The most memorable pizza I have ever eaten was in late September of 2013. Alison and I were sitting at the edge of a rock, overlooking the sea under a blanket of stars; I remember it being comfortably warm and quiet, save for the soft, gentle crashes of waves below our feet. We had just finished a long day of hiking and exploring along the trails that connect between the villages and Manarola and Riomaggiore; we were in the middle stretch of our 3-weeks honeymoon in Italy and enjoying this wood-fired artisan pizza, in this spot, after that hike, and at this point in our lives was the only thing that mattered to either of us. We sat down, gazed up at the stillness of night for a moment, uncorked the bottle of wine we obviously had packed along, toasted our love, then opened the box and took our first bites. We looked at each other. Paused. Then spat out what was agreeably the worst pizza either of us has ever eaten to that day, and since.
I’m not entirely sure how one goes about creating such an offence towards the pallet, and while this created a memory we won’t soon forget, I vowed then and there that, if ever given the chance to cook pizza for others, I’d never allow myself to serve up anything even close to what had been oppressed upon us on that otherwise perfect occasion.
To be completely honest, the two of us actually cherish moments like these because they tend to stay with you in ways that other experiences don’t. Had the pizza been perfect, I don’t know that I’d have hung on to all of the details the way that I have; knowing that I can close my eyes now and still see the shape of the night sky so many years later is likely in large part because of the trauma induced upon us. We pride ourselves in making the most of the situations we find ourselves in. It’s funny how food and memory are so connected, at least for me, anyway. It seems to me that I can recall more experiences tied to food and dining than just about any other. Eating fresh snake by the river in Dujiangyan. The tasting menu bachelor party at Canoe. The dumplings at Hillside. Beans over the fire while we were camping at Earl Rowe as a kid. So many different experiences come to mind when I think of food. Of course, tied directly to that are the people I got to enjoy the experience with. Whether it was my incredible partner in life, my brother, my best friends, strangers just looking to share a table, or my mom or my dad, each meal that comes to mind is in large part made memorable because of the people I got to share it with; either though amazement, laughter, exploration, or, yes, even disgust. People, food and memories. These things are gifts that one possibly couldn’t put a price to. This combination of factors is how I am hoping to continue the bond with my girls, long into their lives; it is my hopeful way of staying connected.
Cooking, baking, time in the kitchen, is time spent bringing me joy. The preparation behind a meal can be some of the most creative time I spend throughout my day, and pizza happens to highlight that creativity perhaps more than any other meal. Yes, pasta comes in many shapes and sauces, tacos can hold just about anything, and you can mix all kinds of ingredients into a salad, but pizza is one where everyone gets to share in the experience and paint their own canvas. Roasted broccoli and feta, caramelized onions, smoked bacon and crack an egg in middle, pear, brie and honey, prosciutto and basil, barbecue sauce, béchamel sauce, olive oil, pesto, their is really no end to how you could build up your own unique combination, and enjoy it for breakfast, lunch or dinner!
I envision a summer ahead where backyard get togethers, parties and playdates have been elevated and kicked up to a degree that clearly even a village on the coast of the Ligurian sea couldn’t match. I see friends gathered to share space and cocktails as they put together their own creations, fire them into the oven and regale one another as they feast under the stars. I can picture the time I’ll spend with my kids kneading dough, grating cheeses, and picking fresh basil from the garden – ahhhhh. And we won’t limit ourselves to just pizza, either – cinnamon buns, roasted chicken, naan bread, that sourdough discard no longer needs to go to waste, the sky’s the limit!
Ok, that’s a lot to ask for out of a pizza oven – the point is: we’re not just making pizzas, we’re making memories.
….and that is how you justify spending investing in a new toy.
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