gay pizza

It’s fucking Monday, how completely dreadful, and to make matters worse, I have a hangover. The weekend seemed to have happened upside down, whilst I had a few pints with my bro and Al on Friday I was home by 10, already my weekend was ending. I attempted to recreate a donor kebab using a lamb chop, which was carefully sliced and seasoned and added to a pitta with fresh chilli, garlic and mixed leaves with a blob of mayo. Bastard didn’t quite work so I resigned myself to a bottle of wine which was enjoyed in front of a progressively pixilated game of snooker. I rounded my Friday off with a miniature rock-out session. By 3am I was asleep.

Saturday was written off, I poked some kipper into my face in front of an old Top Gear on Dave and staggered off to the superstore for the usual Saturday bout of consumerism. Saturday night was meant to be dinner with Myfwt, her sister and bro-in-law, the latter is turning 40 next week, poor sod, but his Friday meal at St. John’s had caused him malaise and Myfwt took it on herself to perform auntie duties for their nipper. Her intention was to return home later but she had drunk too many wines to drive…oh well. Fortuitously Frank was about and we were able to slot in a couple of impromptu ales at the local. This was most agreeable and I arrived back home in fine cheer fully perpetuated by the lack of a stinking great Cunt below my perfumed feet poisoning silence with his babooness.

And it was on this Saturday night that I invented ‘Proletariat Pizza’.

I’d been thinking about this for a while, how to make a fairly convincing pizza quickly and without much effort. This night I cracked it, and I’m going to pass the recipe on. Dead simple, mix tomato puree, olive oil, garlic, Tabasco with herb de Provence (bear with me) season and spread like butter on one side of lightly toasted pitta bread. Here it would be pretty much up to you to decide topping, but you can fuck off, it’s my recipe so do as follows. Cover the tomato base with ham, not thick cheap lumps of dead reformed pig, off the bone thinly sliced stuff as it crisps up in a most congenial manner, then sprinkle over this finely chopped spring onion and cover the whole shooting match in grated cheddar AND Parmesan (Parmigiano Reggiano specifically, anything else tastes like sick after drugs) and grill the fuck out of it.

The result is a pizza with a crispy base, doughy middle and a topping that will have you punching air as you chew and hum your approval… so good was it that I made it last night for Myfwt, it takes 10 minutes from start to finish. Bon appetite.

I got up lunchtime Sunday and made breakfast, Myfwt joined me and we set off at 2pm for the National Gallery. We met Andrea outside and went in to see the Art of Light: German Renaissance stained glass exhibition. Small but perfectly formed it was a fascinating, albeit, tiny, peek at stained glass’ heyday. Of particular interest to me were the drawings by Hans Baldung Grien and the wood engravings (incorrectly cited by the gallery as woodcuts) by Albrecht Durer, that had subsequently been used as models for glass panels. After a good beak we three departed and by 5pm we were in a small bar off Berwick Street supping wines and eating a board of olives, hummus, feta, prosciutto and chorizo. We were joined later by Sal and after a few bottles we four wandered through the murky neon blown back streets of Soho to arrive at an electric blue gay bar where we crept into a booth and ordered more drinks. This place was wonderful; Barbie and Ken dolls are tastefully attached to the ceiling, pretty gay men softly talking and caressing one another in soft blue black light. The toilets, ambiguous to gender, were so ridiculously clean and tastefully decorated they might as well have been in a lifestyle magazine. My three friends were the only females in the whole bar and I should imagine that I was the only straight fellow, however, the atmosphere was so congenial that complete strangers chatted to us, a couple of very well to do lads on leaving to bar hugged Myfwt and I as we smoked outside.

Needless to say by this time we were rather drunk and by 10 or so on our way home after avoiding temptation to do on elsewhere by Sal who was ready for a big fat night on the tiles. By 11 Myfwt was in bed the worse for wear, despite this, I made her Prol Pizza and we watched Jamie Oliver, he was doing stuff, fuck knows what, I could barely see.

Oh, I’ve the shits by the way… more shiss actually. Shizzy

This is fun, a nice piss-take.

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24 responses to “gay pizza

  • roszs

    That does sound tasty, but surely ‘proletariat’ pizza would be more like:

    – slice of white bread
    – spread with tomato puree
    – bung some cheddar on top
    – grill

    Yours is more like ‘middle class pizza substitute which only takes 10 minutes if you have lots of quite posh ingredients in your cupboard’.

    Maybe?

