I live in one of the best pizza towns in America. I even have a piece of sourdough starter that came from the pizza joint where Bourdain ate when he came to Portland that one time. I probably sound like some kind of pizza expert already, right? Listen, I need you to remember the Great Truth: there’s no such thing as bad pizza.
When I was a kid, “pizza night” meant one thing, and that was Totino’s Party Pizza. To even the most culinarily xenophobic members of my family, the uncomplicated joy of Party Pizza was irrefutable. Party Pizza wasn’t going to push anyone out of their meat and potatoes safe-foods zone, and it wasn’t really something they could deride as “ethnic.” Of the many nuggets of wisdom passed down…
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Kitchen Table (Digital) - 1 Issue, Issue 6