DON'T MESS WITH THE PIZZA

Ah, pizza. A simple, perfect food that’s been lovingly desecrated in ways no Italian nonna could have imagined. Let’s set the record straight, shall we? Pizza isn’t about thick, bread-like crusts or layers of mismatched toppings that make it resemble a confused casserole. And it definitely isn’t about replacing the sacred tomato sauce with… (shudder) barbecue sauce. It’s time to go back to the basics and give pizza the respect it deserves.

A pizza crust should be a masterpiece in itself. Not so thick it’s mistaken for a bread roll, but not so thin that it flops around like a limp handshake when you pick up a slice. We’re talking about the Goldilocks zone of crusts here: crisp enough to hold its shape, yet soft and chewy on the inside. Italians have perfected this balance over centuries, and quite frankly, we should all be taking notes.

Let’s be clear: barbecue sauce has no place on a pizza. None. Zilch. A true pizza features a tomato sauce that’s tangy, slightly sweet, and bursting with the flavour of real, sun-ripened tomatoes. It’s the base that ties everything together, not a sugary distraction trying to steal the show. If you’re reaching for the smoky stuff, just stop. Think of the nonnas.

Ever bitten into a slice only to find the cheese is barely there? Tragic. Cheese should be plentiful, stretchy, and melting gloriously into every corner of the pizza. Mozzarella is the queen here, not some processed imposter that leaves an oily sheen. Don’t skimp on the cheese—your pizza (and your taste buds) deserve better.

Toppings are the accessories of the pizza world: they’re there to enhance, not overshadow. A few fresh basil leaves, a drizzle of olive oil, or some paper-thin slices of prosciutto—perfection. Piling on pineapple, chicken, and five different cheeses? That’s not a pizza; it’s a cry for help. Let’s keep it simple, folks.

When in doubt, look to the Italians. Neapolitan pizzas are baked in wood-fired ovens, emerging with a crisp crust, bubbly edges, and toppings so balanced you’ll feel like you’re eating art. Roman-style pizzas, with their thinner bases and focus on fresh ingredients, are equally delightful. Either way, these are the gold standards—not the overstuffed, underwhelming creations some dare to call pizza today.

So here’s the deal: pizza should be a joy, not a burden. It should feel light in your hand and on your stomach, with every bite delivering the perfect balance of crust, sauce, cheese, and toppings. Let’s put down the ranch dressing, step away from the barbecue sauce, and honour the true beauty of pizza. Anything less is a crime against dough.