The orange coils hanging from the top of the oven starts to glow and the expanding red heat flows down atop the bubbling mozzarella and salami. The pizza on the upper sheet was put in 5 minutes ago, the bottom one 3 minutes ago. The next two dough balls were put out a minute ago, they should be stretched in a couple more. What about the toppings for the bottom pizza? Is there enough sauce and cheese? What about the veggies; the onions and mushrooms should be cooked before going on the pizza so they don't get the whole damn thing wet. Oh shit is the top pizza burned now? 'Guys, don't wait for me, start eating!' Really they should start, this is more fun anyways.
The process of pizza making leaves no attentional landscape untouched. When the oven is blasting and there are hungry mouths, it's go time. A loud, guitar heavy blues track; get this moving, get that going, heartbreak! A burned pizza, a great pizza. Onto the next one, how I love to see you go, how I loathe it so. Don't forget the last pizza for Paloma, the parmesan and egg, perched atop the final smashed dough ball, destined for destruction as we all are, recycled stuff.
Really, egg on pizza is amazing.