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PrintA Saucy, Cheesy Superstition
I was 12 years old. Mom was in a rush for one of her league tennis matches and had 30 minutes to fling together a simple lunch - a Freschetta frozen pizza and some freshly sliced fruit.
When the oven timer beeped, my mother, cantaloupe shell under one palm and butcher's knife in the other hand, called for me: "Monica! Do me a favor! Take the pizza out."
Having taken food out of a hot oven just a few times in my life, I skittishly slipped on the mitt and pulled down the stove door, a mouth that breathed out a warm wave of air laced with the delectable aroma of baked dough. I crouched down and peered into the heated darkness. Sitting on the upper rack was a 16-inch, round pie topped with cheese that bubbled like a hot spring. I imagined how much heat was pent up under that thick layer of mozzarella, like a volcano trembling before exploding fiery tomato sauce.
Reaching my quivering hand into the black hole, I tested the protective insulation of the oven mitt by first touching the edge of the pan. Then I gripped it and slowly started sliding it out. Immediately after that, I'm not exactly sure what happened - I think I was spooked by a false sensation of heat "penetrating" the mitt.
I twisted my wrist and jerked it toward my body, pulling down on the pan such that it flipped completely and perfectly upside-down - splat, squelch, sizzle - while it was essentially still in the oven. I stood dumbfounded, gaping down at the spittering and spattering disaster on the smoking oven floor and partly on the inside of the open door. Somehow the cheese managed to fling itself everywhere - there were clumps plastered along the inner edges of the door frame and a few long, stringy pieces stretched across the face of the neighboring dishwasher.
My mother went wild: "As if I'm not already late!" and "Look at this mess!" and "How do you flip a pizza upside-down inside of an oven?!" I ran to my room and cried. I know, too old for a 12 year old, right? But I hadn't seen Mom that mad in a very long time and I hadn't felt that stupid and embarrassed in quite a while. So, yes, it was a festival of tears.
Now, more than 10 years later, my mom and I laugh about that day - not just because of the unparalleled physics of it all, but also because she ended up playing the best tennis of her life once she finally arrived at the courts that afternoon. Now, whenever Mom has a big tennis match, she asks me to flip a pizza upside down in the oven before she goes. Some superstition, huh? I don't think I could do it again if I tried.
