Ode to my Pizza Ode to my Pizza A pizza cannot be formulaed at as a separate piece of perfection. Only when you bet at each savory ingredient can you lavishly understand the peace, serenity and beauty that comes when immerseing a baseball track of pizza. The sausage: The gorgeous bone marrow that is processed by a large German woman named Helga. That smell of spot and m bury is heaven to a person like me, and loony bin to a vegan. Smelly plucks: Being grown in the mushroom composts of England is what gives a mushroom his/her distinguishable aroma. Most people hate mushrooms, that to me, they are just another addition to my fantasy pizza.
fantastic and spicy pepperoni: Made by an Italian store proprietor in Little Italy, New York. The red color gives thee a ?come hither? look. I weep for those old fogies who cannot eat thee because of the threat of a heart burn or two. acerbic green peppers: Sometimes you can by spicy, but when cooked, that consumer gets direct but a gush of your saturated skin, you fine vegeta...If you spurring to get a full essay, order it on our website:
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