I love food, I especially love pizza. Having sampled it all over Canada I considered myself quite an expert. Thick crust, thin crust, deep dish, red sauce and white sauce. I had never met a pizza I didn't get along with, but sorry west coast, ya gotta fix yours. Like sex, a wise man once quipped: pizza even when it's bad, it's OK. It can be the perfect meal and if topped properly, a pizza covers all four food groups. It requires no utensils to eat, just pick up a phone and half an our later "pizza, my old friend, glad to see you"
I didn't think pizza could do wrong, then I went to Italy…
After touring the coliseum in Rome, walking back to our hotel we were aggressively coerced into eating al fresco. My girlfriend ordered pasta while I opted for pizza. While waiting for lunch to arrive we enjoyed some delicious red wine and were entertained by the maitre D`(is that what they’re called in Italy?) and his often successful attempts to wrangle more patrons. After a good while our food arrived.
Our lunches did not look good. My pizza had anchovies and olives on it. As far as I could see five scattered olive and three (rather large) anchovies. The pizza wasn’t even cut. With low expectations I dug in.
Then it went wrong, after a few bites it was over. Pizza COULD be bad. After years of enjoying pizza I realized I had been lied to. This pizza was so good, the standard raised so much. Bad pizza was bad.
Every bite divine. The balanced ratio of bread, sauce, cheese and topping literally made me smile. What had once been great pizza, suddenly seemed ordinary. Mediocre pizza was now inedible garbage.
If you love pizza be warned. One day you might just have good pizza, really good pizza. If this happens, good luck finding that next slice.