The tulip-man and I have instated a very important tradition since I moved here to Holland, that of Pizza Friday. It’s a magical day really. From the moment we wake up there’s a layer of excitement, which continues throughout the day as we call each other to discuss the very important details of the pizza to be made that evening. And when it comes time to assemble the pizzas, it’s every man for himself. While the tulip-man carefully crafts a well-contemplated masterpiece, I tend to throw everything on mine, cheese-it, and call it a day. But last week was different. I made the dough and crafted up two beautiful red pesto pizzas so we could eat as soon as he got home from work. Such a lucky boy, that one! So he gets home, I preheat the oven to ultra hot, we start getting excited for pizzas. Flashback a few days. I exploded some butter in our microwave (which, in true small house European form, is also our oven), and that butter managed to work its way up into the heating elements of the oven. So when I turned on the oven on Friday, POOF! Smoke everywhere, flames shooting from the top of the oven, smoke detector screaming. The next hour was spent with me fanning the smoke detector with a pillow and the tulip-man working in rounds to burn all the butter from the oven. Needless to say, our pizzas were quite smokey, but delicious nonetheless. So I was a bit nervous for this pizza today, but all went according to plan. And between this and my near finger fatality, any kind of cooking normalcy is worthy of celebration. But guess what else we’re celebrating? This week marked 1000 happy eaters on the Facebook page! Pizza! Facebook! Having all my fingers! So much to be excited for! And what better way to celebrate than with boozy Brussel sprout pizza?
