Tuesday, February 06, 2007


It's probably because I'm craving childhood, but what I wouldn't give for the sound of cheesy goodness escaping the confines of its crusty shell and sizzling on the baking sheet below it. As a child, I wasn't aloud to stick my hands in the oven (a good rule, I think), so I would monitor the pizza rolls carefully, then yell "Mom!!!! They're oozing, they're oozing!!" and she would come into the kitchen and take them out for me. Mom was always good like that—she'd come wipe my butt when I called, too.
So until I find some pizza rolls (and I'm not talking about those newfangled "chicken enchilada" kinds), I'll just have to make due with the most comprehensive pizza roll review I've ever seen (I can only imagine what part two is going to be like!)

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