Growing up, Friday night we always ate Chinese food. Religiously. One family favorite was the Golden Temple restaurant, leading to all kinds of bad jokes from my father about going to "Temple" on Friday night. Mmmm, bring on the pork fried rice. Thanks Dad. I think I may have inherited your sense of humor.
For my husband, Friday meant pizza. I've been making a lot of homemade pizza lately (inspired by my mother-in-law's acquisition of a pizza stone, or one of my mother-in-laws, I should say, as I'm blessed with no less than three! Keep your snarky comments to yourself, people. They read this blog on a semi-regular basis.)
Right...so, pizza! Everyone loves pizza. Homemade crust is easy as crust with my kitchen-aid mixer (thinking about my mixer makes me burst into song and dance around the kitchen), and then it's fun to experiment with toppings. Tonight's creation is a pesto pizza with artichoke hearts, garlicky sauteed spinach, Parmesan, mozzarella, a light sprinkle of feta, and of course, olive oil.
I'll take some pictures when it comes out of the oven. You know it's done when the smoke alarm goes off.
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