Frozen! Let it go...

On an Autumn Saturday afternoon, the weather, a cool, cloudy day, a slight chill reminding the world summer is at its end. On these days, I am the most nostalgic. The candles in the house all reminding me of a childhood memory. These involving school activities, football, dances, and baking, who could forget the baking.

On this particular day, I drew the paper in my Tupperware bowl of frozen pizza, this to include Red Baron pepperoni, Digiorno, stuffed crust cheese, Tombstone, pepperoni and sausage, and a specialty Target brand (Archer Farms) goat cheese, spinach, and tomatoes.

The smell of Yankee Candle scents were prematurely in the air weeks ago. Apple Cider and apple spice, combined with the cooking pizzas and a home improvement show on the television for the Huskers had already lost their football game. 

Frozen pizzas, indicative of home, reminding me of a childhood defined by food. A feeling of temperature change, smell of candles, and a warmth on the inside of the house only a cooking oven provides. This triggers me to eat, overeat, and look to food as entertainment and comfort. Food defines my seasons, behaviors established as a youngster still writhing in my soul today. A dependence I no longer want to glorify, however is recalled back to life every August-September as the transition from hot, humid days to cooler, lighter days. The clothes go from a tank-top and shorts to jeans and a sweater. I am comforted by being clothed, for I feel no obligation to anyone and how I look.

I wish the last part were true, however my OCD will not allow a simple truth such as this.

Pizza, being the most addictive food, as was discovered in research, has a different smell when cooked in home, a difference that makes it more inviting. After all, a pizzeria or buffet (as was already experienced in CiCi's) can invite more of a social, even hip aspect that eating pizza at home differs from. Not to mention, growing up with 3 brothers who could eat an entire large pizza themselves, frozen pizzas were typical and "ordered pizza" was saved for those "special" occasions. This was only made worse when mom and all 4 boys did some "low-carb" diet only to burn through the toppings of 5 to 6 pizzas, with crusts filling the trash can.

The pizzas selected for today's adventure were so because these are typically what I think of when frozen pizza discussed. Tombstone was a classic at our house, a favorite among me and my brothers, also, the price for the pizza today was under $4. The Digiorno was a "fancier" frozen pizza and with its "Stuffed Crust," is worth every penny. The price rivals that of an ordered pizza on deal. The Red Baron pizza, as it was made known to me was actually a Schwan's pizza, a brand my brothers and I were all too familiar with. The last one, the Target brand, was to throw in an odd-ball for some sort of variation outside of meat and cheese.

Tombstone- good sweet crust. Enough sauce- good cheese and plenty of big meats (that's what she said.) 

This is still the best frozen pizza in my opinion. The memory of every sleep over I ever had as a kid came rushing back. My nostalgia triggered. A sentimental feel for $3.77, It's a wonder why people do not eat healthier. 

Digiorno- Good. Sweet crust. "Blah" sauce. My wife has a soft spot for the stuffed crust, for which I could have probably just ordered cheesy bread sticks. 

Red Baron- Dry crust, sauce too tangy, not enough cheese, little meats (size and quantity). While this pizza was being cooked my daughter and I outside playing and by the time we came in, the pizza a hardened rock already. No sustainability. 

Target- light crispy crust, light sauce but didn't notice. Good cheese, seems to have a higher moisture content, also the goat cheese was rich! $5, not traditional, and spinach off-sets the intensity of the goat cheese and sweet crust. I did have to remove some tomatoes which I expected in getting it, but, if they would have been fire roasted and not have juiced all over the area they lay in, now that would have been good. 

"Interestingly this is the only pizza I hadn't dipped in sauce."- Rach

After some samples of the Red Baron and Digiorno and a slice of Tombstone and Target, I could have eaten more but simply did not want to. All pies hardened and plates a mess. The dogs got more pie than I did. 

A conversation ensues with my wife regarding my overall disappointment with pizza lately, even the great stuff had at Patty's Pub, the best so far. She tells me I over glorify food, a fact I am all too aware of. However, in the context of doing this pizza adventure and being critical on the pies, none are what I made them out to be. Even when the flavors are good, textures, sauces, and every other aspect satisfying, I still walk away from the pizzas a little empty. 

Other Nostalgic parts of fall. 

This excites me. I have worked the past several years at altering my behaviors, specifically reliance on food as a source of fulfillment. My childhood memories are triggered through thoughts of food. You name an event and I can probably tell you what I was eating. My mom, she bakes, she bakes really well, however her baking or the food available during the holidays and different season changes was not love. Food is not anything but nourishment. When I eat for nourishment and therefore cut out a lot of the riff raff, then food is more satisfying for me. When I rely on it to fill in the gaps, I am left unsatisfied. No pizza, in existence, can do what I want it to do. Pizza is great and will always have a place in my heart (literally with the processed ingredients) however it will never be my heart. Deeper meaning must be experienced when living a life worth living. 

Now, though this may have been a bit deeper than the crust on my Red Baron, for which it was a deep dish, it is what home invites. Frozen pizza cooked at home invites a level of comfort that pizza places cannot match for me. It is home where I can be most comfortable and open to have the realizations and conversations I did today. For that I thank you frozen pizzas, even you, you ol' Red Baron, hard-crusted bastard.