We made peace with the Hawaiian slice years ago, but if you are reaching for that Maggi Hot & Sweet bottle, we need to have a serious talk.
It is February
9, National Pizza Day. While the rest of the world is busy reigniting the tired, dusty debate about whether pineapple belongs on a pizza (spoiler: it does, the sweetness cuts the fat, get over it), we in India have a much bigger fish to fry. Or rather, a much bigger pie to ruin.
I have spent twenty years eating my way through gourmet Neapolitan crusts in South Delhi and greasy, cheese-laden triangles in Mumbai local trains. And I have witnessed crimes.
The biggest red flag isn't fruit. It is the table condiment.
The Ketchup Reflex
You know the sound. You are at a nice pizzeria. The wood-fired oven is crackling. The chef has fermented that dough for 48 hours. The San Marzano tomato sauce is perfectly acidic. And then - thwack, thwack, thwack.
Someone at the next table is hammering the bottom of a ketchup bottle, drowning that poor slice in a sea of sugary red sludge.
Why do we do this? I suspect it is the "Samosa Syndrome." We are culturally wired to believe that anything fried or baked is merely a vehicle for chutney. But pizza isn't a Mathri. When you slather ketchup over a Margherita, you aren't enhancing the flavor; you are embalming it. You are telling the chef, "I don't care about your basil; I just want to taste vinegar and sugar."
If your date does this without tasting the slice first? Red flag. Huge.
The "Liquid Cheese" Conspiracy
Then there is the issue of the white stuff. And no, I don't mean fresh mozzarella. I am talking about that grid of "liquid cheese" or "cheesy mayo" that gets piped onto street-style pizzas.
Let’s be honest for a second. That is not cheese. It is an edible oil experiment that has never met a cow.
It creates a texture that I can only describe as "slippery." You take a bite, and the entire topping layer slides off like a wet blanket, slapping you on the chin. It is messy, it destroys the structural integrity of the crust, and frankly, it ruins the mouthfeel. If a menu boasts "Extra Cheese Burst" and the price is ₹150, run. You aren't getting cheddar; you are getting thick mayonnaise with yellow food coloring.
The Sachet Hoarding
Okay, this one is less of a red flag and more of a collective national quirk, but it needs to stop. We have all seen the drawer. The drawer in the kitchen filled with 400 packets of Domino’s oregano and chilli flakes.
We act like these sachets are currency for the apocalypse. I have seen people empty the entire seasoning bowl into their pockets at dine-in restaurants. It screams of a scarcity mindset. Use the seasoning you need. Leave the rest. The pizza usually has flavor already - if it’s good.
Look, eat what you love. If dipping a slice of pepperoni in chai is your thing (yes, I have seen it happen in Bangalore), you do you.
But this National Pizza Day, try eating the slice naked. No ketchup, no extra mayo, no mountain of chilli flakes. Just dough, sauce, and cheese. You might be surprised to find it actually tastes like food.
