When I was about 6 or 7 years old, I tasted pizza for the very first time on a Sunday afternoon like this one. It was one of these made by my mother, and to this day whenever I think of pizza I remember the excitement of my little sister and I as we watched Mom make this for us. After that first pizza, this became a once a month treat that Mom would make us to reward particularly good behavior. It wouldn't be until I was 11 or 12 that I tasted pizzeria pizza and I thought it was never as good as what Mon made from the contents of this funny little yellow box.
In my 30's I visited the Isle of Capri off the Amalfi coast of Italy where for the first time I had the genuine article, a wood fired pizza dressed with olive oil and barely dusted with shaved parmesan cheese. That authentic Italian pizza bore only the slightest resemblance to Mom's first attempt. I remember being quite shocked by its appearance when the waiter brought it to the table. After the first smoky bite, I quickly concluded that Mom and Chef Boyardee's homemade version was far better 😋
"I am always remembering...
and sometimes it's a very pleasant trip down memory lane"
No comments:
Post a Comment
Comments may be moderated and will appear within 12 hours if approved.