people and we were left still a little peckish afterwards. My bro-face even enjoyed his chorizo pizza, and a hug from him sealed the deal.
A pizza is a pizza is a pizza, but a damn good pizza is different thing entirely. Like a new bag or a favorite pair of jeans, a good slice of pizza is a way to enjoy the things that make us essentially human: nourishment through our collective culture. And obviously something we can over-analyze and analogize too. So long for now.
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