Who doesn’t love pizza? It’s a versatile, economical, accessible, delicious pan of food. How bout we grab a slice and see how far we can stretch the cheese while we talk about it?
I did not grow up eating pizza. My hometown was a small traditional Southern town with only a handful of restaurants, which we rarely visited. My family did not cook pizza. There was no pizza delivery. As a child, I had never tasted pizza. Then, in my high school years, Pizza Inn arrived in town. It quickly became a place for all of us teenagers to congregate. The only thing was, I tasted pizza, and I didn’t like it.
Picture this, hordes of teenagers crowded around tables, in booths, and sitting doubled up with each other, waiting for 1 or 2 or 3 or how ever many pizzas to be dropped onto the table. As soon as the pizza landed, a frenzy of hands reaching out to grab slices, some put on plates, some headed directly into open mouths. When the pizza arrived, any hesitation on your part likely meant there was no pizza left for you. When in Rome…I joined into the pizza madness, grabbing whatever piece I could. The mistake I made, not once, but every time I joined in, was shoving the pizza directly into my mouth. Blazing hot. I burned the roof of my mouth every single time. It hurt, and the pain lasted for days.
Most people, if they hurt themselves, recognize the problem, and try to correct it. I, on the other hand, went along with it. It seemed to me that everyone liked pizza, and I thought it tasted ok. But, it also seemed to me, that the cost of eating pizza was mouth pain. Everyone else was eating hot pizza, and no one else was complaining. So, I figured that I could do it, too, but I didn’t really like it. It never occurred to me that I could let the pizza cool, or find out why no one else was complaining about burning the roof of their mouths. I silently suffered.
Years wiser, I realized what a dumb bunny I had been, and I learned to eat pizza safely. I learned to enjoy pizza very much. I haven’t burned the roof of my mouth in umpteen years, I’m proud to say. And, I think of pizza as a yummy food, but also an interesting vehicle of compromise. Compromise, you say? Yes, compromise.
Compromise: to come to agreement by mutual concession --Merriam Webster
Think about it, for the most part, excluding personal pan pizzas and pizza by the slice enterprises, a pizza is shared by several people. What is the universal question asked when planning for pizza? What do you want on the pizza? It’s a blank canvas. You can put almost any topping or combination of toppings on pizza. It’s different than, say, a pot of spaghetti. When cooking spaghetti, you might ask whether someone wants mushrooms or not, but you don’t ask for a complete list of ingredients that they want to put in the pot. At a salad bar, you might select individualized choices and toppings for your salad, but the salad is designed for one person, not shared. There probably are some other examples of shared foods that require collaboration between parties, but, I’m focusing on pizza right now.
If you and you cohorts are like-minded, it’s probably easy to order pizza. Everyone likes the same thing, and that’s what you order, e.g., pepperoni and mushroom all day. But, what happens when the vegetarian joins the group? If everyone likes the veggie supreme, what happens when someone who can’t eat onions joins the crowd? If you can’t eat sausage, would you let me add black olives? How do you settle on pizza toppings when you have a group of people with different likes, and sometimes, specific restrictions? You might roll your eyes at the person who doesn’t like anchovies, but, how do you react to the person who has a strong allergy to green peppers? How in the world does anyone ever order pizza to appease everyone? Compromise!
In the spirit of good food and good times, people compromise. You might not get every single topping that you want, but you get toppings that you can enjoy. Often times, I find that I taste a new combination that I would never have thought of, and, guess what? I like it! Combining my likes with other people’s likes can actually produce something memorable. Who’d a thunk it?
I know compromise can be hard, and it’s sometimes described as no one getting what they want, and everyone being disgruntled. But, I think that is a harsh description of compromise. I think, instead, of compromise as being a gateway to trying something outside of your wheelhouse. Other people have opinions that are just as valuable as yours, and, if you stop and listen to them, you might just learn something important. But, remember, it might take a while, because the roof of your mouth might get burned a little. It might take a while before you understand how to integrate the new information into your understanding of life.
So, what to do with all those people who have different views on life, different restrictions, different wants and needs? Perhaps, we should order a pizza. We should think about sharing a pizza with them. What toppings do we want? What toppings do they want? How can we craft a pizza that we could all enjoy? Are you getting as hungry as I am? What about you? Would you rather order a personal pizza to get exactly what you want? Or, would you consider sharing a pizza with me? I’ve got a coupon for 40% off a large 2-topping pizza.
What do you want on the pizza?
I love this!! I really enjoy reading your blogs and this pizza compromise is a very valuable, teachable lesson for kids too! I’m going to use it on mine