The group of desks I sit at can sometimes get heated. When you have a Frenchman, a Northlander, a Chicagoan, a Chinese Kiwi, a Hamiltonian and a Westie all within arguing distance there can be some pretty steep opinion gradients. But we found one thing we can agree on. Paul mentioned his native city Chicago’s signature food, deep dish pizza, and after initially asking if he was sure it wasn’t deep fried, we did some googling and our eyes glazed over.
Can you put that much cheese on a pizza? There didn’t seem to be any reason why not but yet it still seemed somehow illegal. Or at least nutritionally irresponsible. And the ratio’s seemed all off. Instead of a bubbly, crispy base, a smearing of tomato sauce and some sparse toppings that seem to be the hallmark of good pizza to all our knowledge, this pizza seemed to be designed for someone who preferred the stuff that sticks to the top of the box rather than the actual pizza.
Well, as luck would have it Jed, the Northlander, had been experimenting with fresh mozzarella, I had been honing my pizza dough skills and Paul’s partner Allison had the sauce recipe “just like momma used to make.” Seems like the powers that be wanted us to take a break from collaborating on refrigeration systems and make this beautiful monstrosity. And we could all agree, it was terrific.