I live in a world where bridging the gap between edible and inedible food creations has become a daily feat, but the story of my Pepperoni Pizza Roses was built on a sad, sad day.

There I was, heading home to see my girlfriend, and I had an epiphany of the "damn I'd like to get laid"-variety, so I decided to spontaneously surprise her with something. It wasn't her birthday, it wasn't Valentine's Day, I was just trying to do something a little bit out of the ordinary.

pepperoni-pizza-roses

That in mind, I picked up a bouquet of roses and my girl's favorite means of nourishment, some NY-style pizza. I was in LA visiting from Canada, so I had to hit the Yelp-box for the good reccos. I ended up at some joint I can't remember the name of, but my plan was set and pizza was in hand -- I flew home, box of pizza and flowers burning a hole into my rental's passenger seat.

Then it happened.

I climbed the steps to her apartment, and jiggled the keys into the door, juggling both the pizza and the flowers in my off hand.

Being the amazing multi-tasker that I am, as soon as the door flung open my Nikes caught the lip of the doorway triggering my pizza/flower hand to compensate by letting everything fall to the floor. Yeah, the pizza, box completely open, and flowers, crumbling, all scattered on the floor.

pizza-roses

Pizza Roses!

There I was -- staring at the beautiful, sad mess...a fucked up Picasso of pizza, hardwood flooring and roses. I looked around, my girl no where to be seen, and when I should have been fuming, inspiration had struck. How cool would it be to make roses out of PIZZA?!

With Valentine's Day looming a few short days away, I figured I'd try to forget this bullshit just happened and just  surprise her with something even better. Thus: Pepperoni Pizza Roses.

I hope she doesn't read this story before Sunday, because I want these beauties to be a surprise. For everyone else who wants to make them, hope you treat your belly with some love.