This is a non-complex post about pizza and memories.
The picture below is my creation of a pizza, prepared with my own bare hands, only to be devoured in a matter of minutes. What can I say – it was scrumptious.
I’ve started a tradition of making pizzas on Friday nights, which is the perfect time to zone out while catching up on my favourite TV shows. A reward for vigorously scrubbing the bathtub and cleaning the house.
Nostalgia. This new tradition’s reminded me of the time my friends and I used have mafia marathons every Friday night when I lived in Israel about eight years ago. This involved getting together and eating pizzas while watching the Godfather movies.
Whoever thought pizza could create a special and permanent memory?
Signing off –