An interview with Marco Pierre White

Smoking is not big or clever. You can bet that Adam Richman would not smoke.

These are exciting times at 12 Inch Pete Treat, and not because I am confirmed to go and work at shift at Dominos on my birthday this year with two top Page 3 girls flanking me and nibbling coquettishly at my spicy sausage (copyright Carry On Butcher, 1965). Nope, a mere several days after we – by which I mean Jon Horsley, estimable top brass at TV Bite, a much better site about food than this sorry shower of shite ever will be – managed to purloin for ourselves a fully exclusive interview with the living god that is Adam Richman from Man Vs Food, we – by which I mean Jon Horsley, estimable etc – have managed to do the same with Marco Pierre White, arguably an even bigger name in the culinary world. Although I personally would not make that argument. Adam Richman is THE MAN.

Gaze upon perfection, ye mighty

So here, in all its unedited glory, is our fully exclusive, world exclusive, 100% exclusive interview with top cheffing type Marco Pierre White, who my sources tell me is pretty handy with a whisk.

12 Inch Pete Treat: What’s your favourite pizza topping?

Marco Pierre White: I find that if they get the bread right, it doesn’t matter what’s on top of it. It’s all about the bread.

And that, ladies and gentlemen, is why we continue to get all the big names, all the time.

Filed under: Guest drops

An interview with Adam Richman

Firstly, allow me to apologise for the tardy running of this blog of late – I’ve been doing all manner of different things, including moving into my new home, dealing with a rather unpleasant bout of depression, becoming a top-tier battle rapper and generally living the life of a particularly miserable bull inside a strange and unfamiliar china shop.

Anyway. Regular visitors to this virtual pizzeria will know that I love the TV show Man Vs Food. I find its on-screen depictions of Stateside gluttony to be stimulating and comforting and they have, on occasion, even inspired me to do some cookery of my own, with spectacular results. The show’s presenter, Adam Richman, has become something of a hero to me. In fact, I want to be him.

A living god in human form

Well, baste my turkey and roll my meatballs if I haven’t gone and got an interview with him. Well, I say me – it was actually the esteemed journalist and friend of this blog, Jon Horsley, who purloined this exclusive chat with the man himself for me, so I would like to thank him and refer you to his own vastly superior food-related enterprise. Here, then, is the full transcript of the first 12 Inch Pete Treat interview with Adam “Man Vs Food” Richman.

12 Inch Pete Treat: What is your favourite pizza topping?

Adam Richman: Sausage. Or fresh garlic.

And there you have it. The questions that you all wanted answering, answered in the sparse, pared-down style of classic Elmore Leonard. I can tell you that this interview actually did happen and has appeared nowhere else on the web. Yep, another genuine exclusive for the blog for which, frankly, I’m starting to lose my enthusiasm.

Filed under: Uncategorized

Micky Worthless and budget pizzas

Pete’s note: One of the more happier happenings of my recent life has been my discovery of the Don’t Flop rap battle league, in which I am proud to say I have now become an active participant. I’ve made a great many friends through the league, too many to mention in detail, but one of the main ones is Micky Worthless, who is not just a brilliant battle rapper and very funny man, he’s also a thoroughly genuine and adorable bloke. Micky is unemplizzle – that’s “between jobs” to me and you – so I asked him to give me his guide to pizzas when there’s not much cash in one’s pocket. He did not disappoint…

This man is a genius

I was gonna take a picture of this pizza I was eating for lunch but forgot to until the last bite. It was nice. I got it half price at Tesco. I don’t normally buy the Pizza Express ones but I saw it on offer and thought “fuck it” and got it. Normally I buy Iceland pizzas because they have good variety for cheap money or Sainsbury’s do a BANGING stonebaked pizza for £1.60 so I normally go for the Chicken or Hawiian one of that.

This is some of the pizza that Micky had for lunch today

I eat pizzas way too much. I love them because they are easy and they taste good. You just throw it in the oven and BOOM. 15 minutes later you are eating a good old dinner. Buy some coleslaw for like 46p and a tin of macaroni and you are set for about £2.50. I eat pizza so much, I got embarrassed to eat in front of my flatmates. It was like a pizza habit I was trying to hide. Every time I was going in the kitchen, one of my flatmates would say “what you having for dinner Micky? Pizza?” and everyone would laugh. It was kinda funny at first then it got mad corny and played out but it kept coming up. I got so sick of that joke. Kinda like the Mexican jokes in my battles.

