The price of my love for pizza

Sometimes I miss my favorite food. But my wallet and my waistline don't.

Photo by Crawford Jolly on Unsplash

I paid for pizza for the first time in eight months on Friday night.

Parker hosted a sleepover, and we had a pizza party.

I paid $17.70 for two medium, one-topping pizzas from Pizza Hut. Say what you will about my selection. It was quick, kid-friendly and I didn’t have to cook or clean. I almost forgot how amazing that all feels. I certainly miss the convenience.

The last time my personal funds went to pizza was Sept. 27.

Since then, I have enjoyed pizza at various times when supplied by others. I’ve indulged on occasion when traveling for work on my company’s dime. But my streak for not spending my money on pizza held for 240 days, or 34 weeks and two days.

I told you in March that pizza is among my biggest money pitfalls and warranted its own column. I’ve decided to dedicate two to the topic. Come back tomorrow for a special edition column ranking my favorite pizza spots in Chicago. But today’s column is dedicated to the cost of my habit.

I haven’t given up my biggest guilty pleasure. But it was time for me to scale back. My consumption was out of control. My love for pizza had no limits. Good. Bad. Average. It hardly mattered the quality. If I craved pizza, I bought it. And I dutifully devoured it.

Not the best pizza. But it was cheap and got the job done. | Photo by Parker Mayberry

I embraced my overindulgence with pride. I took pleasure in being among millions of pizza-crazed people. It was as if I was on a never-ending search to find the perfect pie, from the crust and sauce to the cheese and toppings. And I loved testing my favorite food’s flexibility.

Don’t mind pineapple on your pizza? Congratulations on graduating from amateur hour. What about pickles? It’s a thing, and I’m not ashamed to say I’ve tried it. It wasn’t terrible, but it wasn’t exactly enjoyable. Think of anything you’ve ever tasted that was over-seasoned, but imagine the dominant seasoning is pickles. You have to really love pickles to have it twice.

The Original Pickle Pizza from Bob’s Pizza in Chicago, IL., made with mortadella, garlic cream, dill pickles and fresh dill. Total: $27.69.

But my favorite was a good, old-fashioned pepperoni. Thin crust, hand-tossed, deep dish, again, it didn’t matter. Put it in front of me and I would put it down.

Sometimes, I miss my favorite food. But my wallet and my waistline don’t.

While gorging on pizza, I had no idea of the drain it was having on my fitness and my finances. Only when I hand wrote all of my pizza purchases from 2022 did I begin to realize the damage I was inflicting on myself.

I bought pizza two to three times a week last year, sometimes from different places on the same day, sometimes on consecutive days. I spent $20 to $35 per pie, and I didn’t see anything wrong with it. It was my comfort food, and it made me happy.

But I’ve reached my breaking point.

Whether a slice or the whole pie, I wanted all the pizza…until last year’s car repair bill put my priorities in check.

I spent $1,214.11 on pizza last year. That’s $101.18 per month, and I didn’t spend a dime on pizza over the final three months.

By comparison, my cell phone bill is $107.01 each month. When I began viewing my love affair with pizza as a monthly bill, my temptation quickly faded. Our split soon followed.

Some of my pizza purchases in 2022 were reimbursable expenses incurred during business trips. I included them all to reflect the extent of my habit. But the list doesn’t include how much I spent on frozen pizzas or the alcohol that often accompanied my meals.

My highest pizza cost from last year, for example, a $126.05 charge from Homeslice Pizza on August 28, was a brunch date that included bottomless mimosas. It went well until I used the restroom before we departed. When I returned, the woman had left the tip using my credit card after the waitress left the check on the table. It was only our second date.

We never spoke again after that day. Pizza restaurants aren’t the only place where my cutoff game is strong.

But I never sought this eight-month sabbatical. Still, it’s now part of my lifestyle. The benefits of today far outweigh my fond memories. I have more money, fewer pounds and enhanced energy.

My tastes have changed too. Much of the pizza I used to love is too greasy for me now. Pepperoni still has a special place in my heart, but it doesn’t satisfy me as much on the way down. I can’t help but to be mindful of how much fatty foods I’m putting in my body. Even if money didn’t matter, I’m at a point where my long-term health must win out.

But money always matters. And I love it more than pizza.