What’s for dinner?

I have no problem talking about my cooking experience. I don’t have any. Call it laziness. Being spoiled. Pampered. Whatever. I lived at home for 24 years and my parents did the cooking. Those are the facts.

Occasionally, if I were home by myself, I would boil some water and make macaroni and cheese, put a pizza in the oven or microwave some leftovers. And once, as a special Valentine’s Day favor, I cooked a dish of BBQ meatloaf and roasted red potatoes for my girlfriend (and it turned out surprisingly well). But that’s about it. I knew that I’d have to step up my meal-preparation game after moving into the apartment. I wanted to stay relatively healthy, so I wanted to be able to put together a basic meat-potatoes-vegetable meal.

And then, I moved in.

I had plates and silverware, cups and a working oven. I did not, however, have pots, pans or a microwave. What I did have was a pizza pan and a University of Michigan pizza cutter that plays Hail to the Victors.

In case my neighbors were confused, Michigan’s offense is still struggling to find the end zone. Instead, the fight song is being played in celebration of the cutter touching down on the crust for a third straight night.

Since pizza is my favorite food, I have mixed feelings about this development. It’s certainly not aiding my stay-healthy quest. It’s also not exactly an exercise in cooking. The whole “open oven, place pizza in oven” thing? I think I’ve got that down.

But I do love pizza. I mean, this is a childhood dream come true. I’m 99.9 percent sure I made a declaration—probably during one of the infamous dry meatball/carrot/potato dishes that I loathed as kid—that when I grew up, I’d have pizza for dinner every night of the week. Ha. Told you so!

Of course, now that I’m staring at my plate of fourth-night-in-a-row pizza, I’m starting to question my pre-teen self’s sanity. I love pizza and routine as much as anyone, but even I need some variety in my life.

The good news is, my mom is back in town. And, on her day off today, she volunteered to help me out with a few things, which I’m hoping will include a microwave and some cooking pans.

Pizza will always be a menu option at my place, but I’d prefer that the next time I hear Hail to the Victors I’m celebrating six points—not six toppings. Print this post