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No Place Like Home

“We carry our homes within us, which enables us to fly.” John Cage

As the 4th of July weekend approached I was feeling restless, my brain held hostage by an exhausting work-week and an ever-broadening list of “daddy duties”.  I was bored with Madison. I wanted to run, to get free, to feel like a kid.  I wanted summer fun; a glistening sun, a pine-laden horizon, friends, fireworks and some great pizza (that’s a given).

I wanted that sense of freedom that arises when you get out into the country or dunk yourself into greenish-blue Wisconsin lake water; resurfacing with a rush—a swirl of adolescent giddiness.  That feeling of leaning back and looking into a vibrant blue sky blotted with fluffy, pillow-like clouds; your day-to-day tensions melting away like sidewalk chalk in the rain.

Most of all I wanted the excitement of seeing my favorite people and eating my favorite pizza. The question is then, where can I capture all these classic 4th of July feels in the same spot?

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Going home. 

Tess and I got a sitter for Ellis (Thanks Mom!) and ventured back to our old stomping grounds Whitewater WI. for the 4th of July, with our eye out for everything I’d been daydreaming of, especially my crème de la crème of Wisconsin pizza: Gus’ Pizza Palace.

If you know me or have read any of my stuff you may realize that Gus’ is not just any old pizza to me; it’s the best pizza, my favorite pizza. The all-time greatest pizza. It’s the rule—the measure—the standard by which I judge all pizza.

For the longest time, I was nervous to even write about Gus’ because it’s so special to me, I was worried about whether or not I would be able to do it justice. Or, worse yet, what if it had changed in some way.  I’ve only had the chance to eat it a handful of times since moving, but I figured I’d try to let the legend shine.

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Confession: I went to Gus’ twice in one day.

If you grew up in Whitewater, you undoubtedly know the passion and loyalty that the locals share for their Gus’ pizza.  It’s the gold standard for small-town, thin crust, cheesy pizza, sliced up in squares since 1962.  That’s right, it’s a legacy, it’s been whipped up by the same family using top-secret family recipes for 56 years (way to go guys!).

For Whitewater folk, it’s lovingly known as “Greasy Gus'”. 

Though they keep their formulas confidential, my conspiracy theory has it that the legendary grease factor is due to them using slices of mozzarella instead of shredded like most pizza places.  When the cheese melts in their old-school deck-ovens, the grease collects on top of the slices and creates this delicious blend of grease, melty cheese, and sauce.  I’ve had no other pizza that accomplishes this unique consistency. It’s bliss.

The crust is super thin—cracker thin and has a hand pinched rim that is efficient in holding an excessive, greasy pool of cheese.  The crust is like a little floury canyon. (Ahh, writing this makes me want to dive right in).

unnamedSimplicity and home go hand-in-hand for me.  With my Gus’ I follow suit; I want the pizza in it’s most pristine form: cheese. I’m a sucker for good quality cheese pizza.  I want to bask in the harmony of the cheese, sauce, and crust; let them join together and do a  sacred dance.  If a pizza place can’t get plain cheese right, then I see no future.

Tess often goes for green olives or we’ll share a pizza with gyro meat on it with a side of tzatziki sauce (their gyros are bomb by the way, meat carved from the spit and all).  I’ve heard rave reviews of topping combinations all over the map; from black olives and feta (put on after it’s cooked), to bacon and onion, to onion, green pepper, extra sauce, extra cheese, the infamous Gus’ Special and as I previously mentioned my friend who will give his right arm for beef, bacon, sausage.  I’ve even heard the old-timers talk about the joy of shrimp on their Gus’.

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Gus’s in recent years also got into the cheese-sticks biz to stay competitive in the college market and their sticks are holy wow, topped with at least a quarter inch of mozzarella, definitely among my top 3 three cheese-sticks (that’s a whole separate blog post).  Also, I just gotta say potato wedges, do it.

 

My 4th of July fuzzies wouldn’t be complete without Gus’. 

Just like home, Gus’ is one place that seems to be a constant in a world that’s always changing; it’s one thing all my old friends and family still share in common. For almost 60 years they’ve stuck to their guns and for the most part, the product goes unscathed (though I always remembered more cheese, my grandma agrees).

