Greasy Mother of God

I’m doing this thing where I eat only fish and salad and the occasional bean, and I’d nearly convinced myself it was sustainable. Then Clifford Endo, who runs some food blog in Brooklyn, posts a recipe for pizza where he replaces the dough entirely with fries.

That’s the whole post. Pizza base made of potatoes.

I don’t even need to see the full recipe to know what he’s done, and it’s maddening because he’s operating from a place of complete clarity. He looked at the unspoken rule—the one that says you eat pizza or you eat fries as a side, but never both, because that would make you a deviant—and he just ignored it. Demolished it. Said the rule doesn’t apply.

Everyone’s done this in secret. Folded fries into their pizza, that quiet transgression, and never mentioned it because admitting it would mean admitting something about yourself. But Endo put it on display. Made it intentional. Made it impossible to pretend you don’t want it.

And the infuriating part is that there’s no principled argument against it. Not health, not tradition, not restraint. You can only sit with the fact that you want it, and you always have.

I’m not making it. I think about it though.