JD says to Sher and the teenager, “Do you want to try a pizza place called The Dish in Liberty, MO?”
Sher says to JD and the teenager, “Take us there at once.”
So he did, because that’s how we do. I say jump and he says, “How high?” (I threw that little tidbit in there to see if he actually reads this blog. If he doesn’t, I’m safe. If he does, this would be a great place to mention I’m being held at gunpoint and forced to write things that I don’t want to write.)
Jason Ransom is the pizza big pimpin’ Daddy behind The Dish and although I haven’t met him, he and I will someday be wed. I won’t actually stay married to him (surprised much?), but we’ll live happily ever after at least until I get him to teach me to make this pizza.
We didn’t have reservations, but the wait was only long enough for me and the teenager to discuss what kind of cake to get her Dad for his birthday this week. She said chocolate, I said chocolate, and he said one big enough to comfortably house a tall Swedish woman in her early 20s. (This gun is super pointy and frankly I think I’m suffering from Stockholm Syndrome.)
Our waitress’ name was Sadie and she was adorable. I liked her a real lot because when I asked for things, she just brought them. We ordered a cheese pizza stuffed with cheese because the teenager is a vegetarian. That was fine with me because I enjoy cheese very much.
I had a Pale Ale and JD has some kind of beer that’s really dark and tastes like an old smoker’s teddy bear. That’s right. A smoker’s stuffed teddy bear. I just wrote that, my friendo.
The teenager and I were LOVING on the pizza. The sauce was just a delight and frankly, I dislike most pizza sauces. Jason’s tasted fresh, like there may have been tomatoes growing in the kitchen.
JD was crushing hard on it too, but he was so embroiled in a battle with the people on his side of our booth that he could barely focus. No words were spoken. It wasn’t that kind of battle. All I can say is watching him getting bounced around from their constant bumping and pushing was like watching him being possessed by the devil – or experiencing a pizza-induced seizure.
Here’s something you should know about ordering a pizza at The Dish. Unless you have recently come out of a coma and haven’t eaten in fourteen years, one pizza is enough for four people, or as it was in our case, two regular-sized people and one exceptionally tall man. We weren’t confident it would be because Sadie Waitress asked after we ordered, “Is that all?” She said it in such a way it was if she was trying to tell us in her own subtle way that we would be sorely sorry for not ordering more food.
We weren’t. One pizza was plenty and we even took one gigantic piece home with us. It only lasted until around midnight when JD felt it should be put out of its misery.
The crust at The Dish was my favorite part about the entire experience. I am a crust lover. I can admit that to you. “CrustLover162” may or may not be my email password. But this crust was beyond any I’ve ever loved before. It was crispy, but not too crispy. Buttery, but not too buttery. It was mile-high PERFECTION.
If The Dish sold nothing but a pan of crust, I’d be completely happy.
I want you to go the The Dish in Liberty, MO right now. Even if you live in Alaska. I want you to get on a plane and fly here to eat this pizza. Be warned…if you are seated in a booth and you notice a giant man sitting on the other side, be still. Be so, so still.
Get The Dish pizza at a grocery store in the Midwest, or get yourself to 846 South 291 Highway in Liberty, MO. You’ll thank me. Hopefully you’ll thank me by taking me to dinner with you. I call dibs on the crust.