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Cheese-sticks

In my glory days, I remember the goal for my friends and I on the 4th was to throw the biggest party we could, now it’s scrounging for babysitters and exchanging parenting tips (did you try this new swaddle!?).  That’s what makes life exciting, it’s constantly evolving as we are.

Phil Knight the founder of Nike says in his biography “Life is growth. Business is growth, You grow or you die.”  Whether it’s new additions to our families or nuances to our holiday traditions; we get reminders every day that everything changes, yet there is a resemblance, a fragment of the past that we can cherish.  That’s Gus’ for me.

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Potato Wedges.

What pizza taught me:

Simply going home can be all the negotiation our nagging mind needs in order to chill itself out.  It’s been six years since I left Whitewater and everything feels different but familiar at the same time. There will always be a part of me that finds comfort in going home and Gus’ is a piece of that history.  I hope everybody has a place like that.

What I’m eating: Gus’ cheese pizza, gyro meat pizza with side of tzatziki, cheese-sticks, wedges

What I’m reading:  Shoe Dog: A Memoir by the Creator of Nike –Phil Knight

 

 

 

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To Find Excellent Pizza, Accept Pizza.

“Good luck is nothing but preparedness and opportunity coming together” -Deepak Chopra

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Navigating through life and finding a new favorite pizza place can share the same anxieties, lessons and triumphs.  I uncovered this several years ago after I relocated to Madison, Wisconsin for work and found myself equal parts excited and overwhelmed. I had the stress of a new job, new living arrangements and the biggest challenge of all; discovering which pizza place would become “my new pizza place”?

Pizza compels me.

I should start out by explaining that I absolutely love pizza, more than most things. Everyone knows I have a serious passion for pizza, my friends tease me about it, my co-workers regularly inquire about it, my wife’s embarrassed by it, and my parents seem confused over it.  I crave it all the time and every week build anticipation for my next pizza adventure. So, this whole idea may seam trivial, but pizza, in my opinion is one of life’s finest pleasures.

Gus’ Pizza in Whitewater, Wisconsin is my all-time favorite pizza.  It’s very thin, cut in squares and really cheesy.  In my opinion close to the perfect pizza composition.

Off to my new home.

As I set off for Madison I had nerves about adapting to a new home, it was my first time moving away from the small town I grew up in.  I had traveled a bit and I knew I would adjust and probably come to love it, but at the end of the day I also wanted a good piece of pizza.

Though I had many things on the table, I would commonly find myself asking “How was anything around here going to compete with Gus’ pizza?”  “Who’s going to have a little hand pinched crust like them?” “What place would deliver that borderline excessive amount of cheese?”

Gus’ and their cracker thin crust had transformed into the security of back home, it was a warm a quilt of high quality mozzarella snuggling me in, delicate hints of basil assuring me I’d be ok.  Worse than that, Gus’ had become the metric by which I was judging all other pizza.

I had put Gus’ pizza on a pedestal.

What I was really asking is “How can a new pizza restaurant compete with the idea of Gus’ pizza” I’ve created in my mind?”

In my first few weeks in Madison, what do you know?  I tried too hard to replicate that cheesy cracker thin-crust I missed from Gus’ back home.  Often, I would force a solution: I would order thin-crust pizza from a notorious deep-dish pizza place, then walk away in disappointment because it didn’t live up to expectations.  I would order chain pizza with extra cheese to mimic the “hole in the wall” pizza I craved so much.  I was forcing outcomes into square “tavern style party cuts”.

Then I learned to let go.

I’m an avid reader, especially into mindfulness, behavioral psychology, personal development, leadership etc.  Through my extra curricular learning, I found how to enjoy myself and enjoy pizza even more.

I discovered how to take delight in an experience and let it soak in, the new pizza along the way was a perk. I started reaching out of my comfort zone and trying new varieties of pizza and savoring every bit of the uniqueness they brought.   Along the way I found new favorites and created fond memories.  And of course I found new favorite spots.

What pizza taught me:

When I attached to a specific result in my pizza quests I set myself up for disappointment.  The pictures I created in my mind of how I wanted situations to play out, created unrealistic expectations and often left me feeling like things didn’t go my way.  By opening up my mind to alternative options and to the infinite ways life can go, I felt the real joy of living.  I was free to ebb and flow with the world and let opportunities present themselves.

