I don’t like having a utensil or appliance in my kitchen that doesn’t pull its own weight. Any time I can find a use for something that doesn’t lessen the quality of the finished product I go ahead and make it work for me. My bread machine is a perfect example of this multitasking. Not only does it produce a decent loaf of bread, it can be a time and effort saver when I kneed an extra pair of hands in the kitchen (Pun intended).
Growing up on the south side of Chicago, “pizza” meant two things; either thin with a sweet sauce, fennel-y sausage and browned melted cheese on top from any number of store-front shops; or deep pan, one slice is a meal but I’ll take two with buttery crust cradling layers of cheese, garlicky sausage, and chunky tomatoes from downtown restaurants. We left the north siders to their thick-crust variety and would certainly eat it when visiting, if necessary to maintain cross-town friendships, but we’d talk about the winning advantages of our south side thin crust pies all the way home.
