This Pizza Took My Will To Live

Let’s put the pineapple pizza debate to bed and find something we can really fight for. When it comes to a good pizza, it’s all about that base. Some people might like a thin, crispy base that looks and taste like it was covered in flour before being pre-packed seven years ago by Arnott’s. Those people are wrong.

Today I danced with the devil, also known as spending two hours on the phone to Centrelink. At the end of it my payments were all fixed and all of a sudden Ella and I actually have more money than expected. I’m feeling celebratory and she is just exhausted. That’s a recipe for Uber Eats if I ever saw one.

The Street View Cafe and Bar is our one and only option for fast pizza and goddamn, we are starving. It’s a Monday afternoon, our house is cold and grey, and renovation shows are on replay on Nine Life. We order a classic vegetarian pizza and some good old wedges.

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That feel when your courier has your food and is on the way

I think the reason I’m writing this is not just because the meal was awful, but because I was so excited to begin with. Heartbreak is harder when you had your hopes up in the first place. When I opened that warm pizza box, a part of my soul died.

Pizza is a serious game. People have killed other people for pizza, and I bet you’re not surprised. I like my pizza the way I like my thighs: thick. This was flatter than Miley Cyrus’ ass and just as bland.

Imagine that you take a bite of a nice thick pizza, with the perfect amount of cheese melting right in front of your eyes and a beautiful array of toppings, a rainbow of mouthwatering goodness. Imagine you take a bite and there’s a little bit of mushroom, a touch of capsicum, the tomato paste is sweet and fresh with a pinch of basil, the base is thick but has that right amount of crunch, and the cheese pulls you in for more. Imagine that. That’s what I was imagining.

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Apart from being so thin it could have been a frisbee and cheese, the toppings looked hopeful. I remained optimistic.

I tried to keep my hopes up. After my first bite, I was distraught. It was like this pizza had gone stale multiple times and been baked in someone’s oven and farted on before being delivered to my door. It was like someone’s kid had put Tasty Cheese on a piece of paper and then picked up some leaves to cover it in. There was an entire olive on that slice, not even chopped, and a long slice of onion. That was it.

The wedges were served with a tub of sour cream and some sweet chilli sauce. Last week we bought a few bags of cheap wedges from Aldi and I’m half convinced these were them. But then again the Aldi ones were crisp and had some flavour. All in all I don’t have anything too bad to say about them, and they redeemed the experience by being filling enough that I didn’t have to eat the pizza.

Now who do I talk to about a refund?

– Jess

(I’m aware that I’m being a bit overdramatic and this is partially satirical. It’s recently come to my attention that owning a blog means you can write whatever the fuck you want and call it relevant. Plus, that pizza really did suck.)

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