The birth of “kids night” happened on a Friday night when I was five. I, at the time, was eager to stay up late. So one night instead of going straight to bed my siblings and I stayed up and watched movies and listen to stories from my mom and dad. It got later and later and I as well as my, at the time, two other siblings were getting hungry. So I went with my dad up the stairs into the kitchen there on the table was dad's pizza. I reached over the rectangle wooden table from the side toward the center of the leaf where the pan was sitting with a delectable mixture of bread, cheese, and sauce. I took a piece off the pan, put it onto a plate, and prayed. After prayer one bite was and I felt a waterslide of hot melty cheese, bread, and sauce rooting itself in the tiny cracks and crevices in my mouth warming my body. Instantly knowing, worth making. Thus “kids night” was born.

Later on I figured out that the pizza is a family recipe that was passed down from family to family, father to father, Joseph to Joseph perfected to the tiniest detail everything from type of cheese to waiting time. My dad and me along with other siblings in efforts to and our own tune ups will make it, bake it, and by then ironically we would’ve ate it. After we made for consecutive pizzas we would taste it mark the taste tester results. After a year of doing this we compared scores and decided on what would get the highest positive result. And to this day we still make the same pizza, on the same day of the week, and the results are mostly the same…

POSITIVE!!!