One of the things I miss most after being diagnosed with Celiac’s, is just good old pizza and beer night. And I’m not even talking about at home, $5 Little Caesars and Sriracha Sauce in one hand, Leinie in the other (of course this leaves the remote control firmly cemented between the knees).
I’m talking those nostalgic old times when some friends and we would get together and go grab a slice of pie on a Friday night. The question was never when we could find the time to do it, but always where we would go. For as many of us as there were, there were differing opinions on where to dine at. Me, I’m a fan of the Old Chicago Deep Dish Supreme, or anything from Pizza Luce downtown. Good beer selection, good pizza, good times. Even if we did all agree on a place to go, let’s say, for the sake of argument, Luce, trying to decide what we’ll have on the pizza once we get there is always a challenge. Macaroni & Cheese Pizza? No. Thai Chicken Pizza? Meh. I like a good, garlicky marinara, lots of Italian sausage and spicy pepperonis, oozing cheese, some bell peppers, onion and olives thrown in for texture and of course generous dashes of red pepper and parmesan cheese on top for good measure. Washed down with something really cold, in a big frosty mug preferably.
That’s why I was curiously intrigued when I read Minnesota Monthly’s article Pizza Perfect, touting the world’s first Pizza Personality Type Indicator. Like the article mentions it’s not the pizzas that are so different, really—it’s that the people eating them are.
And after taking the test, I learned I was an ATPL, or that is to say American/ Traditionalist/ Populist/ Luxurious. Eh? Here’s how MM described it: I’m a Lawn Chair Connoisseur (really, me? I’m not bookish or gourmet? Sad day.). Apparentely I “could spend a lot more money on luxuries if you chose to—but you don’t. It’s not that you don’t appreciate the good life, you just aren’t too interested in its trappings. Give you a warm coat, a working car, and a cookout, and you’re happy. Angst is for losers. Fire up the grill!” My pizza is Leonardo’s, in Mahtomedi. MM writes:
“Homesick Chicago transplants have been known to fly down to the Windy City for
a deep-dish pizza because Minnesota, for all its charms, tends to make deep-dish
pizzas that are either not deep enough, or, well, repulsive. It’s time for
homesick Chicago transplants to join hands, sing, and rejoice! There is, in
fact, one place in the Twin Cities that knows how to make a deep-dish pizza. The
place is called Leonardo’s, in Mahtomedi. Call ahead with your deep-dish
order because it will take Leonardo’s a good 40 minutes to cook their Chicago
stuffed pizza, as it should. When it’s done, though, you will have a heavy,
casserole-sized, well-cooked two-inch-deep pizza stuffed with Italian sausage,
Canadian bacon, pepperoni, mushrooms, black olives, provolone, mozzarella,
and—most important—a spicy, garlicky, thick, zesty, magnificent marinara sauce.
They don’t cut it for you—it would ooze everywhere—so don’t plan on sneaking a
slice in the car on the way home. But once you wrestle this thing into your
house, you’ll find it was well worth the trip to Mahtomedi. Put on your Cubs
hat, pop the top on a Goose Island beer, and dive into the best Chicago-style
pizza this side of Belmont Avenue.”
Ok, that makes perfect sense. And while I don’t put a lot of stock in little quizzes such as these, it did remind me of a few weeks ago, at camp, when I retook the Meyers-Briggs again, and saw how my personality & temperament had remained surprisingly constant in the few years since I took it in SHAPE class. Still an ISFP, the description of me as an “Idealist” seemed to fit well. “Idealists are enthusiastic, they trust their intuition, yearn for romance, seek their true self and prize meaningful relationships. Idealists pride themselves on being loving, kindhearted and authentic.” Yep, so far so good. “Idealists tend to be giving, trusting, spiritual, and they are focused on personal journeys and human potentials. Idealists make intense mates, nurturing parents, and inspirational leaders.” Okaaaay. I’m not so sure about the last part, I mean, I’m not yet anyone’s mate, parent, and as for leading, well I know a few under-10 year olds that let me rassle with them occasionally. If unambitious was a diagnosed four letter acronym, would it spell out S-L-A-C-K-E-R?
In any case, all this self reflection, at the prompting of just wanting to kill some time, has made crave pizza, a lot. It’s a good thing tonight I’ll be eschewing my introverted ways, and joining some friends for pizza before the last softball game of the season. Maybe if it doesn’t rain, we’ll have some F-U-N. Otherwise, tonight just might find me at home, with the sad consolation prize of Sriracha, Little Ceasers and a Leinies. S-A-D D-A-Y.