Day 60: Order an impossible pizza.

I didn’t want to order an impossible pizza, because that’s really just making a stupid prank call – and the toppings the Book suggests (bananas, peas, Cheerios, and roast duck among them) give one the impression that this isn’t a “serious” day – not that any of the days are really that serious, but some are more practicable than others.

I didn’t want this to be a forgettable day – I wanted it to be awesome. I’ve been planning for it for weeks, as a matter of fact. The impossible pizza was a challenge, a thing that had to be conquered just because it’s there. I’m sure that somewhere – Portland, maybe? – there are pizzerias that would make the sort of bizarre pizza this day calls for, but I’d be willing to bet they wouldn’t deliver to north Texas. We had to take matters into our own hands.

So Lorna and I made an impossible pizza.

Yeah. IMPOSSIBLE FUCKING PIZZA. Look on our works, ye mighty, and despair.

Because Lorna’s the cook in the house, she did a lot of the work (and I, as per usual, did the dishes). The crust is a Bob’s Red Mill gluten-free pizza dough mix, fortified with sweet rice flour, buckwheat flour, and flax meal. There’s a homemade sun-dried tomato pesto (with walnuts, basil, parmesan, olive oil, a serrano pepper), there’s four kinds of cheese (romano, parmesan, mozzarella, and gorgonzola), there’s bacon, basil, arugula, blackberries, and tilapia marinated in the juice of a Meyer lemon. There are some chives in there somewhere, too.

We spent a good chunk of the morning making the pizza, and ate it for lunch (I have a late class on Tuesdays, so we don’t get to eat dinner together). It was incredible, the best pizza I’ve ever eaten. The crust was perfect, the pesto was just spicy enough, the toppings were in perfect harmony with one another. It lacked nothing. The clouds parted, the sun shone brightly, choirs of angels sang in the kitchen – miraculous things happened while we ate this pizza. When God eats pizza, this is the pizza he eats.

Everything I eat for the rest of my life is going to taste like ashes in my mouth, but it was worth it.


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