We should all invite change and different experiences and enjoy them for what they are. I have to force myself to do this everyday, but the results are worth it.  You will be able to seize unforeseen opportunities because you won’t be set on one specific outcome. Know what you want, detach from the result, enjoy the moment and just be; you will find what you’re looking for.

  • What I’m eating: Rosati’s, Madison West, super thin crust (yes, that’s an option) extra cheese, pepperoni.
  • What I’m reading: “The Happiness Hypothesis”-Jonathan Haidt

My Midsummer Night’s Dream Come True

“The earth has music for those who listen.” -William Shakespeare

It’s been a hot minute since me and the missus got out for a date night—let alone one that involves trying some new pizza.  But, last weekend we stumbled across the perfect pizza-indulging summer get-away in the funky little town of Spring Green, WI (and it happens to be great for social distancing).

The White School Collective Pizza Party.

Every Friday from May to September a refurbished old schoolhouse that operates as an event space for weddings and birthdays serves up wood-fired pizzas.  With only the presence of a Facebook page, you have to tune in every Thursday to see what’s on the menu.

If you’re into their offerings you’ve got until 5pm Friday to submit your order. Then simply take the scenic drive to Spring Green, show up at your designated time slot and your wood-fired pie awaits.

If you like it fresh, piping hot, and melty you can enjoy it right in their spacious backyard garden. And, let me tell you, at a picnic table back there you’ll soak up the summer vibes like a koozie soaks up the sweat beads of a frosty beverage on a hot day.

The pizza is as rustic as the hilly, rural Wisconsin terrain you have to travel through to get to it.  The pizza’s come out misshapen and flour-laden and remind you you’re in the country.

The menu varies from week to week but typically features three “specialty” options, like lamb gyro pizza, buffalo cauliflower pizza, or last week’s “sweet corn with bell peppers, tomatoes, garlic scapes, and a white cheese sauce”.  If you want it simple they always have “the regulars”: A four-cheese blend, a pepperoni, and a Margherita. 

In typical Tess and Tyler fashion, we couldn’t just try “one” pizza, we had to get a lay of the land.  So, we started out by sampling a four-cheese and a pepperoni to measure their core competencies.  The pepperoni stole the show for me, bless them, they stuck those pepperoni under the cheese and I love that.

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The “special pizza” that sung to us that night was the Southwestern; it came with “chicken breast and pineapple salsa, on a black bean puree with spicy pepper cheese.”  The sweet, spicy, and savory combo was a nice addition to our mini-vacation mood.

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Getting out of the house to White School Collective was a ray of sunshine thru a cloudy couple of months COVID.

While lately, it’s a little harder to capture all the traditional summer fun we’ve been yearning for, I’m thanking my lucky stars that backyard pizza and laughs with my love has remained pandemic proof.

What I’m eating: White School Collective, cheese pizza, pepperoni pizza, and “southwestern” with chicken, pineapple salsa, black bean puree, and spicy pepper cheese.

What I’m reading:  Cracking the Sales Management Code: The Secrets to Measuring and Managing Sales Performance -Jason Jordan and Michelle Vazzana

 

 

The Long Arm of Luigi’s

“Go as far as you can see and you will see farther.” -Zig Ziglar

I want everyone to have their pizza and get it delivered too.  When I grew up in the small community of Whitewater, WI that dream was a reality.  Whether you lived miles into the countryside around Whitewater Lake or on the college campus, you could get your pepperoni delivered to the front door.

Back then, there were no strict delivery zones, it was the norm for pizzas to be driven far beyond city limits to rural areas; Gus’s Pizza Palace would extend their reach almost to Delavan (17 miles!).

So, I’ll always have a deep respect for massive delivery zones.

Now, in Madison, a west side joint is stepping up their game with a massive delivery radius.  “Luigi’s” the Food Fight’s Restaurant Group’s upscale pizzeria concept is leading a trend that can benefit the entire pizza delivery biz.

Their current policy says they’ll deliver just about anywhere, you just have to pay up for it.

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They’ve created a tier pricing structure comprised of three “zones” that encompass the majority of Madison.   They also offer a wink on their website that they will consider traveling anywhere within city limits.