I never really liked Mexican pizzas. Chicken fajita pizza? Nah man, sounds like a mess to me. I don’t dig seafood either. I just read Cashmore’s entry about seafood though. He seems to like it! Barbecue sauce on pizza is okay, but it’s overrated.

Filed under: Guest drops, My favourite pizzas

Pete’s pizza entitlement rant

One of my great regrets about this blog is that, because of its general air of celebration and appreciation, I never get to use one of my favourite phrases, which is “you know what really makes my shit itch?” Brilliant phrase, that. Well, I’ve bided my time, lay in wait like a crocodile on the hunt, and now I get to use it.

You know what really makes my shit itch? The fact that you can’t get a decent seafood pizza anywhere in this day and age. I don’t know why, you just can’t. I could count the number of good seafood pizzas I’ve had in London on the fingers of my hands, and it’s certainly true that none of the major chains do a decent seafood pizza. Order a seafood from most delivery pizzerias and you’ll most likely get one with tuna, maybe prawns if you’re lucky, probably anchovies, and that’s your lot. It will be bland, it will be aggregational and it usually won’t be very nice.

Basically, this, but on a pizza

Regular visitors to this parish will remember that I recently made a seafood pizza myself, partly because I really fancied one, but mainly because I knew that I wouldn’t be able to order it in from anywhere. Upon it I had the very bare bones of a good seafood pizza – scallops, octopus and prawns. Had I really been pushing the boat out I would also have thrown some New Zealand green-lipped mussels on there, perhaps some cockles or whelks too. Aah, whelks. Anyway, THAT was a seafood pizza, a miniature riot of deceased shellfish all jostling for my affection. You will also notice that I hardly used any cheese – this is key in a seafood pizza. Mussels and cheese don’t really mix, unless it is in a delightful dish of moules farciés, which I mention solely to get across how very cultured I am.

The only decent seafood pizza I have had in living memory was at an Italian bar in Camden whose name escapes me. I ate it after a rap battle and ended up paying for Micky Worthless‘ dinner, but the financial blow was softened by a seafood pizza on which they had basically dumped an entire octopus. I may go back there and sample it again sometime – or maybe you can help. If you happen to live near a pizzeria that does a good seafood option, then I want to know about it, and if it happens to be in South London, so much the better. There’s a prize for the person who suggests the best one. I don’t know what it is yet, but it will be shiny and impressive. Alright, friends – seafood me up. To finish, here is a picture of me being scared by a small tarantula, for a bit of colour.

Spiders: terrifying

Filed under: Uncategorized

The new Pizza Hut Hot Dog Stuffed Crust dealt with accordingly

Pizza Hut have got to be taking the piss. Indeed, many people suspect that they are, the consensus among many being that their new base, the Hot Dog Stuffed Crust (and I don’t believe I have to explain the USP of this particular venture) was actually a hoax. Well, I knew that it wasn’t, because I knew about their last unique crust, the Crown, which consisted of tearable cheese-stuffed chunks interspersed with meatballs – when you can dream that up, why would you baulk at a crust stuffed with frankfurter meat?

I tried to eat it, I really did. But I am only human

I’m not going to dwell on the HDSC too much – too much has already been written about it elsewhere by minds more restricted in their thinking than my own when it comes to matters pizza. Suffice to say that it is disgusting – the sausage is plasticky and juiceless and has the texture of a dog chew, and its reflux-inducing rankness seeps into the dough such that even tearing off the crust (which really SHOULD have been just a hoax) doesn’t work. Normally, when I don’t finish a pizza, I pop it into the fridge to reheat for breakfast the next morning – well, I left my Hot Dog Stuffed Crust from Pizza Hut (topped with double cajun chicken and crispy bacon, both, for the record, also substandard) out on the front porch like a shamed cat. It was, and I am a man who very, very rarely uses this term in conjunction with a pizza, disgusting. And it cost me £18. This is the price of being London’s foremost pizza blogger, with apologies to the many who are better than me.

Why progress is wrong: Exhibit A

So. What WOULD make a good alternative stuffed crust? Here’s a few suggestions!
1) OVEN CHIPS. We live in miraculous times, where you can engage in jovial banter with your mobile phone and where Danny Baker is STILL allowed to ruin my Saturday morning radio listening with his breakneck-paced drivel-gush. So SURELY some boffin somewhere can come up with a way of making a crust that contains chips that emerge correctly cooked just as the pizza is ready? As an aside, I myself claim inventorship of the potizza – pizza sauce and toppings on a potato cake base. But people keep telling me it has been done.

