The Pie's the Limit

Time to empty out the fridge and make some pizza. 

Kansas and Connecticut.  Sounds like a Final Four match-up.

 These had oysters, spinach, cob-smoked bacon, and basil.

Earlier, I had grilled some vegetables so we wouldn't feel so damn

guilty just eating decadent pizza for dinner.  I'll be picking at this for

days to come.  Monday and maybe Tuesday.  Then it will be gone.

Mommy doesn't care for the fancy toppings, so mushrooms and 

basil are more than sufficient.  A nice tea towel helped to curb the 

heat.  Eventually we'll put it away before it gets too frayed.

By now you've realized that I don't give a damn about the shape

of the pie itself.  I've done extensive research on that subject in

particular, and I can confidently report that the shape has absolutely

nothing to do with how it tastes. 

Liv's pie had chicken-apple sausage and fried red potato slices.

And it was damn good, too.  We love you Hannah, but you had

to get back to school before we had dinner.  We'll do it again.