They’re headquarters is smack dabb in the center of the first section (see the above photo).  If you live within that 1st zone you pay a typical delivery fee.  As you branch out further into the surrounding zones, that’s when you’ll have to start paying a higher delivery price. So, basically the further you are, the more you fork out.

As a Dad with a newborn and a rambuntious two-year-old on the far westside I’m grateful to know this convenience exists.

Luigi’s delivery concept is as forward thinking as their eclectic pizza line up. 

While it’s quite possible to find a pizza place that can drive a pepperoni to your house, it’s rare to get a pie dressed with brussel sprouts, bacon, and balsamic drizzle or goat cheese, caramelized onion, fig jam, and arugula.

I can only hope this innovative new delivery range equation gets adopted by many more. In these fragile days, phasing back to normal life, Luigi’s leads by example:  We should all be pushing ourselves a little farther.

What I’m eating:  Luigi’s Bacon & Brussels

What I’m reading: Drive: The Surprising Truth About What Motivates Us -Daniel H. Pink

Pizza FOMO

“Absence makes the heart grow fonder.” -Thomas Haynes Bayly

It’s been two months since I’ve seen the glowing neon “Open” sign that dangles from my favorite New York slice shop in Madison, WI. 

Slices-the-size-of-your-head are hard to come by on Madison’s westside and I’m starting to experience some serious pizza FOMO.  It’s not your normal fear of missing out either; like the kind a teen feels when held up from a Saturday night with friends. My fear feels permanant, more haunting.   

I’m afraid I’ll never get to see my reflection in the greasy sheen of an extra cheese Pizza Di Roma slice ever again.  I’ll forget how the oversized slice flops between my  fingers as I give it a fold.  Where am I going to get a quality BBQ chicken slice?  And will I even be in the radius of any New York style delivery zone?  

As businesses begin to open back up I visit the Pizza Di Roma Facebook page daily; desperately scouring for a glimmer of hope— a new post, a notification or a clue that they could be opening up.  Though, the original downtown location resumes business, all of us loyal westside patrons, have only been offered a bleak post: “Closed until further notice” (I’m disheartened to admit I glimpsed a rumor that there is a “For Sale” sign out front!). 

Now that I can’t have Pizza Di Roma I want it more than ever. 

I look back and kick myself for all the times I could’ve ordered it, but didn’t.  All the times I settled for a single slice instead of a whole pie.  All the 20 inchers I didn’t tilt through my door. 

Moral of the story:  Life is short so eat your favorite local pizza as much as you can.  

What I wish I was eating:  Pizza Di Roma

What I’m reading: Drive: The Surprising Truth About What Motivates Us  –Daniel H. Pink

Graham Patrick’s First 24 Hours of Pizza

“Difficult roads often lead to beautiful destinations.” -Zig Zigler

Spring is the season for new life, so Tess and I popped out a baby.  

It just so happens that our new prince Graham Patrick wiggled his way out of the womb into my favorite 24 hours of the week: Friday. Like when the stumbling fawn Bambi first found out he would one day rule the forest, Graham was about to discover the power and prestige that Pizza Day holds for the Luther family.

First, we had to get our hands on some pizza.

Tess and I had endured a 24 hour induction process that was filled with skin crawling, chest tightening, anxiety spiking complications (Thank god for meditation!).  By the end of it, both of us were emotionally and physically exhausted. So, when Graham met the world and we finally had a chance to settle down in our birth suite we were both long over due for some quality nourishment.

But, confined to a locked-down hospital I wondered how would we score some pizza?

When my first son Ellis was born we had it easy, my parents and brother were able to smuggle in some Salvatore’s Tomato Pies to get us through our hospital stint, but with a pandemic and strict visitation policies we were on our own.

Though hospital food gets a bad rap I wasn’t about to give up, so I scoured the Meriter Hospital room service menu looking for a solution.

Open-face Hot Turkey Sandwich with Gravy? Rosemary Roasted Chicken Breast?  Sliced Pork Loin served with Apple Sauce? No. No. No! (Regretfully I believe I shouted “old people food!”).

Then I saw it, a glistening ray of hope on the back of the menu: Personal Pizza. 

