My roommate Geoff and I like pizza. A lot.
If our arteries were sliced open, they'd extrude mozzarella. Although we're vegetarians, we're not exactly paragons of healthful eating. So, of course, we were both game to try an exaggeration of our favorite cuisine: the pizza lover's pizza. (This was G's brainchild. I was just the one who giddily clapped my hands in validation of the idea.)
After months of enjoying regular old pizzas, we finally made a pizza lover's pizza last night. (Fittingly, right before G will embark on a 10-day master cleanse, which I bet him a bag of peanut butter M&Ms that he couldn't make it 10 days.) I say "made" but really it was heating up a DiJourno cheese pizza and heating up some Totino's pizza rolls. Then smooshing said rolls into the cheesy goodness of the pizza. Voila: pizza lover's pizza.
I'd be lying if I said there wasn't tension in the air—anticipation, dread...hunger. Tension that could only be abated with a roll of the pizza cutter, blessed of all kitchen utensils.
With one bite (each), it was over. We deflated the mystery, and we can't say it was delicious.
DiJourno pizza is divine in it's own right, when you're craving an overprocessed—but earnest—pizza. And Totino's pizza rolls are divine in their own right, when it's 3 a.m. at the gas station and you're so drunk and hungry and there's nothing else. It just tasted blasphemous to combine these two entities for our personal amusement.
Defeated, we plucked the pizza rolls off the pizza and ate each separately, as God would have wanted.