![]() ![]() We just finished the 4-day hike through the mountains in torrential rain and finally made it to the sacred site. I vividly remember several buddies and I, physically exhausted and running on zero sleep, stumbling into a Peruvian restaurant in the tiny city of Aguas Calientes outside Machu Picchu. Note: If you're looking to make a pizza in a high-heat oven (wood-fired, Ooni, or Roccbox), check out my wood-fired sourdough pizza dough recipe → Sourdough pizza cooking in a home oven. And in the end, I’ll inevitably complain about it right after the first slice. Even if it’s at some strange fusion restaurant with nothing to do with Italian food, my meal companions can bet I’m going to order pizza. My ordering becomes myopic: the entire menu fades away right in front of me, and pizza is all that remains. When visiting a new restaurant, there's a real internal struggle when I spot pizza on the menu, especially if it's sourdough pizza dough. And pizza is a food I could conceivably eat at every meal without deviation. I've had endless different topping combinations but always fall back on classics: sometimes, I think the simplest things are the best. ![]() This detour was not because I was lazy and didn't cook but because it's hard to deny the call of a great pizza. On my way home from work, I'd stop in for a slice (or a whole pie) to sort out dinner. There were periods back when I lived near my dad's restaurant where I'd eat fresh pizza almost every other day. ![]()
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