However dingy it looks in my photo (I think it has cheddar on it?) in that moment that mini hand-tossed, extra cheese and pepperoni pizza offered me a sigh of relief that cradled me as I cradled our new little man.  (To the credit of Meriter Hospital all of their food was pretty good.) 

A perk of the whole “birth during a pandemic scenario” was that if Mom and baby are healthy after 24 hours you get to go home early.  We jumped at that opportunity mostly because Tess and I both missed our first born Ellis.

As we packed up and made our way out of the hospital I had a revelation:

Meriter Hospital is a couple blocks from Ians!

Our hospital pizza experience would now be reinforced by one of my Madison favorites. So, as we pulled out of the hospital with baby in tow we spun over to the Frances street Ian’s to pick a 20 inch cheese pizza and a couple slices of Mac n cheese.

Graham’s first day had a delicious and happy ending. Too bad he couldn’t really appreciate all the pizza surrounding him on his first rotation around the sun, but it was nice to find some fun in a rather chaotic and anxiety inducing time.  We can always fondly look back and remember that Graham Patrick was ready to “pizza party” from day one.

What I was eating on Graham’s birthday: Meriter Hospital pepperoni personal pizza and Ian’s 20 inch extra cheese pizza.

What I’m reading: The Five Dysfunctions of a Team –Patrick Lencioni

Where’s All the Stuffed Crust?

“The biggest room in the world is the room for improvement.” -Helmut Schmidt

Stuck at home I’ve got plenty of time to ponder the great mysteries of the world:  What is the meaning of life?  What happens when we die? Are we alone in the universe? Why isn’t there more stuffed crust pizza?

Of course, there’s the original gangster Pizza Hut, several frozen pizza brands dabbling and small players Rocky Rococco’s giving it a whirl once a week with their “motherload” slice, but where is everybody else?  Surely stuffing crusts with cheese is a lucrative business decision and it’s delicious, so why isn’t everyone jumping in?

Oddly enough, the king of cheap, Little Caesars just joined the ranks of the upper-crust class, by making their “Extra-Most-Bestest” better.

They’ve had cheese rimmed crusts before, but they’ve never woven one through their greatest accomplishment yet the “Extra-Most-Bestest”.  The “Extra-Most-Bestest” is a hand-tossed pepperoni pizza with extra cheese and extra pepperoni (who could ask for more!).

And now within that hand-tossed handle is a yard of cheese, that’s right, they claim they’ve got three feet of their mozzarella and muenster blend packed in that crust. Just make sure you order an extra sauce cup, because between the “Crazy Bread” and dunking that cheese-filled crust you’ll need additional rations.

While stretching my mind around the stuffed crust quandary I did learn a valuable lesson from Little Caesars stuffed “Extra-Most Bestest”:

There’s always room for improvement.  Even in these trying times, there are opportunities for growth; the stuffed crust “Extra-Most-Bestest” goes to show that everything can be made better (with more cheese!).

So, why isn’t there more stuffed crust pizza?   Not cost effect?  An operational challenge?  Not the right marketing play?  Who knows.  But, I’m sure there are a lot of people sitting at home right now that would be happy to try them out.

What I’m eating:  Little Caesars Extra-Most-Bestest stuffed crust pepperoni

What I’m reading: Vedanta Treatise: The Eternities –Swami Parthasarathy

A Really Good Friday

“When a father gives to his son, both laugh; when a son gives to his father, both cry.” -William Shakespeare

My son Ellis is a shred off the old block.  In a couple weeks he will be two years old and though his pronunciation of pizza sounds more like “pizzu” than pizza, his passion is already rivaling mine.  It won’t be long before my little prodigy surpasses me as the seasoned connoisseur, like a young Luke Skywalker with the power to wield the force stronger than Vader. It’s enough to make me tear up a bit.

Our weekly celebration begin every Thursday night as we dream up all the “pizzu and sticks” the weekend will bring us.  Friday morning the whole family shouts “Happy Friday!” and our ritual of fist-pumping and stomping around Ellis’s bedroom like Andrew W.K. begins.  We chant “pizzu! pizzu! pizzu!”.

Then when 5:30pm rolls around and our TGIF feast is steaming on the counter we raise our slices and “cheers” them.

A really Good Friday. 