2) CHIP SHOP STYLE CURRY SAUCE. I don’t believe I have to explain this one. Okay, it might not work with, for example, a seafood special, not that any fucker does any decent ones of that type anyway. But there are plenty of outlets who are trying their hand at tandoori and balti flavours nowadays. Mmmm, curry sauce crust!

3) DADDIES SAUCE. Quite simply, a match-up in Heaven waiting to happen, and if any of the major pizza outlets happen to be reading this blog – and I know they all are – then they need to get on this. Levi Roots and his Reggae Reggae tackle is all very well, but Daddies is a British institution. If this happens, and it will, I want royalties or a finder’s fee.

4) FOUR CHEESES. You’ve done it in a pizza topping, you can do it in a crust. But I don’t mean a blend – I mean an even dispersal. So you do it in an eight-slice serving, and you have two crusts with mozzerella, two with Cheddar, two with something mad like Stilton, and then two with that aggregational herby stuff they already put in the crusts. Again, finder’s fee.

5) SCRAMBLED EGG WITH CHORIZO. I am, I know, just dreaming now. Can you imagine how nasty that would be? Oh pizza, you dirty, DIRTY birdy!

6) CHILLI CON CARNE. Of all the options that I raised at the pub last night – and some of the rejected options included ‘onion gravy’, ‘spaghetti hoops’ and ‘batter’ – this one was the one that met with the most enthusiasm. Just imagine: “Hello, I’d like to order a large chilli con carne stuffed crust with spicy beef and jalapenos, please. Oh, and some onion rings.” Yumbags!

7) STUFFING. Thinking outside the box here. But what could be a better stuffing than actual stuffing? In a meaty pizza, it actually makes sense. So much so, in fact, that I’m not even going to finish with a joke. 12 Inch Pete Treat is not that kind of blog. When we’ve actually come up with a good idea, we just put it out there.

My considered overall verdict on the new Hot Dog Stuffed Crust from Pizza Hut

Filed under: Pizzeria reviews, Weird stuff from the pizza world

The pizza and the damage done

It's a Neil Young reference, you see

There comes a time in every man’s life when he has to wake up and smell the coffee-flavoured pizzeria dessert item. For me, that time came this week when, as I showered myself down at Cashmore Acres one mild spring morning, I looked in my bathroom mirror and what looked back at me looked rather like that famous Baby Bird album cover. And, for those of you who are too young to remember who Baby Bird are – which I’m assuming is most of you – that album cover looked like this.

Me, yesterday

Yes, my slavish devotion to having a pizza every five days without fail has taken its toll on my otherwise perfect physique and I have become, in the parlance of the common man, a big fat fucking bastard. So I have decided to abandon the pleasures of the dough for a while in favour of wholemeal pasta and rice, chorizo and extra cheese will be replaced by chicken and fish, and chockarocka chunkychocka chockablocka chickachocka pie and all its variations will be replaced by two fingers jammed down the throat.

Of course, you can’t just expect a heroin addict to merrily descend into cold turkey with a smile on his face. It’s just not an option. So, last night I decided to enjoy my last pizza for a while, and enjoy it I did. I pulled out all the conceptual stops with this one, and went for  a chicken, spicy beef and jalapenos on a medium barbecue stuffed crust base with sun-dried tomato sauce from a local company who shall remain Dominos. And if you’re reading that back and thinking, “Criminy, that sounds rather delicious, actually!” then I can tell you that you are not wrong. It really was.

My idea of a two-course meal

As you can see from the above photo, I chased it down with a bottle of fancy Rioja that probably really isn’t that fancy at all, it just happens to come in a sack and so idiots like me think it’s posher than it is, and coincidentally, I am also knocking the wine on the head for a while too, mainly because I am participating in a rap battle next weekend (stop sniggering at the back – and indeed, everywhere else) and I want to do so with a clear head and functioning short-term memory, but also because I am moving flat next week and I’m not going to even be able to afford extra-long straws with which to slurp the pooling dregs from the bottom of bottle banks.

All this being the case, I would like to present this last pizza as the first, and maybe only, example of the Pre-Abstince Property Acquisition Pizza, or PAPA-P for short. PAPA-Ps can only be consumed when the pizza-lover is about to forego the object of his or her affection for a while, AND when he or she or they has just secured a fancy upscale new pad into which they must imminently move. Upon which subject, I need to hire one of these if anyone can recommend a local chap with reasonable rates.

