These are definitely guilty pleasures that turned out healthier perhaps than the restaurant versions. More importantly though, my daughter wanted to help me write down the recipe and make the pizza. She rushed to the cupboards looking for the ingredients, hoping the flour wasn’t too high for her to reach (which it wasn’t).
When I offered her a notecard and a pen, Ember sat down diligently beside me to listen as I told her which letters spelled “pizza”.
Everett enjoyed the pizza-making process; or shall I say, Everett enjoyed making handprints in the flour. Mid-bite of his pizza he critiqued the crust. Unfortunately, I think the yeast had grown old so we ate more of a flatbread than a fluffy dough. Regardless of taste, he ate his fair share.
Everett chose the red bell pepper at the store for dad and happily sprinkled green onions on his own section (no bell pepper for him though).
We used two different sauces. I made a basil pesto sauce and spread that on one pizza while tomato sauce was spread on the other.
The milkshake was not made of ice cream but instead was a mix of a raw rice bran protein powder, whole milk (with cream on top), local honey, and frozen strawberries.