God Bless America

Posted on July 9th, 2008 by admin

Since I’m still revelling in the celebration of our nation’s independence I thought it was time to elaborate a bit on the deep fried pizza that I mentioned in the Pyrotechnics post.

Yes, you heard me correctly. Well-you didn’t hear me but you know what I mean. Deep. Fried. Pizza. As if the calorie and fat laden pizza that we normally eat isn’t bad enough. I’m just really wondering what fat ass thought to himself, “Ya know what would make this greasy pizza even better? Frying it in more grease!” I mean really. I’m sure whoever came up with this idea is horribly fat, maybe even dead. Definitely dead. But I have to give the guy (I’m assuming it’s a guy) some credit. It takes real hard-core, American ingenuity to think of such a glorious dietary staple. It was delicious!

The Deep Fried Pizza stand was the very first thing that caught T’s eye at the Freedom Over Texas fireworks celebration. We passed by the stand and did the festival thing, but I know that deep fried pizza was on his mind the entire time. T absolutely loves pizza and enjoys things that are deep fried. It was a match made in heaven. I, on the other hand, could live without pizza. I like it but it’s not one of those foods that I absolutely have to have.

I guess there’s just something about festivals/fairs/whatever that brings out the need to deep fry. In March during the Rodeo-I noticed quite a few ‘deep fried’ food stands. Deep fried Twinkies. Deep fried Oreos. Deep fried Snickers. Deep fried just about everything. I didn’t indulge in any of those things. Then again, I probably wouldn’t admit it if I had. But something about deep fried candy bars makes me a little queasy. All I could think about was the hot grease mixing with the chocolate and caramel and white stuff inside the Twinkies. Eww… Oh and don’t forget the deep fried cheesecake! Apparently the most unhealthy foods are eligible for deep frying. You don’t see anyone deep frying apple slices or carrot sticks. That would just be too ironic.

Here’s a shot of the deep fried pizza that made it’s way into my belly and soon onto my love handles and butt.

Deep Fried Pizza

Luckily I had a paper plate help soak up some grease. The only thing that would have made it better would have been some ranch dressing for dipping. And by ranch dressing, I mean the full fat version. I don’t skimp.

Needless to say, T and I both enjoyed it. I’m sure T is sitting in his hotel room over in Nigeria drolling over this picture right now. It’s OK baby-you’re thunder thighs will thank you for laying off the deep fried pizza. At least until next year.

And I know T isn’t the only one drooling over this post right now. I think his Daddy-O will be dreaming about this pizza for weeks. I think it runs in the family.

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Shoutout: I have to say hi to my buddy Andrew who has been lurking here, but not commenting!! Andrew and I worked together last summer and became good friends. Once I left for Houston, we stopped calling-emailing-talking for some reason. But the fact that he’s rid himself of me makes me remember a picture I snapped of him. I probably should have asked for permission to use it-but I just didn’t feel like calling him.