your goose is probably only half-baked at this point

Moonstruck  has been a fascinating cultural experience for me. I first saw it when I was in my early teens, maybe tweens, and I loved it (it's got Cher in it, how could I not  love it?). Six or so years later, I attended Thanksgiving with my long-suffering partner's extremely  Italian family, and I fell in love with Moonstruck  all over again because oh my god they weren't exaggerating anything in the movie Italian-Americans really are this amazing . Then four or five years after that, I visited New York City for the first time and got a taste of the city in which Moonstruck  is set (though 2010 NYC and 1986 NYC are vastly  different places), and finally had all the pieces I needed to truly enjoy Moonstruck  in its entirety. (I still love Cher, don't be confused, but Olympia Dukakis as Rose is absolutely 100% the best part  of that movie. "You've got a lovebite on your neck." I CAN'T.) Now fast-forward to October 2016. We'd gone to see a play,...

I have a wicked weakness for pizza, which is stupid because pizza is Not Good for Me and expensive. Its only redeeming quality these days is that it's a 7,000-step walk from my house to the pizza shop and back, and that's kind of negated by the fact that I get home and eat the entire pizza in one go , then fall asleep in a food coma. My relationship with pizza is complex and troubled, let me tell you. Today, we got home from our walk (same 7k-step walk, mind you, only we bought doughnuts instead of pizza, my body weeps) and I got all feisty watching my partner wash the pan he uses to make me quesadillas. What if, I thought, I (and by "I" I mean "he") made a quesadilla with mozzarella cheese and some Italian spices, then dipped it in pizza sauce? Would I get something vaguely pizza-ish? The answer is a resounding YES. It's not got the consistency of pizza, but it has the flavor, which is what I find I crave. And it's small, which means I can gor...