Beet and goat cheese pizza


beetroot goat cheese pizza dsc_0341

The last person I forced to eat roasted beets was pleasantly surprised. The response I received was, “It doesn’t taste like dirt. It’s kinda like a cross between a cho-cho (chayote) and a corn.”
Mission accomplished! Living on the wild side is so much fun, isn’t it?
I don’t usually force anyone to do anything but I had too. It’s beets and they are my number one detox earth food. When you got a lotta toxicity in your body and you wanna get to flushing, invest in and ingest some beets.

I may be considered weird for saying this, but I FREAKING LOVE BEETS! I enjoy them so much, that there are times when I will literally bring home a good 25 pounds of beets. I know your probably thinking, “Like really? Who  the heck does that?”  Well I most certainly do and can’t begin to tell you how proud I am of doing so. When I’m not juicing the heck outta beets, I’m roasting them. This time around, I decided to make pizza.

Actually, it was my son D’Angelo who wanted some pizza. What I wanted were beets, goat cheese, herbs and pesto. So I did what any caring, foodie, chef of a mother would do. I made MYSELF pizza. I meant, I made D’Angelo pizzas with all the toppings that I’m absolutely sure he would appreciate. I even went a step further and doubled the batch; one for me and one for him.  One with meat and the other without. Maybe we could share them both, I thought. But it didn’t quite work out that way.

D'Angelo pizza DSC_0298
My greedy son D’Angelo has absolutely no conscience. Never ever did I believe that someone greedier than I existed. Men would often tell me that they would rather feed than clothe me. I always found humor in that statement until it actually hit home. D’Angelo is a bottomless pit. I would rather clothe him than feed him.

Can you imagine? I made the pizza dough from scratch. Made the roasted bell peppers, tomato oregano marina sauce from scratch. Prepped all the ingredients, set my timer and waited patiently for this pizza. How many slices did I get? Two freaking slices! Who ate the remainder? You guessed right. D’Angelo of course. I guess I can say that I have finally found my match. The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree. I’m so ready to take him back to the birthing room at the hospital. I swear, sometimes I wonder if they gave me the wrong baby.

Who are the ravenous eaters in your household?

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