The Pizza Hole Eater

Hello dear readers. I wanted to share a bit of my little slice of a life. It’s not my fault I was born to wealth and privilege, it’s the only life I’ve known. In particular, I’m quite pure in my love of perfect food. Luckily, I was born in New York City so like a species in its habitat my DNA told me to go bite and enjoy pizza, but my status (pronounced like “state-us”) said you are able to have the best of the best, so yes you’ve by now figured it out, I only ate the first triangular bite of each slice, enjoying only that perfect bit, so it took me on average five full pizzas to get enough of the “best part only” bites. The rest I was assured might sustain many a homeless souls if left on the sidewalk. We all must do our bit. 

Yes, British daddy. :)

How did I come to this wonderful gustatory practice? It’s because, though you might even doubt it or be surprised, I do actually go myself to Fairway grocery extravaganza on Broadway and 74^th every now and then. One must stay up to speed on the latest culinary offerings, or how else can you tell the staff what to get? And waiting in line to buy my one $50 tin of lovely Spanish saffron, since one does love one’s paella, there hanging over my head as I was checking out was the best street education one could ask for, a paragraph on a sign explaining that the term “upper crust” originated in those enlightened European lands where the rich were sold the superior top crust of the bread and the inferior bottom crust, destined to cook against the pan and not freely in the heated air, was sold to the poor. So the rich were the upper crust. And the poor were the part jammed down inside. 

Ahah! Now the truth be told, and I had found my soul family, those who could also obtain by their means the best part. Just like the triangular tip of a lovely slice of pizza pointing to me and saying bite here, this the best part is reserved for you and you alone, because you alone can truly value it. 

Now, the reason I decided to write this piece today is because I have come to a maturity. I’ve left my childish ways behind me and I’ve come to see the light from experience. The first step in my journey while I was still fairly young, is when I realized, I don’t have to take a dainty little bite of the tip. The quality found there goes pretty far up. I could take a honking big bite of the tip, that was practically half the whole slice. The geometries involved of surface area are quite interesting because that triangular bit is not very much surface, the pointiness of it implies less surface, and of course the angle of the cut influences, but I prefer to just go with the standard cut, especially as I found I could really jam a lot of it in for that one bite. So I am not so privileged that I would waste some of the very respectful main frontal triangle. 

And so that’s how I rolled through my teens. But then true maturity came. I realized, there is nothing non-elite about taking a second and third bite of this still tender middle section after the tip. And especially since I’d matured from needing to take such huge first bites, I could take a reasonable first bite and then a second to the right and a third to the left. And in fact, I could go from five pizzas to only three this way (and of course I donate half of the difference between five and three to the symphony fund). 

And one day it all became so clear when I placed all my bitten pieces back together in the box and like a puzzle solved, appeared a whole pizza with a hole in the center like a donut. And I had eaten the hole. As if some thief had come as the donuts were cooling, and eaten the centers leaving a hole in the donut…something which capitalists later marketed as donut hole’s (dang, missed that one, sorry Dad). 

And so it came to pass and dawned, I was a fully realized pizza hole eater. And I don’t think there are many who have both the insight and the means to enjoy the very best of the pizza and never look back. I think this is what they mean by living on the edge…or maybe in the center. 

The great insight of course is that I wasn’t a pizza first bite triangular eater, the slicing into triangles was only a means to an end. I was using geometry to actually eat a hole into the pizza one triangle at a time, for to take a whole pizza and try eat a hole into it’s middle directly would be very difficult and messy. Just imagine holding up the whole circle of pizza hanging sideways and trying to find the place to get that first bite right in the middle. It’s like a wall of delicious pizza frustration, you can’t, to use an old word, find purchase. Like a rock climber who can’t find a tiny jib. You can’t bite a wall, it’s unobtainable by the geometries of human mouth. If we had a beak or something, maybe. To be honest, I did try that and as my instincts had spoken inside me, that just doesn’t work, the nose gets all greasy and the cheese starts sliding down. I had innovated my own technique quite unaware, by pure instinct, the genius residing deep within me rather than the normal schooling and trying and failing so much. 

I considered making this a business and marketing pizza holes, but I don’t think the market is ready yet. We need to wait until the rich get richer and the poor poorer enough so that we can market the pizza holes to the elite who can afford them, and then the rest of the pizza sans hole to the commoners. If you know the economics of pizza as it is already, when that day comes it will be a glorious profit happiness. And what a way to get even richer giving the best to the best and the rest to the rest. 

Some without patience, would say just cook a small pizza and cut off the crust and sell that as a pizza hole. But there’s still an edge that gets cooked more and that protected center sensation is just not the same…this is impatient capitalism, void of true taste. We have to be purists and make a whole pizza to obtain that prized middle hole. We can wait. I didn’t finally mature at the age of 37 to finally figuring out the pizza hole glory to just waste the revelation impatiently. In the mean time before luxurious marketing campaigns to the rich, we can train a small cadre of elites how to enjoy this just for the love of it, and thereby slowly create our future market.

Hopefully the poor won’t find out and face sure frustration from having desire but no means.

I hope crypto breaks my way on this.

It does have pizza in it’s genesis story, when the first purchase by bitcoin was two pizza’s for 10,000 bitcoins. At today’s valuation of 69K per bitcoin that would be 690 Million for two pizza holes…or basically my whole net worth for one. That’s pretty funny. Hopefully it won’t break that hard…and shit I better get some bitcoin. My old money friends won’t like it, but ‘eff them, they don’t even get pizza holes and laugh at me when I try to explain it to them. Losers. No bitcoin pizza crust eaters. Hahahaha don’t even have a clue.