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The Early Morning Pizza 🍕 👩🍳
Because who plans a pizza at 2:30 AM?
So, it all began when I decided to finally adult-up and live alone after months of PGs and flat-sharing chaos. Found myself a flat smaller than a government-issued broom closet, but it was mine. Peaceful, independent, and...hungry.
Now here’s the deal, I can cook. I mean, I survive-cook. Daal-chawal? Check. Veg biryani? MasterChef level if you’re really, really forgiving. But I’m lazy. Like, the kind of lazy where you cut corners on toast.
After a week of playing domestic goddess and feeding myself proper meals, I said , enough is enough. Let’s retire. New plan: chai for breakfast, Maggi for lunch, and dinner outsourced to the hardworking kitchen of nearby dhaba.
It worked. Until it didn’t.
One fine evening, I passed out at 7:30 PM (yes, before the street dogs even began their shift) and woke up at 2:30 AM, hungry enough to consider chewing my pillow.
Kitchen? Dark. Maggi? Vanished. Restaurants? Sleeping. Life? Questionable.
In my fridge, standing alone like the last warrior was a packed pizza dough. Because clearly, I was once optimistic about becoming "that" girl who makes pizza from scratch.
So at 3 AM, I turned on YouTube like it was a survival manual. Searched, scrolled, side-eyed some overconfident chefs, and got to work. The result? A pizza that was 40% ambition, 60% burnt crust, and 100% edible... if you were starving.
But guess what? I ate it with the pride of a warrior. Because sometimes, victory doesn’t come with applause. It comes with half-burnt cheese and a full stomach.
