Friday is pizza night. It's been that way for a very long time. And because I'm a cheapskate we generally make our own pizza. Crust, sauce, the works. Every Friday.
Tonight my father-in-law treated us to pizza from a genuine pizza place. It's been a long, long time. It was so, so delicious.
I made the trip with the old boy to pick up the pies. As we walked through the door, the first thing that struck me was the familiar ambiance. A few tables, a cooler with soda and water, pizza ovens, and a counter with glass display case containing a variety of pizzas.
And the aroma. (*breathe in s-l-o-w-l-y) There isn't anything else on earth like the beautiful fragrance of a genuine pizza joint.
The yeasty, cheesy, saucy, greasy aroma.
Ahhhhh ..........
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