Move over, Dominos...

I've never been accused of being a great cook.

I come from a looooong line of food burners.

It is a long held tradition at my family's Thanksgiving dinners that we (the women in the kitchen) "flambe'" the marshmallow topped sweet potatoes not once, not twice, but three times before we get it right.

The secret of our success is to never, under any circumstances, use a timer.

We like to think that the smoke pouring out of the oven and the fire alarm ringing in the background brings an element of danger and excitement to a meal that is otherwise satisfying, yet somehow...dull.

Don't you think so too?

Speaking of food and family, I always get the urge to cook...um, burn stuff, when I get home to Idaho.

One night while the urge was strong, I wandered to the freezer which holds the remains of our 4-H pig, Winston (rest in peace, Winston) and guess what I found?

Sausage!

Which made me think of pizza.

Which reminded me that we had flatbread. And pesto. And olives. And peppers. And onions. And feta. And mushrooms. And artichokes. And provolone.

(heavenly choir singing here)

THE  MAKINGS OF A PERFECT PIZZA.

(Don't you just love how olives shine?)

Simple ingredients that just hang out in the refrigerator and pantry, waiting to be whipped into a
 culinary masterpiece.
 Okay, you can stop laughing now, Eric.

I must say...

It was delicious...

And easy...

And I only burned 2 of them before it came out perfect.