I am tempted to start a pizza shop but there are many hurdles, the most important one is the dog factor. You can’t get a permit with dogs in the house unless you can keep them out of the kitchen. It would be a tremendous amount of work and in order to become a food purveyor, you need to be ready to commit yourself 200% which I am not up to doing at the moment, but when you get crazy compliments over your pizza, it is easy to let them steer you to fantasy land where you are the latest pizza queen.
I am more than happy with my writing and reading schedule not to mention taking care of Rex and Jack and the rest of my babies (my hubby, my baby boy and my baby girl). I’ll just invite people over for the odd weekend retreat to Blandford where I can cook to my hearts content and then spend the rest of the week recuperating.
By the way pizza number three came out of the oven and was gone before I even thought to take a picture, but I should have taken a picture of number four just to show that even the pizza queen can have an off pizza. I was sitting in the living room with my IPad playing spider solitaire when I looked up and said merde! I ran to the oven and pulled out an extra crispy burnt around the edges pizza, oops. It was still good but you have to like really caramelized cheese. It still went like hotcakes. I don’t mind burnt crust, it wasn’t charcoal yet, such a dark brown. It can happen to anyone, you would think that by now I would learn my lesson , but no.