Pizza is one of few foods for which I will risk third degree burns of both the mouth and esophagus.  As soon as I open the box and locate the slice with the most ample crust, I’ve got it dangling above my mouth, scalding cheese be damned.  The crust is by far my favorite part, and it alone can make or break a pizza.  I cannot fathom why some people think of the crust as merely a handle used to transport the pizza to their mouths, ceasing to eat once they reach that sweet spot where sauce and cheese meets bready bliss.

Pizza delivered to your door is one of life’s simplest pleasures, but leftover pizza can leave a lot to be desired.  There’s always the option of eating the leftovers for breakfast, cold and straight from the box, but I crave the smells and textures of a freshly delivered pie.  When years of college dorm living taught me that microwaves turn pizza crusts to rubber, I found my solution in the oven.