It’s interesting, because my parents are from Italy and I spent much of my childhood in Italy, friends expect me to have a great cooking ability. The fact is I can’t cook at all. My entire childhood consisted of “mom, when is dinner ready.” Actually, this applies to today as well. When I go “home” to see the folks, it’s still “mom, when is dinner ready.”

Since a good pizza is difficult to find anywhere outside the 5 boroughs, I will probably have a backyard pizza oven (if cc&r’s permit). But someone else will have to make the pizza. My ability is limited to putting it in the oven.