THE PIZZA QUEEN

I happened to marry royalty! Yes, I married the Queen of Pizza Eating. She reigns every Friday night at home in our den, working her way through slices of pizza, and for 35 years it has been the custom.

It really doesn’t matter what kind of diet is currently vogue, what kind of dietary restrictions she may impose upon herself, on Friday its pizza. I myself may have started the trend since it was customary when I was growing up, but then again it may have been the Little Woman who started it when we married. We grew up where Friday was a meatless day, so a cheese pizza was the order of the day.

We have in the last few years devoted ourselves to a certain style of pizza called the grandma pie. It happened quite by accident one Friday night. We ordered a pizza, and asked for a delivery. The pizza came in a square box instead of the elongated rectangular shape we were used to. I accepted delivery and though it strange that the shape of the box was different. I paid the delivery guy and brought the pizza inside and opened it. It was the grandma pie, a square pie made with plum tomatoes, fresh garlic and basil. It is the best pie in the Albert’s pie arsenal. You cannot get, and I repeat cannot, get this made anywhere else like Albert’s makes it.

At first I was angry that they made the mistake, but decided to eat it anyway. I took one bite out of it, and the delivery guy knocks on my door, just as I am savoring this beautiful creation and thinking: “wow, this is good!” Too late for the deliveryman, so he gives us free of charge the pizza we did order too! I hope there is a place in heaven for him.

The Little Woman’s dedication to pizza is not the cheese, not the sauce, not the freshness of the dough, but the fact that she doesn’t have to cook or do dishes.

As I write this I am expecting her Highness, the Queen of Pizza any moment now, since it is Friday evening and she is picking up the pie. But she is not alone in her adoration of the pizza.

My dog Happy is devoted too. Whenever the pie is delivered, Happy runs to the door and barks up a storm at the deliveryman, when he leaves, she does a 180 and heads to the pizza, and sits on her haunches as she waits for one of us to toss her the crusts. I really think that my Dad has come back as Happy the dog. Happy like my Dad loves lettuce as well as pizza.

So as I am about to sit and imbibe upon this culinary delight let us
“ ALL HAIL THE QUEEN OF PIZZA-LONG LIVE THE QUEEN AND LONG LIVE PIZZA!

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