Eating pizza is a psychological blood sport, and the competition begins long before anyone can blot grease with a napkin, pick off a mushroom, or perform a cesarean on some stubborn Parmesan cheese. The first jab is thrown when someone digs into the center of the pizza - forsaking all crusted pieces - and brings back to their plate a square wedge of cheese that may as well be lasagna that's been hit by a steam roller. The competition intensifies when someone peels off the cheese and toppings from an innocent piece of pizza - exposing its sauce-soaked, doughy foundation - and takes only the bottom, leaving a pepperoni pelt behind as a warning to the other meaty pieces of pizza who may be "too much" for the bon vivant who summoned their delivery. If you strip away our manners and our reputations, you'd find that our pizza piece preferences are at the core of who we are as individuals.
I've always been a Corner Person™. When presented with a full pizza, I opt for the four corners first, as I know in my heart of hearts those are the crispiest, most delicious pieces of any pizza. If you're confused right now because you usually order pizza where every piece is the same, your pizza doesn't have pieces, it has slices. Read on for an important lesson about pieces and slices:
In the realm of foods cut into multiples, the word "slice" implies uniformity in geometry, if not in size. There has never been a slice of anything that has not also been a triangle. If your pizza is cut into long, triangular slices that meet at a point in the center, you're eating slices. Unless it is deep dish, sliced pizza is generally inferior to pizza with cuts that overlap and create varying shapes, unless said sliced pizza comes with a tiny plastic table that would make a nice accent piece in the living room of a low-rent dollhouse. The tiny plastic pizza table trumps many pizza disappointments, not the least of which, the method of division. Let the pizza psychoanalysis continue.
A pizza craving is one of the most human things about us. Pizza is the only food that remains the undisputed saboteur of all diets and carb avoidances. In disputes about what to order for dinner, pizza is the benevolent food Switzerland that brings us all together around a steamy cardboard box. Pizza is part of who we are, and whether you've considered it or not, your pizza piece preferences are not incidental. The next time you find yourself drawn to that cheesy inner piece or that discarded crust, know that you're expressing your innermost self.
The Teeny Tiny Corner
Not everyone would be willing to take a chance on a lil' pizza nugget with such scarce toppings, but you have a big heart. Rationally, you know this piece is a throwaway, fit only for the dog or the friend who's going to regret ordering a salad in ten minutes' time. In a social setting, selecting this glorified crumb could mean walking away hungry if your fellow guests count this toward your pizza piece quota, but you don't care. You root for the underdog. You believe that sometimes following your heart requires a little sacrifice, because look at it! It's just so cute!
The Regulation Corner
You're charmingly unchill. So when you see some pizza slut who already has three ordinary rectangular pieces stacked up on his or her plate reaching for one of your precious corners, you'll make a joke that you called dibs on the corners. Oh, how everyone will laugh and marvel at how effortlessly you eschew confrontation! But this is not a joke. It's never a joke. You're deeply passionate about the things that matter to you - which is ev-ery-thing. Including pizza pieces. This is about justice.
The Traditional Rectangle
The standard rectangle piece attracts the opportunists. With its adequate crust and optimum pizza square footage, it calls out to those who believe that getting what you want doesn't have to be complicated. While everyone else is cooing over corners or hacking the greasy middle pieces loose, you - a bona fide rectangle wrangler - swoop in and secure the most substantial pieces of pizza while everyone is distracted. You're a no-nonsense type who sticks with what you know, especially when it means sneaking the best pieces right out from under these pizza chumps.
The Unique Corner-Adjacent Rectangle
You're not sure exactly what you want, but you can always feel it when something is special. The corner-adjacent rectangle is the preferred choice for those who are constantly seeking something. Their enduring existential longing manifests itself in this often-overlooked pizza piece. Of all the pieces of pizza, the corner-adjacent rectangle joins two very different pizza psyches - the rectangle and the corner - into one unusual hybrid piece, a cheesy representation of the struggle between pragmatism and idealism.
The Crustless All-Toppings Piece
Aside from the fact that you are living trash, you aren't afraid to stand up for what you believe in. You know there are some things about yourself that may make you unpopular, but you need another person's approval about as much as you need crust: not at all. You prefer to be mellow, but when you're forced to choose between being accepted and being who you are, you always choose being who you are. Only those with a very strong character (or bad taste, as its referred to in some cultures) opt for the crustless inside pieces.
The Bald Piece
You're stubborn, and you refuse to admit when you're wrong - that's probably why you see no problem with discarding the quintessential pizza component and eating soggy tomato sauce bread, forcing everyone around you to deal with the trail of pizza toppings you leave behind like a pickier Hansel and Gretel. You're used to getting your way, and most of the time, people give you what you want - even when you're being ridiculous or causing pizza mayhem. There's also a profound sadness within you that you keep hidden, because you know that if melted cheese on bread isn't enough to satisfy you, there's a good chance nothing of this earthly realm will.
The Pile of Cast-Off Toppings
You're a people pleaser - that's the only way to explain why you're eating a pile of smushed cheese and toppings that was forcefully torn from what was once a complete piece of pizza. You're not a coward, but. Well. You do choose to eat someone's pizza garbage, so you clearly don't have the strongest backbone. You just want everyone to be happy, even if that means depriving yourself of the true pizza experience. But seriously? You deserve better than pizza guts.
The Gnawed-Upon Crust
You take a lot of pride in coming to someone's rescue, even when it involves racoonish behavior. Being the person who eats everyone else's unwanted crust is very noble, unless of course you intend on taking this piece, folding it up in a napkin, and using the bite marks to frame someone for a crime. You don't think you could actually pull that off, but it's been done. These dental impressions are perfect though... Anyway. Maybe you just love crust and docuseries about murders, and that's all there is to it. But maybe you'll just take this piece home and look at it under your microscope to see if there's a full imprint of the incisors.
No pizza was harmed during the creation of this post.
Katie Hoffman is a writer living in the suburbs of Chicago. She enjoys leftovers, lunges, and laughs.
