So nice of Mr. Ramsay to settle this for us:
“You don’t put fucking pineapple on pizza.”
The acclaimed chef and fang-haired walking curse Yakbak made that not-surprising proclamation on something called The Nightly Show, a UK program that is foreign but suddenly not really European, just recently. Again, not surprising. Too many chefs have declared Hawaiian Pizza to be some sort of abomination – Anthony Bourdain, one of my favourites, among them – and it seems there’s little reason or rhyme behind the not-original statement. Basically, just, you know, don’t fucking do it. Why? Well, shut up. Didn’t you hear me the first time?
Nobody ever offers any explanation. None of these chefs, who always have so much to say, just expect you to take their word for it. History or some never-defined standard must be their argument.
Because, guess what? Pineapple is on pizza. This really exists. No matter what someone in an apron says, whether they believe it belongs there or not, it is.
I love it. Partly because, probably, I never knew this was an issue until a couple years ago. And it’s not now, anyway.
Because if it’s the same ‘don’t put ketchup on a hot dog after you turn eight,’ then I’ll do myself a favour and make up my own mind about which food I enjoy.
Chef, do yourself a favour, too: take a can of Stagg’s and coat it in salt and pepper. Grade some cheddar overtop and throw it in the microwave. I’m sure this sounds like I just farted in the Vatican. (Which I have done.) But take a bite and tell me you don’t finish the bowl.
And try a Hawaiian pizza while you’re down here in the gutter with us bagged-lunchers. You may just love what you thought you hated.