Italian Inspiration

So I just flew in from Barino's Italian Market in the Bronx, and boy are my arms tired. I spent over thirty dollars on fragile ravioli, the wrong sausage, and other items that would be enhanced by several hours bouncing around on a bicycle, and came home as an inspired Italian chef. Naturally, the first thing I wanted to do was to create a great pizza, so I took the dough I had purchased and abused across one huge park, two subways, and several miles of bicycling through New York.

You doubted me? You thought I couldn't handle the simple task of cutting a ball of dough in half, stretching it out (oh, maybe I should have re-shaped it instead of pulling this half-circle), covering it with toppings (oh, maybe I should have done it on something moveable instead of the counter) and then inserting it into the oven (oh, maybe I should have found an appropriate way to transfer it instead of throwing it with my hands)

Oh well.

It may have been an ugly pizza, but at least it was fun.