Decisions decisions. What was I going to eat for supper? That’s always an important question for me, but today is a special day. Today was the first day that my taste has come back since I had Covid (my fourth time, by the way). In addition, my wife’s out of town for a few days, so I have a wide latitude on what to pick for my celebratory meal. After a moment of thought, it came to me: I wanted a Chef Boyardee Pizza. I know most of you are thinking, “I still don’t think he has any taste. Pick a steak or a piece of fish, you idiot. Go out and buy something good.” Nope -  I want a Chef Boyardee pizza that I make in my own kitchen.  As you might’ve guessed by now, more than taste is in play here. 

You see young ‘uns, there was a time in America when Dominoes was a game you played on the kitchen table, and Little Caesar was a Roman emperor. Back then, a Calzone sounded like the name of a new Ford sedan. Keep in mind that in the early to mid-sixties, besides New York and Chicago, pizza places were few and far between. In my neck of the woods, we had a little chain called Pasquale’s and that was about it. Shakey’s hadn’t come along yet, and Pizza Hut was a new chain in the Midwest. So, if you wanted a pizza in the south, most of the time your mom made it, using a good ol’ box of Chef Boyardee.