I want one of these and a man to drive it, basically

Filed under: Uncategorized

Pete vs Food presents… The Baguette Of Shame

This one's for you, Big Papa

HI THERE PIZZA BLOG FANS!

So. As you all know by now, I love Man Vs Food. I love it a lot. And I love that I am still finding new episodes to watch, like the one I saw on Dave last night, which was in Florida. One of the features was about a sandwich joint in Sarasota (nope, me neither) that basically created subway sandwiches so stuffed with nutritional evil that they would… Well, make me want to make one.

And so I made one.

I was actually in a bit of a TTWOAPWD mood anyway, but I decided to forego the pizza in favour of something a bit more ridiculous. So I went out and bought: a large baguette, a tin of Fray Bentos meatballs in tomato sauce, a small tin of Heinz macaroni cheese and some mozzerella shavings. And with those ingredients, in the spirit of and in tribute to last night’s Man Vs Food, I composed what I am calling THE BAGUETTE OF SHAME.

The ingredients

And as you can see, the whole lot cost less than a fiver. Unless you are adding the wine, for the cheapness of which I can only offer my profuse apologies.

Step 1: Turn on your grill. Heat up half of the meatballs and the macaroni cheese in separate saucepans.

Step 2: Slice off, slice open and flatten down half of the baguette. Give it a liberal coating of tomato pasta sauce, which, if you are me, you already have in the fridge.

Step 3: Coast with the now-heated macaroni cheese.

Step 4: Add a layer of meatballs in tomato sauce.

Step 5: Sprinkle liberally with mozzerella shavings and season with (if you are me) red pepper sauce.

Step 6: Place under hot grill.

See this? This is what perfection in action looks like.

Step 7: Put saucepans in a bowl of hot soapy water to soak. DO NOT WASH THEM UP YET. Or else that defeats the point.

12 Inch Pete Treat always reminds you of the human cost of food preparation

Step 8: Remove from grill when cheese starts to brown and bubble.

Oh, come on! Just look at that! Baby, you are NASTY!

Step 9: Eat the motherfucker. And drink the wine that you have close to hand, obvs.

Bermuda shorts: chef's own

This being a tribute to Man Vs Food, it would be remiss of me to say that I didn’t finish The Baguette Of Shame, it was a bit too hefty for me to put away in one go. But it would also be remiss of me to fail to note that it was ABSOFUCKINGLUTELY AMAZING. As, indeed, is anything that has meatballs on it. And yes, I know this technically has nothing to do with pizza. So sue me. 12 Inch Pete Treat is a blog that grows and evolves, verily like the bubbles that expand and pop on the top of a Franco Manca pizza.

Adam Richman,wherever you are right now and whatever you’re eating, this is my salute to you.

Filed under: How to...

Introducing the concept of The Time When Only A Pizza Will Do

I have come to realise in my time doing this blog, which continues to shock and provoke with every new entry, that there are some times when only a pizza will do of an evening. With that in mind, I have created an entirely new concept, that of The Time When Only A Pizza Will Do, or TTWOAPWD for short. It’s pronounced “tertwope-wudder” in case you were wondering.

I had one last night. I had a TTWOAPWD and so I indulged it by dialling up my friends in Streatham and ordering this…

The pizza that I ordered last night, who now lives in my stomach

…which is a medium stuffed crust from Dominos with chorizo, chicken and extra cheese, which I then dusted with Cajun spices because that, my nizzles, is how I roll. As I nibbled away at its cheesy finery, I expunged all doubts and feelings of dietary guilt from my mind. This, after all, was a TTWOAPWD – that pizza and its smooth transition into my digestive system was as inevitable as the coming of the night, the rising of the sun the next day, and the bottle of Shiraz that washed it down. What was I supposed to do on a TTWOAPWD? Make myself a tuna pasta bake?

So, what makes a TTWOAPWD? I would say that a combination of at least three of the following factors:

1) Personal or emotional upheaval. And there has been plenty of that recently – indeed, by the time the next instalment of this sporadic blog comes up, I expect to be writing it in a new home, as the delights of Tulse Hill grow worn and tattered before my very eyes. Call me a snob, but there’s only so much dogshit I can take.

A man experiencing personal upheaval, last night

2) A bad day at the office. A classic influencing factor in any TTWOAPWD and one that should be familiar to those members of what I call “la cosa pizza nostra” everywhere.

