Pepperoni and pineapple with chopped red onions
Girlfriend’s side: pineapples, onions, sliced buffalo mozzarella, no pepperonis
Last night’s pizza was just alright. I used store-bought, defrosted pizza dough and I rolled it out too far in advance of the oven heating up. This made the crust a little chewy and a tad bland. I also just used the leftover canned sauce we had in the fridge. I’ll usually liven that up with some Italian Seasoning blend, garlic powder, crushed red peppers, and/or oregano, but I was feeling kind of lazy.
We’d just come home from a lackluster food festival and I was craving a decent pie. This was better than takeout, but not up to our usual standards.
I’m currently reading Elements of Pizza by Ken Forkish (which is a great food-writing name), so it has made me hyper-critical of our pizza operations here at The Disco.
I’m planning to dive into making my own dough and sauce this week, so check back for that.
I’m a prolific blog-starter, not so much a prolific blog-writer. I realized the other day that I’d neglected writing for a while, specifically all non-journal writing but especially blog-writing. I was caught in a pendulum between having nothing to say and not being able to condense what I wanted to say into coherent thought.
So I hit the reset button.
All of the old posts are gone, and frankly that’s probably a good thing. I don’t know that the world needed any more dime-store philosophy or high school poetry. Like a lot of first (and second) drafts, I tossed all the old stuff in the virtual trash bin. I want to commit to something that doesn’t have the baggage of what came before; a blogula rasa.
This will be short-form. Most posts will be under 500 words. A welcome change for me from the whiskey-fueled epics that gave this blog its name, and hopefully a welcome change for you – the slacker trying to get through it at all at work. It will also be more focused (I hope); less diatribes about the futility of existence and more about fun shit like beer and pizza and punching stuff.
At least that’s the plan. We’ll see what the whiskey says…