On pizza

Is it just way too easy to write about pizza? I will eat pizza anytime, anywhere, hot or cold, fresh or day-old out of the refrigerator. Pizza has, perhaps, as many incarnations as it has cooks and connoisseurs, with meat, with cheese, with red sauce, with capers or anchovies. I like deep-dish with a thick luxurious crust, but I also like a quick-bake, paper thin cracker crust as well. Is pepperoni the unifying ingredient that links all pizza recipes together? Or is mozzarella the undergirding tune that links all pizza recipes on a universal stage? Some people like their pizza with all sorts of ingredients, including the kitchen sink. Others like their pizza simple with a little sauce, a little cheese, and maybe a hint of basil, uncomplicated. I like my pizza as fresh as possible, so I like to bake my own. Boxed pizza from the supermarket’s frozen food section will do in a pinch, but I’d rather not. For me, the ideal pizza will be deep dish with black olives, sausage, mushrooms, onions, green peppers, pepperoni laid out on a luscious bed of aromatic tomato sauce and covered with a fresh blanket of mozzarella, baked until it is a steaming mass of wonderfulness. Cold beer to accompany.