3) The desire to pamper oneself. Because what could be more pampering, more self-loving, then kicking back on a chaise longue, ordering a pizza such as the one depicted above, and getting gently pissed over a couple of episodes of Game Of Thrones? I can honestly only think of masturbation.

4) A general all-pervasive air of sadness. I have this all the time so technically every night should be a TTWOAPWD, but I just don’t think my heart would take the strain.

A man exhibiting an all-pervasive air of sadness, last week

5) Withdrawal. When I gave in to the call of the TTWOAPWD last night, it was my first pizza for over a week, including self-constructed ones, and well, it’s obvious that that kind of nonsense isn’t going to sustain itself.

6) Big Life Decisions playing on one’s mind. Sometimes, it’s nice to switch off the brain when it has much to occupy it, and give it some rest. Well, the simple decision to get a pizza is like providing the tired mind with a doughy, cheese-coated pillow on which to gain sweet repose, which should be one of the ultimate aims of the TTWOAPWD.

Well, by my reckoning I scored 4.5 out of 6 for the above criteria, which more than qualified me for indulging in a TTWOAPWD, and I’m happy to report that it was one of the very finest. I was slightly weirded out by the fact that I tweeted the Dominos UK Twitter account to ask them for suggestions as to what I should have and they got it exactly right though. That rather suggests that they are watching me and listening to my calls. They’re probably reading this. I’d better stop now. But before I do, here’s a picture from Game Of Thrones. You need to get on this if you haven’t already. As a last word, I’d like to send out a big shout-out to Ben Hughes, a blogger right up there with the very best of them. He reads this blog and I’m very proud to know him. 12 Inch Pete Treat is all the richer for his support. *waves at Ben*

He's frowning because pizzas haven't been invented yet

Filed under: Uncategorized

It’s here: the barbecue stuffed crust from Dominos, y’all!

I feel like I have let you down. I really do. Because this week something new, something momentous, something motherfucking EPOCHAL hit the pizza world, and I didn’t even know it was coming. In fact, if I hadn’t gazed idly upon my Twitter feed at about 4.45 in the PM on Monday, I would never even have known. I would never have known to discharge my work responsibilities as quickly as I could, nor to sprint to the station as fast as my corpulent dough-swollen legs could carry me. I would never have known to push people out the way, hurl myself through the door of the first train south, and bribe the driver to go barreling through red signals to get me home faster. Basically, on Monday, I had no idea that Dominos were unveiling a new, barbecue and mozzerella stuffed crust on that very day. And I call myself a pizza blogger with an ear to the grapevine? I’m a fraud.

She is giving me evils because I am a fraud

Anyhoo, self-loathing aside, I was straight back to Cashmore Acres and on the blower to my local branch of D-Spots (that’s my cool hip-hop nickname for Dominos, which I have just this second come up with and never used before in my life) to test out this new crust of theirs. To insure myself lest it turn out to be a disaster, because heck, some ideas just sound better on paper than they do in the real world, I ordered a medium with spicy sausage and beef, and then popped open a Shiraz to wish it down. And within the stated half hour, this bad boy showed up.

My first ever barbecue stuffed crust pizza

Well, at the risk of starting to sound like some kind of brainwashed Dominos cult member who works 20 hour days in the communal fields harvesting chorizo all day for the good of the community, they really have hit the ball out of the park with this one. Chiefly because, well, it’s a stuffed edge pizza with barbecue sauce and mozzerella in it, what could possibly have gone wrong? Just look at it. Look at its sensual response to the Cashmore pinch. And look at that juicy sweet beef too. And who’s that peeking in coyly from both sides? Why, it’s Mister Sausage!

Squeeze me, for I am good

So, yeah. Completely fucking amazing, 10/10, pizza delivery will never be the same again, etc. But just to confirm that I am absolutely positively not in the pay of Dominos, here is an image to end things that will once and for all confirm my absolute impartiality. Barbecue stuffed crust, people. The future is now.

We will not be accused of favouritism

Filed under: My favourite pizzas

Pizza and a box set: The brilliance of The Wire, and my presence in it

Bubbles: has troubles

This one is going out to Luke Mackay, who can probably make a better pizza than I ever will.

