I’m not even a little bit sorry.
You know sometimes when you’re just doing your thing, like sweeping the living room floor and singing “Reflections” by the Supremes into the tip of the broom, and a random taste appears in your mouth out of nowhere, and you’re like WHAT IS THAT. WHAT. IS. THAT. And it’s not an actual taste, but it’s the memory of a taste? Like a little piece of the great nostalgic puzzle of life magically appears on your tongue, leaving you with nothing else to do but hyper focus on it and pinpoint the taste or else DAH?
It’s like the taste bud version of nostril scents! (Which I’m realizing is a horribly dumb sentence.) Like when you’re in the mall and you walk past a kiosk and you catch a tiny whiff of Cool Water cologne and it takes you back to a specific memory that’s been buried in the drawers of your cerebral cabinets for 20 years and you’re all, “OMG Jay Skinner totally wore that to the Sadie Hawkins dance at the high school gym on October 16th, 1993.”
Know what I mean?
Well it happened to me.
That taste . . . on my tongue . . . what is it . . . I think I have it . . .maybe it’s . . . wait a minute . . .
. . . I see visions of . . . birkenstocks . . . blue mascara . . . (IT’S LIKE MY TONGUE IS A CRYSTAL BALL, YOU GUYS) . . . raindrops on roses . . . whiskers on kittens. . . wait that’s not it . . .
. . . oh geez . . . oh wait I know this . . . oh! . . . OH YEAAAAH . . . I soooo got this . . .
And then the memory slaps the broom right out of your grasp and you can’t even finish your #1 hit song. Pizza Hut’s Meat Lover’s Pizza, GAAAAAAH.
And then of course once you RECOGNIZE the taste, it’s all you can do not to obsess over it, sending adorable texts to your husband, “I PLACED THE TASTE! I PLACED THE TASTE!” To which he responds, “good for you.”
Well and then ya just gotta make it happen. (Ignore my janky little slits. I think my car was on fire or something.)
So I made a meat-a-licious stromboli with Italian chicken sausages, pepperoni, diced green bell pepper and lots of torn provolone, because I am NOT ABOUT to disobey the great signs of life that appear as a memory on my tongue. Obvs.
I wish the taste would appear on my tongue again, times 40 kabillion google infinity.
You may now kiss the bride.
Italian Sausage and Pepperoni Stromboli:
What it took for 2 10-inch loaves:
* 1 pound pizza dough, cut in half
* 3/4 cup favorite marinara
* 3 links Italian sausage, casings removed (mine were actually flavored chicken sausages, so use your fave!)
* 20 pepperonis
* 1 medium green bell pepper, diced
* 4 slices provolone cheese, torn
* 3 Tbs. extra-virgin olive oil, divided
Preheat oven to 425.
Brown the sausages in a large skillet, until cooked through, 6 minutes.
On a lightly floured work surface, roll out each ball of dough until it looks like a 10 to 12-inch pizza. Spoon the marinara over each crust, leaving about an half an inch around the sides. Sprinkle the sausage over the marinara, followed by the pepperoni, followed by the diced green bell pepper, and lastly the torn cheese. No need for salt or pepper. The meats have plenty of flavor.
Now, lightly brush the edges with a little bit of the oil. Carefully roll up the pizza, forming a stromboli.
Transfer the ‘bolis to a rimmed baking sheet lined with parchment paper. Using a sharp knife, score 3 slits across the top of the stromboli, allowing steam to escape. I brushed a little more oil over the top, too. Makes it purty.
Bake for about 25 minutes, or until dough has browned on top and is cooked through.
Let sit for about 5 minutes, HAHAHAH RIGHT, slice and serve!