I remember that pizza was not my favorite food as a kid. It grew on me, though, and now I have to admit it's in my top three food groups, the other two of which are curry and anything cooked over an open flame.
In Girl Scouts we stopped one time for pizza on the way back from one of our badge-earning excursions. From time to time on a Saturday night my family would go out for pizza. Going to restaurants to eat was an occasion of great excitement, since we couldn't afford it often. To this day, when I am in a restaurant I feel a bit numb and like it's unreal. As a teenager, I was on a restricted-sodium diet, which didn't even offer me the luxury of ramen noodles right from the package. Instead I had to use packets of low-sodium bouillon. The chicken-flavored was chartreuse, probably my favorite color, just not in soup. Even now, I'm extra-conscious of sodium. Sadly, pizzas (even the frozen, amazing current supermarket offerings) are often so loaded with salt that I can't stop drinking water for the rest of the evening. But what is more sacred than that first bite of tongue-scorching pizza, with the oil sinking into little pepperoni grooves atop the melted cheese?