Last month, for a variety of reasons, I was more or less forced into doing something drastic, and joining a gymnasium. I’m not happy about it, but them’s the breaks. I am also cycling to work a lot too, and not eating as much pizza, hence the rather scattered nature of recent postings hereon. Anyway, what all this exercise means is that I am usually spark out by about 10pm, and also rather knackered when I get home from work. So knackered am I, on occasion, that I don’t want to cook, as was the case last night. And last night, after a few good weeks of restraint, I folded, and got Dominos on the blower. And then I put on season one of The Wire, a dinner/DVD decision which was taken by many of my peers to be a good one (see below).

Praise for my decision to get a pizza and watch The Wire

I love The Wire. I know it’s a cliché nowadays to say it’s the best TV show in the entire history of ever, but some clichés, of course, become clichés because they stem from a kernel of absolute truth. The Wire really is that good, and in loving it as I do, I am simply exhibiting basic good sense and taste. But there’s another reason why I love it, which is that YOU CAN SEE MY WORK ON SCREEN IN EVERY SERIES OF THE WIRE. Yes, in a roundabout way, something that I wrought with my own fair hands, appears in every series of The Best TV Show That Ever There Was.

Jimmy McNulty: judgment sometimes faulty

Okay, to explain. Regular visitors to this virtual pizzeria will know that my first job was as a sub-editor, and then as a deputy editor, on a porn magazine, specifically Club magazine for the US market. You may even recall that, for a time, I was the ghost writer for Jenna Jameson, and, given the amount of hits that the merest presence of her name generated for this tinpot organisation the last time I mentioned her name, I am happy to reiterate this point once more.

I was there when we did this photoshoot!

Now, in the grand scheme of porn magazine things, Club magazine came a very distant fourth place behind the Big Three of Playboy, Penthouse and Hustler, none of whom actually consider themselves to be porn magazines, bless them. Club was very much the leader in a chasing pack that included the likes of Swank, High Society, Cheri, Genesis, and crikey, I really am trolling for blog hits now.

Carver and Herc: puttin' in work

We may not have sold much, but one thing Club was very good at was getting ourselves product placement in films and TV shows – our team aggressively targeted film studios and TV companies to let them know that, if they needed adult magazines as a prop for a scene, Club would be happy to furnish them with all the copies they needed, something which the Big Three apparently refrained from doing. As a result, you can see copies of Club festooned about the place in the likes of Knocked Up, The 40 Year Old Virgin… Indeed, in Little Miss Sunshine, when the camper van is pulled over by a cop and he finds a stash of porn magazines in the trunk, he picks up a copy of The Best Of Club that I compiled, and you can quite clearly make out the cover line ‘Janine Shakes It In Your Face’ – and that’s one of mine! Likewise, when Michael Madsen is killed in Kill Bill 2, he falls over and knocks over a huge pile of Club magazines in his trailer. The top one falls open at the Up Front section, a porn news round-up WRITTEN BY ME – it’s at 1:37 on the clip to which I have linked.

Dead Michael Madsen and some smut that I wrote

Anyway. One of the TV shows who embraced the presence of Club magazine the most enthusiastically was The Wire – it’s up there in every series, and indeed I once asked the show’s creator David Simon about its recurrence and he revealed that it became a bit of a running gag in the show. I hesitate to ever use the phrase “how cool is that?” but HOW COOL IS THAT? Anyway, the long and short of it is that every issue of Club magazine that is featured in The Wire comes from my spell as deputy editor, when one of my duties was the writing of pithy, amusing, often distressingly pun-laded lines for the cover. So when, in season one, Herc is seen reading a copy of the magazine while on a stake-out, that’s my work you can see there being clutched by his meaty mitts. In season two, when dockers’ union boss Frank Sobotka’s flabby sidekick Horseface is seen leering at a copy, he is leering at something WHAT I MADE. Seasons three and four see Jay Landesman reading well-thumbed copies around his office, well-thumbed because MY PUNS WERE SO BLOODY GOOD. And it also features in season five, although I can’t for the life of me remember where, because that’s my least favourite season. Everybody knows that journalists aren’t that noble.

Omar Little: indeed

So there you have it. The Wire, and my tenuous but not completely unremarkable presence in it. All that remains is to report that I accompanied the first two episodes of season one with a medium stuffed crust with chicken and spicy beef from Dominos and it was ace – the base was as thin as I think as I’ve ever had on a stuffed crust, while the crust itself was extravagantly plump and oozing piping herby cheese. Simple pleasures, dear pizza lovers, simple pleasures.

To finish, lest we forget what this blog is all about, here's the pizza I had last night

Filed under: Movie And A Pizza, Uncategorized, Weird stuff from the pizza world