Looks yummy, doesn’t it? Well, it was – and even more so because I had no part in the making of this pizza, other than grilling the chicken and being at the grocery store while the other ingredients were purchased. Sure, there’s a certain satisfaction that comes from making your own meals; but the only thing better is when someone makes it for you.
Believe me, the hype around this dish had been building up for months as my boyfriend kept telling me about his specialty margherita pizza. Finally, last Sunday – appropriately, after we saw “30 Minutes Less” about a pizza delivery guy who gets kidnapped, strapped to a bomb and forced to rob a bank (true story, although the real thing wasn’t as funny as Danny McBride and Nick Swardson in monkey suits) – we decided to make our own. Pizza, that is, not a plot to rob a bank.
I was feeling guilty for being away from my book writing for the duration of the movie, so he took over in the kitchen while I got back to work on the laptop. He even stirred up the cupcakes I ambitiously agreed to bring into work for birthdays the next day – but he told me not to tell anyone that because he wants to maintain his reputation as a cook, not a baker.
As long as he keeps making me pizzas, he can call himself whatever he wants.
