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Pizza the action

Welcome to my Blog at The Lair Of The Camrose


It’s my bespoke stomping ground in the Intermatrix . You are very welcome, and thanks for stopping by…

This time, the Siren’s Song, preferably not the Fire Engine siren because of the new pizza oven …


pizza oven, showing the heart of the flame for outside living

We decided to buy a pizza oven.

Why? Because it would provide a Family Bonding Expeience during the long hours of Lockdown and demonstrate that something fundamentally basic like a pizza can be elevated into a whole new stratosphere of culinary wonderment with the addition of 900 degrees of firepower. The gloves for handling the hardware would grace any firefighter’s tool kit, thick and protective and, JESUS CHRIST, THAT’S STILL HOT!

At that point, due respect was due to the martial artists who pick up a pot filled with burning coals to brand pictures of dragons onto their inner arms. For that sort of thing, the Epsom Tattoo Parlour seems a less lethal way to go, social distancing permitting.

As an initial victory, I managed to avoid setting fire to the owner’s manual. This is not Fahrenheit 451. A bit of kindling, some charcoal, some accelerant borrowed from the neighbourhood pyromaniac and we were up and running, clean burning fuel with a judicious eco eye firmly in place.

The first one proved to be sensational in the middle but usable as replacement charcoal on the outside all the way round, or as a (very) burnt offering. When I say round, I refer to the irregular dodecagon that threatened to turn into a mind-bending Mobeus strip of gooey Mozzarella.

The second proved to be more cooperative and the third (pictured above) a wonder of modern pizza technology, the pizza slices starting to resemble a leaning tower. It made me think of the various other flavours and toppings that would lend themselves to the Fire.

This was not one of them – no cat was festooned with chorizo and artichoke hearts for the creation of this Mighty Furry:

So, when the carbo-loading devil next sits on my shoulder and whispers Hawaiian, extra-thick crust in my eager ear…

Fire up that NOS because it’ll be time to don the asbestos apron and iconic gloves once more and kick off with at least Three Degrees…

Only 897 to go…

before heading into the heart of the Flame.

I’ll be in the Cal-Zone, baby!

Cheers,

Alan

Alan Camrose

Alan Camrose with beard
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