pizza timea good pizza is a thing of beauty.

turns out, not that hard to make either, even if you only have a convection oven/microwave.

the trick? as far as i’m concerned, a good store-bought crust. essential, when you have a convection oven/microwave.

for those of you privileged enough to have a real oven, let me explain. in my pseudo-oven, frozen pizzas do not cook properly. in my former incarnation as the anti-cook, that was pizza (delivery is too expensive and too chancy). you go out, you buy a di giorno’s or an amy’s (if you’re feeling expensive and not too hungry) or a tony’s (if you’re feeling cheap), and you throw it in the oven for ten or twelve or fifteen minutes and then you eat it.

not so, with the convection oven/microwave. a frozen pizza, no matter what the crust thickness or the brand name is, invariably comes out overcooked on the top and soggy on the bottom. why? you got me. something to do with the way the heat circulates is my guess.

so what’s a gal to do? when there’s no good delivery to be had outside of new york city, but you can’t buy frozen?


WELL! i got a boboli (surprisingly good, i haven’t had one in many many years) and got

1 small can black olives
1 green pepper
1 bell pepper
1 jar Roasted Garlic Ragu Spaghetti Sauce
1 package shredded Parmesan Cheese
1 package shredded Mozzerella Cheese

and cooked one of a standby in our apartment, Boca Bratwursts (you could also use their Italian Sausage). i layered however much of each of the above however i wanted them to go (i finished with the sausage and started with sauce, but it’s fun to mix it up in between!), put it in the oven/microwave, hit Bake, and crossed my fingers.

mmmm, pizzaand voila! the miracle of pizza you see above. just in case you’ve forgotten how glorious it was, here’s another shot.

you’re shaking your head, i know it. you’re saying, that doesn’t look all that exciting. well let me tell you — we liked the taste so much that it didn’t last long enough for me to get a picture of the full pie. and H and i were both independently asked, when we whipped out our lunches yesterday at our respective places of work, “where” we had gone to get the pizza. imagine the shock when told it came from home!

it’s always nice to be appreciated.

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