The best part of parenting is witnessing my kids experience all the nuances of pizza…. I mean…life for the first time. And yes, in our household pizza-eating provides many of those cherished moments.
About a month ago I got my annual urge for a pizza that’s reverse engineered with chunky tomato sauce on top, a hearty portion of mozzarella in the middle and buttery crust on the bottom.
With my first born Ellis a full blown Friday night pizza enthusiast I figured it would be the perfect time to introduce him to the behemoth staple of our windy city neighbor.
Chicago Style.
With how close Madison is to Chicago we are really lacking in the Chicago Style Deep Dish department. Rosati’s the chain based out of Illinois is really our only option (also, my go to for Italian Beefs).
Upon returning home from Rosati’s I plopped our several pound medium pie onto the counter and peered in the box at a red sea of steaming sauce. Between the thick slices I could see the gooey collision of two walls of extra mozzarella crashing into each other.
Watching Ellis behold the backwards composition of a Chicago slice was heartwarming. You could see his eyes go wide and his head tilt in bewilderment as he pondered how to go about taking a bite.
Upon diving in he pulled out a mozzarella tight rope that hung between his sauce covered mouth and the slice in his hands. My kiddo made an epic cheese stretch that resembled an electrical wire dangling between two utility poles. Proud. Dad. Moment.
I’m pretty sure Ellis is still a thin-crust devotee at heart like his old-man, but watching him experience Chicago style for the first time was enough to burn that cheese-stretch into my memory bank forever.
Experiencing all those firsts every Friday night through the eyes of my kids unlocks an even deeper appreciation into the joy and magic of pizza.
“And that’s all I have to say about that.” -Forrest Gump
The Pie of My Life 