Most Friday afternoons I’m restless, but last week my eagerness was overflowing for what awaited my little pizza-buddy and I.  Turns out that my dad was making a special trip to Madison to drop off some of our favorite old-school hometown pizza.

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Forget Doordash and Dominos delivery when you’ve got Dave Luther, my hero, and transporter of a coveted Rosa’s “Extra-large two-topping and large sticks special”.  The guy drove an hour from Whitewater to Madison to lay it in the front yard (bless his social distancing heart).

 

Rosa’s will forever hold a place in my heart, not just because of my nostalgic attachment to it, but because it’s the pizza that has brought and continues to bring the Luther family together.  It was on the kitchen counter as an excuse to get the family together when I was teen, it was on the coffee table when Tess and I had our first date nights in college and when Ellis first started gnawing on solid food.

This last Friday, the Luthers passed around the Rosa’s again, this time from grandfather to father to son (with clean hands and from 6 feet apart!).

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Sauces on the sticks, classic Rosa’s! Gotta love it.

Several weeks of social distancing is bringing these family moments into focus.  Lori Gottlieb American writer and psychotherapist spoke to this idea recently on The Tim Ferris Podcast explaining how she was “relishing” the time in isolation by simply watching her son and cherishing the fleeting moments she has with him.

There’s a lesson in that for everyone.  We can embrace this extra time with our families and make lasting memories.  So, while Ellis and I perform rain dances to the “pizzu Gods” and Tess giggles a long while nibbling Rosas cheese-sticks I savor the moment and toast my slice to strengthening our relationships.

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What I’m eating:  Rosa’s Extra-Large sausage and pepperoni and large sticks for

What I’m reading: On Writing: A Memoir of the Craft –Stephen King

Rolling With the Dough

“You don’t want to stand rigid like a tall oak that cracks and collapses in the storm. Instead you want to be flexible, like a reed that bends with the storm and survives.” -Deepak Chopra

I love Spring break.  It’s the rare occasion I’ll allow myself the debauchery of a full week of pizza-binging.  So, as you can imagine the Luther family Spring break vacation is a highly anticipated trip.

But, this year with a pandemic on the rise I reluctantly canceled our long-awaited travel plans to New Smyrna Beach, Florida.  With potential lives at stake, beachside pizza loses all it’s fun.

One thing was for sure though, I was in no-way-shape-or-form going to settle for any old boring staycation-pizza.

I decided that for the vacation vibes I was after I would just go on a week-long Tour-de-Pizza hitting all my favorite Madison spots.  A trip around all the local joints would surely lift my spirits.

Then Wisconsin governor Tony Evers restricted all dining-in restaurants and bars, closed all non-essential businesses and recommended everyone stay at home.  That idea was squashed like a dough ball.

What else could I do besides frozen pizzas and no-contact delivery? 

As I mulled it over, it became apparent that social distancing and self-isolation would provide a great opportunity to dial in my home-made pizza skills.

So, while everyone else was grasping for TP I cruised the grocery store for the core pizza essentials and set out to create my own destiny.

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I even took the idea one step further and decided to recreate the New Smyrna Beach pizza I was counting down the days for. 

For months I’d been daydreaming of a pizza in New Smyrna Beach from a restaurant called Third Wave Cafe.  Last year Tess and I stumbled across the little spot while frolicking down the main drag Flagler Avenue.

On a whim, we ventured into a dark, unmarked entrance outlined with palms.  Walking in was like going from the grey scheme of Kansas to the technicolor of Oz, as we discovered a lively tiki-themed bar complete with live music and a new American menu that highlighted wood-fired pizzas.

Third-wave’s concoctions were something you’d expect to see on a trendy big-city pizza menu, not in a little beach town.  This year the pie I looked forward to the most at Third Wave was called the “Honey Baby”: A sweet and spicy combo comprised of Calabrian chiles, spicy soppressata, and drizzles of honey.

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Creating the “Honey Baby” at home. 

We started with a ball of cooled, pre-prepped pizza dough that we tossed on our flour-dusted counter and went to town stretching.  I had a brief stint in the pizza biz after college, so I called upon all the dough stretching skills my muscle memory could muster.

Our primary goal was a faux wood-fired crispy crust and for that, we turned to the gas grill.  After a liberal drizzle of olive oil, we tossed the bare pizza-skin on the grill, heated to 500°.  We were after a par-baked crust and it didn’t take long for the dough to start getting firm and bubbling up.

