Ever since Mr. P made his first pizza, he’s been in a pizza craze. On weekdays, when we’re wondering what we should eat for dinner each evening, he will get excited if I say okay to home-cooked pizzas. He will scour the Foodland supermarket near his office for all the necessary ingredients and then lugged them home for his little kitchen adventure.
Our dear friend, ZL, had given us a convection oven two years ago, which we nicknamed “Cockroach” because the red lid looks like a smiling cockroach with its arching handle and two big knobs. We never really thought of using it to cook pizza until Mr. P was struck by this latest bout of culinary inspiration.