I have rambled a lot about how much I hate social media. Well, I thought, damn, maybe I should ramble about something a bit uplifting, ya know?
And then I had nothing to write about.
Then, it dawned on me. I should write about pizza.
Three weeks later, and I still haven’t written a damn word about pizza…UNTIL NOW! Nothing is going to stop me! I’m challenging myself to WRITE without stopping, to let the memories fly out of my head and right onto this glowing computer screen that keeps me awake at night…Fucking addictive technology! Anyway, here it goes! Here it goes1
by Julie elderly millenial LastName (you think I’m tellin’ you my last name?! That puts my high flying career in jeopardy if my blog is ever discovered.)
I’ve eaten pizza in Italy. It was thin crust, not too much sauce, not too much cheese, really fresh, nice basil, and paired with great wine.
I’ve eaten pizza at the supposedly best pizza shop in the North end of Boston. It was nice. I accidentally walked out without the pizza leftovers. that was over 10 years ago, and I hope someday I can forgive myself.
And I’ve made pizza. From scratch. The crust was way too thick. i didn’t roll the dough enough.
Of all these pizza memories, which is my favorite? Which makes me happiest? Which stands out the most in my weathered old noggin?
NONE OF THE ABOVE. My favorite pizza memory involves an extremely below average pizza place that I’m not sure even exists anymore. Little Caesar’s.
This pizza place is forever associated with my childhood. I partly blame their clever advertisement team (PIZZA PIZZA!) for lodging their damn slogan in my head. FOREVER. I am in my 30s. I havent stepped foot in a Little Caesars in 25 damn years. Hell, I am not sure I’ve even been within 30 miles of one. I’ve probably been a couple thousand miles above of a Little Caesars since the 90s. I’ve been in airplanes ‘n all. But i have not ordered, pretended to order, thought about ordering, or asked someone to order, a little C pizza since the first Clinton administration.
Little Caesar’s sticks in my weathered brain because of nostalgia. Fun memories. My dad would take me to pick up a sub par little caesar’s pepperoni pizza, and we’d go to Blockbuster and rent movies. It was the best time EVER. Nothing has compared. NOTHING! Not that fancy pizza in Rome, not that insanely thick pizza I made in 2009 when I was trying to be a chef, not the pizza in Boston’s North End.
Little Caesar’s crapo pizza is the best of all time.