Next, it was time to dress the par-baked crust with cheese, sauce, and toppings and finish it in the oven.

I took a trick out of my all-time favorite pizzeria Gus’s playbook and used slices of mozzarella instead of shreds.  On top of that, I sprinkled diced-up hot cherry peppers, pepperonis and sent the pie off to a preheated 450° oven.  Once the crust and cheese were golden brown I removed it from the oven and then drizzled it with raw organic honey.

It was spicy, sweet and savory; exactly what I was looking for.  To quote the late, great Tanners from the sitcom Full House “Whoa “Honey” Baby!”

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What pizza taught me:

The bright side can be easily lost in troubling times, but it’s always there.  On my mission to salvage my Spring break pizza-eating session, it took a few pivots but I found my way.  The next few months will probably take similar adjustments, but by being adaptable we will prevail on the other side.

What I’m eating: Homemade pepperoni, hot cherry peppers, mozzarella, and honey drizzle.

What I’m reading:  On Writing: A Memoir of the Craft -Stephen King

Put the Cheese in Your Hands

“It is not in the stars to hold our destiny, but in ourselves.” William Shakespeare

Have you ever looked down at your slice and wished there was just a little more cheese?

With every pizza there’s always the risk of “poorly-portioned-mozzarella-melancholy”:  The sorrow you feel when you get a slice with lack-luster cheese distribution.  We’ve all seen that one spot on the pie that’s showing just a little too much red and not enough shreds.

But, I’ve stumbled across the solution; a quick, cheap fix that will surely prove to be even more essential than the parmesan and red pepper flakes:

A pizza-patching kit.

Also known as a spare bag of mozzarella cheese in the fridge for filling in those dreaded cheeseless gaps. For $3 or less you provide yourself some extra cheesy insurance that can save the day any day of the week.

For many, this concept is a total “no duh”, an age-old no-brainer to step up any pizza, but for folks like myself who’ve always just settled for what they’re given, it’s an awakening.  I will no longer bear the anguish of inadequately allocated cheese on my pizzas.

It works especially great on frozen pizzas and take-n-bakes where you never know what sort of machine malfunction or light-handed cheeser could screw up your balance.

Most recently I brought out my bag to beef up a take-n bake pepperoni pizza from Aldi’s on Madisons Westside.

I grew up giving Aldi’s a bad rap (maybe because my only impression was from the dingy Janesville location as a kid).  But, it appears they’ve revamped their set up (they’re actually under the same umbrella as Trader Joe’s) and their take-n-bake pizzas and cheese sticks are surprisingly awesome and super cheap.

Last weekend it turned out though that the toppings on the pizza I grabbed got shuffled around a bit leaving a few slightly barren areas.

Before.

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I was in the mood for “next-level” cheesiness, so I took out my pizza patching kit, did a quick waltz around the pie like a fairie sprinkling pixie dust and voila, I found what I was after.

After.

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That pizza patching kit is a force multiplier. 

In military science, a force multiplier is a skill, a tool or strategy that will give you a leg up and enable higher output and better results with minimal additional effort.  That’s what I got when I put the cheese in my hands.  With my trusty bag of mozzarella, I’m no longer at the whim of the fates I can take any pizza from good to great.

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Final Product

What I’m eating: Aldi’s take-n-bake pepperoni pizza (with extra mozzarella from the fridge).

What I’m reading:  Benjamin Franklin: An American Life –Walter Isaacson

The Lure of Limited Time Offers

“When the well is dry, we know the worth of water.” Ben Franklin

When it comes to pizza nothing creates more urgency for me than the words “limited time”. 

When I hear “limited availability” all decency goes out the door as I scramble for the nearest slice—I resemble George Costanza from the sitcom Seinfeld shoving women and children out of the way when he hears “Fire!”.

Toppers Pizza, bless their hearts, has got my business locked down for the month of February by playing on this age-old law of human nature.  For the brief 29 days, Toppers has gifted us back two beloved old school all-stars: Taco Stix and Cool CBR (chicken, bacon, ranch) Pizza and I am extremely stoked (Hallelujah it’s a leap year, we get an extra day of Tacostix!).

taco stix back

Growing up in Whitewater WI. the home of “topperstix” I’ve been ingrained with a deep infatuation with cheesy, garlicky breadsticks of all varieties, especially Topper’s Tacostix.

