Elise's Pizza

It's a well known fact, or at least it should be, that my girlfriend makes excellent pizza. But due to the variety of conditions and kitchens she makes pizza in, it can be a very different dish from time to time. For reasons beyond our understanding, this one was the best ever.

The yeast didn't seem particularly hungry, as the dough didn't rise much at all. I suggested that we start over, but Elise consulted her pizza intuition, poked it, and said "No. It's still alive."

Whatever the reason, this crust turned out expertly thin and crunchy. I was in charge of the sauce, but found myself with little more than a can of (good) tomatoes to work with. When she wasn't looking, I decided to stretch out the flavor by cheating with some of my roommate's accoutrements: a few drops of fish sauce, and something called "Texas Pete." Confusingly, she said that it was the best sauce I'd ever made. Though I was disturbed by the mysterious powers of the pre-fab condiments, I accepted the compliment.

The only downside to having eaten the best pizza we've ever made is that we'll never be able to get it right again.