Ok, ok, before you point your flashlight beam in my face, I’ll admit it – I served my family store-bought pizza on Friday night. But it wasn’t frozen, I swear!
Please…let me explain.
Given the forecast of heavy snow, and one hefty “to-do” that would result in six loaves of homemade bread, the last thing I wanted to do was plan dinner.
As the first snowflakes started to fall, I jotted a grocery list: milk, eggs, bread, two pizzas (one cheese, one sausage) and handed it to my husband/cabana boy who was hoping for a shortened workday due to the impending white stuff.
When my work day was done, I descended to the kitchen and began mixing yeast, honey and oil with 10 cups of flour. With the help of son # 3, we dutifully kneaded the dough into submission, covered it with towels and left it to rise for an hour and a half.
Meanwhile, the rest of the crew wanted some grub. With my fingers plastered in yeasty goo, I slid two rather large, again – fresh, not frozen, pizzas into the oven. By the time my fingers were clean, they were ready to serve.
And I’m not going to be beat myself up about this.
When I was a kid, Friday nights were pizza night. My Dad would place the order – two large sausage pizzas – from Andy’s, a storefront establishment that only served crispy thin crust, delicious pizzas. We’d watch for the delivery guy to show up in his battered station wagon, arguing over who would get the corner pieces. It was also the one night we were allowed to have pop.
To this day, a sip of Fresca has me lunging for the phone with the pizza delivery guy’s number on speed dial.
With my husband and oldest at-home son at a college orientation, my next youngest two at a church retreat and my youngest on a play day, I capped off the week with a fragmented, served in seated shifts, dinner of leftover beef stroganoff and vegetarian chili. To make up for the mediocrity of the meal, I served a favorite, albeit out-of-season, dessert: Colonial Pumpkin Bars.
Today, it’s all about menu-planning for the week. If I still have my wits about me, I’ll share it with you later. I swear…
2 thoughts on ““But Officer, They Weren’t Frozen Pizzas!””
You really wouldn’t have to feel about about Friday night being frozen pizza night either. I mean there are a ton of awesome frozen pizzas out there. Trust me my goal is to try them all!
Eric, you’re absolutely right. Many frozen pizza offerings are a far cry from the earlier versions that were about as tasty as cardboard. Good luck in your quest! If you come across any that not only taste great, but have the power to alleviate the guilt I’d feel over not actually cooking dinner, please let me know. ; )Thanks for writing (and reading)!