Thanksgiving: Pizza Pizza Pizza

I made pizza last night out of the dough I made the other night. And then made some more dough and made another pizza. It wasn’t that great as I used cheddar cheese and not mozzarella, but the basic dough base came out well, so I am happy. I have decided that the extra effort to make things from scratch is worth it, in terms of being cheap, and earth-friendly. Plus, the less processed the food the better right? And my son helped to roll out the dough for the pizza, spread the sauce, and sprinkle the cheese on. He didn’t eat more than a bite though (he had already eaten a bowl of spaghetti hoops at nursery for his tea) but my husband and I ate it and it was fine. Not good (I have to sort the toppings out) but fine.

I also took a boiled egg and cucumber sticks to work today and it was the best part of my packed lunch. I think it is easier to grab ready meals (which I also did today) but my goal is to try to plan meals so I can make stuff from scratch as much as possible.

We have an allotment too that we got in September and have not done a lot with so far (no time really and it’s almost winter) but I am looking forward to taking my son up there and growing things and then making food from what we grow. I think as a culture (i.e. UK/USA/western) we have lost touch with the roots of our food and with what a blessing food actually is.

I was trying to tell my son about Thanksgiving the other day (as he is half-American) but I didn’t actually know the Thanksgiving “story” (I know the actual story, as I have an MA in U.S. History, but not the mythologized version they tell American kids). I muddled my way through something about “Columbus and the Pilgrims” before telling my son that we should be thankful for what we have: each other, a roof over our heads, and food to eat. I asked him what he was thankful for and he said “my bath.” I told him that a warm bath was a very good thing to be thankful for.

It is hard to remember all the people who have less than we do. It is hard to imagine a life other than the one you have. Making homemade pizza won’t change that. But I’m thankful for my homemade pizza and for the fact that I have a little boy to make it with.