Gotta have that pizza pie

It finally happened.

After years of health warnings concerning the foods we eat – red meat increases the risk of developing cancer, fish is filled with mercury, ice cream causes brain freezes – this week the dinner tables were turned.

Italian scientists announced Monday that people who regularly gorge themselves on pizza – eating the equivalent of nearly two whole pies per week – had a significantly reduced incidence of certain cancers during their lives.

The news seems too good to be true. Sort of like that whole, “bald is beautiful” thing.

The researchers cited the antioxidant benefits of tomato sauce, the fiber content of dough and the nutrients in many of the toppings as a possible explanation for their findings. The fact that they wore white chef’s hats with their lab coats should not discredit them in the least.

Indeed, I say these scientists just gave new meaning to the word, “ciao”.

What’s more, it is entirely possible this development is merely the tip of the iceberg lettuce. The scientific community may soon announce that:

- eating fried chicken dramatically improves one’s eyesight;

- devouring mash potatoes and gravy increases one’s flexibility;

- chomping on chocolate bars drastically reduces the risk of gingivitis;

- nibbling on lard unclogs one’s arteries; and

- pigging out on Chinese food not only heightens one’s memory, it enables the diner to tell the fortune of total strangers.

Okay, that last one may be pushing it a bit. I couldn’t help but become a little giddy, since pizza just happens to be one of my favorite meals. I love it in every shape known to man – round, square, deep dish, trapezoid – and in practically every variety – Dominoes, Little Caesars, Hungry Howies, etc.

I eat pizza hot, cold, fresh and leftover. I scrape the cheese off the cardboard box and treat my son’s discarded crust like a delicacy.

Now, based upon Italian research, it actually turns out I’m not eating enough of it. This has got to be the greatest discovery since the microwave oven and Slurpies.

Of course, I immediately vow to increase my family’s pizza consumption by at least two pies per week. I know I won’t get any argument from my sons.

It also occurs to me that the greater the amount of toppings decorating the pizza surface, the greater the health benefits. As a result, I further vow to order my pies with more options than a top-of-the-line Fiat. For the health benefits.

As I’m about to make a third vow concerning double cheese, my wife walks in.

“Why are you so happy?” she inquires, suspicion dripping off her tongue.

I show her the news item.

“Interesting...” she says.

I can see her wheels spinning. I consider engaging the brakes, but it’s too late.

“So most of these test subjects lived their entire lives without being afflicted with cancer?”

“Yeah, so?” comes my weak reply.

“I bet eating all that pizza caused them to become grossly overweight, leading to heart disease, diabetes and other problems. Of course, that would probably shorten their lives to the point where they died before they could be diagnosed with cancer.”

Kaboom!

My hopes and dreams suddenly pop like a large cheese bubble.

“You don’t know that,” I say with little conviction.

“Then go and eat a pizza a day,” she says, walking out of the room. “Prove me wrong.”

You know, I might just do that. Right after I shave my head bald.

Copyright 2003 Marc L. Prey
All rights reserved.