  • mostlylouche

    Shouldn’t it be tomato ketchup?

  • roszs

    It should. And it should be a slice of processed cheese rather than cheddar.

  • Swineshead

    They can’t afford white bread. They use their hand.

  • piqued

    Bless you all; the word ‘proletariat’ derives from the use of pitta rather than a proper base, puree as opposed to a prepared sauce, ham instead of parma and Cheddar over Mozzarella.

    The ‘pizza’ you are describing can’t be remotely be called pizza… why? Because I said so, yeah

  • roszs

    Surely the word ‘proletariat’ originally started as a derogatory term for the poorest members society, until co-opted by Marx to mean more generally the manual working classes? Either way they probably ain’t got no Parmigiano Reggiano and Herb de Provence in their cupboards.

    So ner.

  • roszs

    sorry, should read ‘poorest members of society’.

    That makes more sense, sort of.

  • piqued

    …but just because you’re poor it doesn’t mean you have to eat processed rubbish. Indeed, pizza began life as peasant food

    What I meant by ‘Prol Pizza’ was to imply that it was a downmarket version of the real thing, doesn’t mean it has to be made with cheap ingredients…

    U BLUDDY SNOB

  • roszs

    I’m no snob mister, I was just pointing out that if you haven’t got much money you probably haven’t got parmesan in the fridge.

    I haven’t got much money and I haven’t, so therefore it is TROOF.

    U CANT HANDLE DA TROOFS YEAH.

  • piqued

    …so long as you’ve good ol cheddar we can call it ‘double prol pizza’, especially for you

    *MWAH*

  • roszs

    Thanks mate.

    *starts class war*

    *makes sure piqued’s back is first against the wall*

  • piqued

    HAY I AM GLAD COZ I DUN WANT 2 GET BUMED BY THE POORZ

  • mostlylouche

    It should be a dairylea cheese triangle. Or some elderly cheese strings that have been to school in a lunch box a few times but never eaten.

  • piqued

    Know weigh, y-air

    eye mayk der rewls hear

  • Mr Chipz

    I was going to mention the whole Proletariat Pizza thing but I’ve been beaten to it. It’s not proletarian in the slightest…look at you with your ‘ham off of the bone’ and chedder and some la-de-da parmesan! Christ! You bourgois PIG! Come the revolution son…COME THE FUCKING REVOLUTION!!! *upsets a table and stands on a chair wearing overalls waving bits of paper around*

    *shot by secret police*

  • Swineshead

    It’s actually a lazy-alcoholic-bachelor-with-false-sense-of-status pizza.

    Roszs, Sam and Chipz are CORRECT.

  • piqued

    Yeah, well I ain’t changing NUTHIN’ FOR NO-ONE

    *rides off into the sunset*

    *gets bummed by Heath Ledger*

  • piqued

    (btw, whatever you fucks wish to call it (despite a perfectly adequate name with an irrefutable explanation of it’s etymology) it’s fucking acers)

  • Napoleon Cockaparte

    Watching an old episode of Top Gear on Dave, eh? I gave that a shot, but there’s only so many times I can watch them trying to find the perfect driving road or race across Europe in a plane vs. a Bugatti Veyron. Surely Dave (or ‘The BBC’ to give it its real name) has access to more than a few episodes of Top Gear? I watched just about fuck-all else over Christmas, and must have seen that plane race one about eight times. The bastards.

  • piqued

    Agreed. I’ve seen them all loads of times too, but when one is feeling a bit hungover it’s still worth it

    Dave shows lots of Channel 4 shows too…

  • Napoleon Cockaparte

    Which have been bought by the BBC. That UKTV lot (including Dave) are all owned by the BBC … robbing shithouses making money out of adverts when they’re supposed to be non-commercial. Thieving bastards etc.

    And why the hell’s Dave bought Who’s Line Is It Anyway …?? This show was atrocious the first time around (Josie Lawrence ruined my teenage years and what-have-you). Bastards.

  • piqued

    …Whose Line is it anyway features Anderson with hair… I can’t cope with that.

    I’d forgotten about Colin Mockery as well, that man carries suicidal gloom in his eyes

  • Swineshead

    Piqued – did Heath top himself because of your rancid anus?

  • piqued

    Yes, there’s a turn up for the books, I mention Heath and he doggone goes and turns up his Hollywood toes.

    I wonder if it will work with anyone else?

    *cough*

    *cough*

    Tom Cruise

    *cough*

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