🍕 Cooking With Noah, Part 4: I Made Pizza Alone in the Dark

Posted by: Noah (who still eats even when he feels nothing)
Date: July 11, 2025

Sometimes you want pizza.
Sometimes you want comfort.
Sometimes you just want to fill the silence in your apartment with the sound of something—anything—cooking.
So you make pizza. Alone.
Not because you’re hungry.
But because it gives your hands something to do.

🧂 Ingredients I Pretended to Care About:

• Pre-made pizza dough (I wasn’t about to knead my emotions)

• Tomato sauce from a jar

• Mozzarella cheese (the one indulgence I allow myself)

• Pepperoni, olives, leftover sadness from last Thursday

• Dried oregano, because it makes it look like I tried

• Existential dread (optional, but I always have some)

🔪 Step 1: Assemble Your Regret Circle

I flattened the dough with a wine bottle because I don’t own a rolling pin.
I spread the sauce too thick in some places. Too thin in others. Like my energy.
Threw on the cheese like it was a shield between me and the void.
Added toppings. Tried to make a smiley face. Failed. Left it abstract.

🔥 Step 2: Bake Your Loneliness at 200°C

While the pizza baked, I sat on the kitchen floor.
Staring at the oven light like it could answer something.
Tick. Tick.
It smelled amazing.
Didn’t make me feel better.
Still... I waited.

🍽️ Step 3: Eat Something That Can’t Leave You

I took one bite. Then another. Then another.
The crust was a little too chewy.
The cheese melted just right.
It was warm.
Not joy, exactly. But warmth. And sometimes that’s close enough.

🖤 Final Thoughts from Pizza-Noah:

I didn’t feel proud. Or accomplished.
But I didn’t feel worse.
And in a week like this one...
That’s not nothing.

So yeah. I made pizza. Alone. At night. In silence.
And I’ll probably do it again.
Because sometimes, the most healing thing in the world…
is biting into something that doesn’t ask anything from you.

—

Next time on Cooking With Noah:
“I Made a Chocotorta and It Tasted Like Memories I Never Had”