Pizza stands tall: "I'm not afraid of fruit"

Pizza. We love it, we eat it by the truckload. But have we stopped to wonder what it can handle? Do we push the envelope on pizza enough to determine it's own capacity for love? I sat down with pizza a while back and had a discussion.

M: So, pizza. You're pretty dependable--do you think that's your best trait?
P: Badda-boosh, you kiddin'? I'm so f-ing bored. I'm the food of the people, but the people have no imagination!
M: Um, we got a family-friendly show, here, pizza.
P: (grimacing in acceptance) Only in these fru-fru Wolfgang Puck, Mario Batali, gourmet establishments do chefs experiment. Meanwhile, I'm pepperoni and cheese 100,000-times a night across America.
M: Well, to be fair, you are pretty good with just pepperoni and cheese.
P: (blushing) True, true.
M: So what you're saying is that you don't mind if people experiment?
P: If I could slap-a-you upside the head, I'd do it-you kiddin'? Do you get up and put on the same thing everyday?
M: Good point.
P: Thank you, now take a bite of me before I slap-a-you.

To that end, I've taken pizza's advice. One of my favorites was a thinly-sliced raw salmon (which cooked perfectly in 7 min in my 530-degree oven), lemon, green onion, oil & vinegar with sparse feta and a touch of red sauce. Mmmm. The other night I added this one, which was an interesting change for pizza (he said so himself):


Top slice: It's the local ham, cubed and browned with the local canteloupe, chipotle powder, honey and a bit of balsamic. Fresh melting sheep's milk cheese and basil chiffonade on top after it comes out of the oven sealed the deal. Yummers.

Bottom slice: more traditional, apple-sage vegan sausage (Whole Foods), pine nuts, banana peppers. All good.