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I have very fond memories of Pizza Night.  Specifically, I remember the local Greek pizza restaurant we frequented when I was a kid. I’m not talking about the renovated, expanded version that moved in when I was in high school. I’m talking about the small, dark, tv on in the corner variety, complete with booths and a counter seating three.

Take out was fun because I, the awkward 10 year old as tall as most 14 year olds, would always get a wink from one of the two brothers who owned the shop. There was Tony and there was Paul…one of them was the front-of-the-house charmer and the other was always slinging pizzas in the kitchen.

Eat-in was fun because the Greek salad would arrive on a huge white platter with a giant slice of salty feta cheese on top. All of you from big families know what it’s like to be staring down a beautiful platter of food and wondering who’s going to get the first (and biggest) serving. Oh man does my mouth water just thinking about sneaking bites of that feta. A shake of oil and red wine vinegar on top was all it needed. Delish.

Today, pizza has a whole new meaning in our family. My honey runs the local pizza shop, started by his dad over 20 years ago.

“Do you ever get tired of pizza?”, you ask.

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Heck no!  Thin crust, Sicilian, pan pizza, pizza by the slice, New York style, Greek, Italian – and don’t get me started on toppings – who could get tired of pizza?

Sure, everyone is ready to go home at the end of the workday. But Pizza Night is here to stay.

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Last night’s pizza was made from store-bought dough in a seriously-well-seasoned pizza pan from the restaurant, topped with fresh pineapple, crispy turkey bacon, and a blend of cheddar and provolone cheeses.  H’s personally decorated mini cheese pizza was made on a lightly oiled piece of foil.  Both were heavily loaded with cheesy goodness this time.  And we like our pizza extra crispy!

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