Pineapple, Python & Puberty: A Hawaiian Pizza Confession

I'm about to get controversial, my friends.

I love Hawaiian pizza.

There, I said it. Come at me!

If you're still reading and haven't closed this tab in disgust, welcome. You're either a fellow Hawaiian pizza lover, a curious fence-sitter, or you're just here to quietly judge while eating your fourth slice of meat-lovers. No shame.

My love affair with this polarizing pie started at a high school choir party. My best friend ordered it, flopped a steaming, cheese-stringy triangle onto my plate, and said, "You have to try this." I resisted. I made a face. I said something like, "Fruit doesn't belong on pizza," because I was 15 and very opinionated about things I didn't understand.

But peer pressure is real, people. And sometimes, it slaps.

Reader, I took a bite.

It was sweet. It was salty. It was confusing. It was magic.

That same party was also the first time I saw Monty Python and the Holy Grail, so let’s just say it was a deeply formative night. I discovered pineapple belongs on pizza and that a coconut is a perfectly acceptable substitute for horse hooves. These were revelations. #NOREGRETS

Monty Python and Hawaiian pizza: the twin pillars that helped me survive high school. Nerdy? Absolutely. Delicious? Also yes.

So if you're ready to head over to the dark side, here’s a recipe that would make a New York pizza purist weep into their foldable slice. Let’s do this.

Rebellious Hawaiian Pizza

Yields: One glorious, debate-sparking 12-inch pie

Ingredients:

• 1 ball pizza dough (store-bought or homemade—you do you)

• 1/2 cup pizza sauce (or whatever tomato-based sauce makes your heart sing)

• 1 to 1 1/2 cups shredded mozzarella cheese

• 1/2 cup sliced ham (or Canadian bacon, if you're fancy)

• 1/3 cup pineapple chunks (fresh or canned, just pat them dry if they're juicy)

• Optional: red pepper flakes, thin red onion slices, or a sprinkle of heresy (aka extra cheese)

Instructions:

1. Preheat your oven to 475°F (or hotter if your oven's got main-character energy). If you have a pizza stone, now’s its time to shine. Otherwise, a baking sheet will do just fine.

2. Roll out your dough on a lightly floured surface until it's roughly a 12-inch circle. Or oval. Or weird blob—this is a judgment-free zone.

3. Transfer dough to a parchment-lined baking sheet or preheated pizza stone.

4. Spread that sauce like you spread your favorite gossip—generously but not chaotically.

5. Sprinkle on the mozzarella. Then artfully (or haphazardly) scatter the ham and pineapple across the cheese.

6. Bake for 10-15 minutes, or until the crust is golden and the cheese is bubbly and maybe even a little singed in spots. That’s flavor, baby.

7. Let it cool for a minute unless you enjoy roof-of-mouth trauma. Then slice, serve, and prepare for passionate debates.

Final Thoughts:
Look, not everyone’s going to understand your choices. Some people like their pizza with anchovies. Some like it with pineapple. Some don’t like pizza at all, and those are my children, so I weep a little, but ARFID is for real my friends.  To each their very own, am I right?

To quote the great philosophers of Monty Python: “We are the knights who say... YES to pineapple!”

So raise your slice high, my friends. Be bold. Be sweet. Be salty. Be you.

Would you like a funny printable version of this recipe to tape to your fridge (and confuse houseguests)?