Every so often I’ll get a craving so intense I’ll have no choice but to flip “pizza-night” into “cheesy-breadstick-night” and last weekend with their limited-time offer bewitching me I couldn’t ignore my urges and headed straight to stick-town.

Tacostix. 

Luckily for me, I have got an inside man (Thanks Adam!) who leaked this intel so I could start feasting January 31st as soon as they hit the menu (though I had to give a refresher to the employees on how to make Tacostix).

After my first dunk in the ranch cup, I was transported back to a better time—when I could eat Tacostix whenever I wanted.  I relished those little bits of taco meat that nestle themselves into melted mozzarella, cheddar cheese, and garlic-butter basted dough.

A deadline is a powerful thing.

Years ago I could enjoy Tacostix from 11am-3am any day of the week (yes, they have insane hours), but now that those zesty stick’s days are numbered that has unleashed an undeniable enticement within me.

When somethings about to go bye-bye it makes us want it ten times more—that’s the law of scarcity.  Or in Topper’s case artificial scarcity; clever marketing to create demand with a limited run (but hey it works for me!).

Though Topper’s brief return of my most beloved classic feels a little like they’re tugging at my heartstrings (I’m not the only one who shares that sentiment, see below), there’s no doubt they’ve engaged an effective strategy to create some buzz and secured some business for the month.

Sentiment

What I’m eating: Toppers Tacosticks with ranch dipping sauce.

What I’m reading:   Benjamin Franklin: An American Life –Walter Isaacson

Learning from the Master

“Attention is the rarest and purest form of generosity.” -Simone Weil

For many the new year is marked with memberships; gym memberships, monthly meal-kit memberships, and digital streaming memberships.  This year though, I think I landed the best membership of all.

When my mom asked me what I wanted for Christmas it may come as no surprise that I asked for pizza.  Half joking I suggested she deliver my favorite Rosa’s or Gus’ pizza from my hometown of Whitewater to Madison.

To my delight, my parents took my request to heart and delivered (not with a Rosas extra-large pizza and large sticks special, although bless their hearts they have done that), but with a pizza gift that will keep giving this whole year:

A Pizza of the Month Club Subscription.

That’s right, I’m now the proud member of a Pizza of the Month Club by Amazing Clubs. Every 3 months a variety of “gourmet” pizzas is going to just show up at my door and in my first shipment, I got a pretty off the wall combo.

“Hot Italian Beef” deep-dish pizza.

When I received that initial dry-ice packed box on my doorstep it felt like Christmas morning all over again.  As I inspected my new arrivals I did a double-take as I found a pan-style “Hot Italian Beef” pizza complete with spicy giardiniera and all.

I’m a sucker for spicy giardiniera.

I was pleasantly surprised at the composition; very thin strips of meat wove themselves through mozzarella and tender bits of giardiniera that softened from the 25 minutes in the oven.  The crust wasn’t too thick and basically acted like a bowl that contained the layers of cheese, beef, giardiniera and an ultra-light base of pizza sauce.

Good old mom not only gifted me some excellent pizza but taught me an important lesson in communication:  Listen.

Turns out effective communication is more about listening and responding appropriately to someone’s needs rather than trying to convey our own point.

Author Adam Grant uses a quote from former CEO Joe Quigley in his book Give and Take:  “Many times, you can have a bigger impact if you know what to ask, rather than knowing what to say.  I don’t learn anything when I’m speaking.  I learn a lot when I’m listening.”

It obviously doesn’t take a lot of investigating to realize my passion for pizza, but after all these years of jib jabbering about it, it turns out my Mom was paying attention.

So, she not only scored the “best Mom of 2020” award and stocked me up with delicious writing material for the next year, but reminded me of a skill that will surely prove useful in my own parenting adventures. 

What I’m eating:  Hot Italian beef Chicago Style deep-dish pizza from Amazing Clubs-Pizza of the Month Club

What I’m reading: How to Talk So Kids Will Listen & Listen So Kids Will Talk –Adele Faber and Elaine Mazlish