Really? That’s how Round Table does their Maui Wowie. Some kind of sweet and spicy BBQ sauce instead of the normal tomato sauce. They should just replace the Canadian bacon with Spam and it would be perfect.
I am glad nothing else in the world is going on so that we can afford to think important issues such as company trying a variation on pizza in a mature market with many options to consumers.
It’s good, but remember it doesn’t mean you have to have it on every pizza forever. It blends nicely with jalapenos and white onion to give a sweet and spicy taste, but I wouldn’t put it on a veggie lovers or meat lovers.
Most importantly, no one is making you eat it. If someone else likes it, fuck off and let them enjoy it. This reminds me of the “no ketchup on hotdogs” people. Just let people like what they like.
I like pineapple pizza. I also dunk my fries in milkshake. When I’m feeling hungry I’ll open a ton of sardines and just go heavy on those salty fuckers right there over the sink. And I’m ashamed of none of these things.
I try to give fans of Hawaiian pizza the benefit of the doubt. I say that apparently I’ve never had Hawaiian pizza done right. To me, it just tastes like a decent pizza… that somebody decided to add fruit to, for some incomprehensible reason. I’ll laugh at myself and change the topic.
Do you insist on steering the topic back? Want to lecture me on how great “salty and sweet” is? Okay, fine. I’ll suggest putting Twizzlers on there. Or m&m’s. Is that nauseating? Do you think those flavors and/or textures don’t work well on pizza? NEITHER DOES PINEAPPLE, YOU STUBBORN, BORING PIZZA SNOB. SHUT UP ALREADY.
Peppers are a fruit. I think you mean to say it makes no sense to put sweet and sour things on savory things, because that’s a flavor combination that never, ever works.
Um, sweet and sour chicken/whatever protein you want is a dish you’ll find in every westernised Chinese eatery, and it’ll be one of the most ordered dishes.
In this same house, in the 1980s, Nonna Fiore once served some English guests lasagna, per my uncle’s request. The lasagna was cooked from frozen, her story goes. Life was busy and, anyway, she had no qualms about serving a supermarket ready meal; people could only dream of such a luxury during the war. None of the guests suspected that she hadn’t made it from scratch and everyone was delighted, her Italian son included. She reminds me of this, then looks up at me and winks.
Add comment