I always thought that saying was a little odd -- everyone knows that pizza is round. But I chalked it up to the same people who thought of the P&S problem of how many socks do you have to pull out of a drawer of blue socks and black socks to get a pair. You just grab the bunch of socks, right? I mean, doesn't everyone fold their socks? What is this sloppiness of putting unmatched socks into a drawer? Where were these people raised, in a barn?
Anyhow. Guess what? Pizza in Milwaukee are square. SH and I got pizza from a place that is supposed to be one of the best pizza places in town (the fact that Milwaukee was settled by Germans should have been our first clue) and not only was it not very good (a thick crust does not break when I bite into it, OK? "thick" means chewy and thick, not cracker-like and thin) but it was square, which ruined the entire pizza-eating experience. One is supposed to be able to pick up the piece of pizza by the outside crust and then eat out from the point to the outside. But not with square pizza, you're not going to eat like that.
I thought it was an isolated incident: that perhaps these unsophisticated Germans, who don't even know what chicken-fried steak is and who charge $3.00 a pound for collards (when they can be found), might have messed up the pizza at one restaurant. But then I saw the recipe for the Potato Rosemary Onion Pizza in the Sunday paper, a recipe written by some famous restaurant guy who has been to Europe, and he wants me to make a square pizza crust.*
Between this pizza debacle and the snow (yes, SH spent an hour shoveling snow yesterday with the shovel Lenore gave us as a housewarming present in July, which was funny then but makes me want to move to Texas now, and we still have ice in the driveway because snow on the roof melts during the day, runs down the gutter, pools in the driveway, which is sloped away from our house and away from our neighbor's house, which is probably some stupid code requirement, and freezes, making walking to the car a very delicate operation, especially for someone who has never lived in global-warming winter as an adult before), I have lots of proof should SH ever doubt my love for him. I coulda stayed in Memphis, where they know what's what with pizza and I never once had to shovel snow.
* Yes, I know that's how they make pizza in Rome, but in the US, we make pizza round. Dammit.
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