Friday I was supposed to have company, which never arrived, so Jeff and I made pizza. Perhaps to show up BJ's, I made an artichoke pizza myself. Homemade pesto, instead of cream cheese. No spinach. We had replaced our pizza stone, and I've mastered the art of the pizza peel (ok, it's not an art. You shake it and the pizza slides off.) It was good, and I had the leftovers cold for breakfast the next day, even. I crave pizza at least once a week, which is probably more than I should have it, but I don't care.