When my stomach began to grumble in the afternoon on Monday, I made my way downstairs to the kitchen. After scavenging around the kitchen, I made myself a pizza bagels. I didn't crave pizza or anything. If we had cold cuts, I would've made an open-faced sandwich or the like. But alas, our fridge was full of condiments and sauces.
There was half a bagel, some passata (unseasoned tomato purée), some wilting basil leaves that I accidently left out yesterday, and some mozzarella cheese.
I toasted the pizza bagel in our toaster oven on the "2 slices of toast" option. When the toaster oven beeped, I broiled the pizza bagels to get the cheese golden by using the button beside a photo of a roast chicken.
As the pizza bagels toasted and broiled, I worried that the watery passata would make the bagels soggy. I should've added a little butter or something to prevent the watery tomato purée from absorbing into the bagels, as OP once told me. When I took the bagels out, it looked like the bagels could've been a wet mess.
Richard microwaved a curry bun and needed a plate so he used mine. As I was about to take photos of the pizza bagels, he placed a basil leaf atop his snack. I guess he wanted me to take a picture. So I did. Like a squirrel, he took his snack and went upstairs to eat.
I quietly put down my camera and took a bite. The cheese slid a bit, showing the concentrated passata. I grabbed my camera for another frame and then finished the rest.
Other than this snack, I'm not sure why I've craved pizza so much over the past few months. I guess it's just a phase, just like my pho phase a few years back, or my chicken phase in second-year college.
Now that I'm looking at these pizza bagel photos, I'm craving some pizza. I think I have a problem.
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