People Who Don't Like Pizza Are People Too
At some point in our country's history, it became socially frowned upon not to like pizza. Cheese pizza is the new apple pie. If someone doesn't like spinach or some other fibrous vegetable, people understand. No one questions children probing it on their plates. But if you don't like pizza, you're met with suspicious glares as if you suddenly announced to your friends and family that you're actually a Russian spy.
Jess Swanson I took this photo. I know it looks delicious, but instead of eating it, I told the owner I was too full.
This is not something I tell a lot of people because of the aforementioned looks. Also, as a food blogger, I have a street cred I need to keep up. But I'm an enigma: I was born in America, socialized through the public school system, and yet I still do not like pizza.
I am not a freak. The taste buds want what the taste buds want.
Gastronomically scarred early on, my father would feed me what he liked to call "pizza" whenever my mother wasn't around. It was a toasted white bread slathered in pasta sauce with one slice of too-yellow American cheese melted on top. And then in elementary school, a square slab of crustless pizza was lifelessly thrown onto my styrofoam tray every Pizza Friday. Every other 8-year-old loved Pizza Friday -- it was a nice break from freezer-burned mystery meat nuggets -- but for me, it was too reminiscent of my father's so-called pizza with the shredded mozzarella microwaved on top and dripping in that unknown red goo.
The pizzas at birthday parties and sleepovers were significantly better, or at least I thought so, because they were ordered from chains like Pizza Hut and Papa John's and the cheese didn't look as microwaved on. But it was actually worse; chain delivery pizzas are almost always scarred with browned burnt cheese, giving it a chewy and tough consistency like a $5 steak.
And then there are the pizza bubbles. Most people don't look before they bite and chew right into them and don't acknowledge that they're actually chewing into the constipated farts of the pizza. It might be my neurotic attention to detail, but these innocuous bubbles definitely release a pocket of air trapped between the crust and the cheese as soon as you pop it.