David Greenwood is a bit of a hero in the Wriggle office. We've never met him or heard his voice, hell we know very little about him apart from the man is very particular about his pizza. We look forward to his feedback on the various pizza places he eats at on the Wriggle app as he's nothing but honest and quite frankly hilarious. We challenged him to tell us how he would create the perfect pizza and he didn't let us down.
So where do we start?
In a word, bread. Or dough. But not just any dough! The grains for this dough must be procured by hand only by virgin maidens that were born on a full moon in the month of November (which, admittedly is superstitious, but superstition works until science turns up and proves it doesn't, at which point it becomes philosophical and most people lose interest and get back to making the dough).
Once the grains have been procured they must be ground down to flour and then we must get it drunk on water to trick the gluten into doing what we want which is getting stretchy. We do this by ignoring it.
Neglect it for a good while, days even, then beat it. Bash it with your fists and pummel it some (you may even try shouting at it if you feel you're not expressing yourself entirely as you wish), then cover it and leave it somewhere warmish and unpleasant for some time. Beat it up again - then try to make friends with it. If at this point it accepts you, you are worthy of a lifetime of labour working off your recent transgressions making tasty round peasant food and making other people happy in their mouths.
But not just yet. What about the sauce? Again, it is a matter of neglect. You need to ignore the tomatoes to just before the point where they spoil on their own. They must sit in a basket and contemplate their lives and/or impending death. At this point you may notice your thumb touching the the tips of your fingers in a gesture which is communicating, but not limited to, your exasperation at the fact that the magic behind the process is actually nothing but the appropriate use of neglect. Not too much neglect though. The right amount of neglect. It is proven that the most effective way to kill, er, anything, is with neglect - so why not learn to use it constructively? All you need to do is ignore the tomatoes until they are on the verge of rotting in their own juices. Then, you give them your attention. All of it!
You become excited.
You score an X on their skin like a quick kiss with a sharp knife, and plop them in boiling water for up to a minute (depending on the severity of their sins), then a quick dunk in cold water so you can efficiently rip their skins off. You cut them open, throw away their seeds so there is no chance they will breed, and cook them slowly. This method, if transposed to politics, is also an appropriate way to assuage your personal gripes with your least favourite politician.
Now what? Buffalo buffalo buffalo. But without getting too bogged down by grammar, just find one for now. Make friends with said buffalo. Check she is a she. Maybe name her? Then, if Daisy is willing, milk her. After milking, through an act of sheer will and frontal lobe concentration (and maybe some clever process with hot water and stirring), force the milk into becoming a blob of what we recognise as a mildy flavoured and stringy when melted buffalo mozzarella cheese.
Then combine all these ingredients, add anything else you may need to mask the flavour of having failed in correctly producing all of the above, and plonk it in an oven that is so hot it must be powered by witchcraft. Tada!
Thanks David, luckily we have plenty of pizzas on the app for those of you who can't get their hands on a buffalo or virgin maidens that were born on a full moon in the month of November. If you want to catch up with David you can read his occasional scribblings here and listen to his excellent music here and here