Today’s Lesson: Pizza haiku ridiculosity on the sound of one slice slapping.

We’re doing something weird today, and maybe inadvisable—especially for a site dedicated to all things pizza. I started something last week, and I’ve found it addictive.
 
And it might be regarded as irrelevant to pizzamaking.
 
I say it couldn’t be more relevant to pizzamaking because, like pizza eating, it’s addictive. It’s fun. When you do it right, there’s a little dopamine rush.
 
If we get enough participation in this, I’ll even turn it into a contest with actual, valuable prizes. Ready?
 
Two words: Pizza haiku.

​Yeah, I know: you’re suddenly thrust back into the mindset of a horrific experience in English class in which you’re consumed by fear and loathing and mental chaos.
 
Forget about that.
 
My wife, the Fabulous Honey Parker, (novelist and my periodic writing partner) refuses to do this exercise because she knows exactly how addictive it would be. She already spends too much time playing puzzles. She’s gone way down the Wordle hole and plays other puzzles I’ve never heard of.
 
I know when I started writing these haiku, I was resistant as well.
 
But in short order, I had about 15 of these things.
 
Most of them are stupid—which is half the fun!
 
 
If you don’t know anything about haiku, it’s easy and fun.
 
Haiku is a Japanese poetry form. In its bastardized Americanization, a haiku is three lines long. The first line contains five syllables, the second line contains seven syllables, and the third line contains five syllables.
 
That’s it: 5/7/5
 
Traditionally, the poem focuses on nature or a fleeting moment in time.
 
An example of a classic haiku is this one from several hundred years ago by Haiku master Matsuo Bashō:
 
An old silent pond
A frog jumps into the pond
Splash! Silence again
 
So this one is both nature-centric and focused on a moment in time.
 
Here’s the first pizza haiku that I wrote:
 
Crushed San Marzano
Mozzarella freshly weeps
On pillowed love crust
 
See? The nature of pizza and a brief moment in time.
 
And ridiculous. Truly.
 
Here’s another :
 
Leopard spots of char
Dotting the undercarriage
The crunch of New York
 
That might be even worse than the first.
 
But here’s the thing about it: Once you start playing the game, it’s like pizza: it’s hard to stop.
 
 
I sent a couple of these over to Dutch, pizzaiolo at wood-fired joint Tribecca Allie Café in Sardis because I joke that he likes to speak in Zen koans about pizza.

His first reply was a haiku from his wife, Rebecca:
 
Bubbles and grease
In my hand then my mouth
The dream is complete
 
Dutch said, “I’m not as creative as she.” Then she sent another one:
 
Oh Margherita
Pretty lady tastes so good
Crispy and hot—ahhh
 
But Dutch finally did pony up…
 
A perfect fire burns
Deft touch spin swirl pinch and slide
Ninety seconds done
 
And yes, this kept going on into the next day.
Just when I figured it was over, another one came across my messages.
 
Bubbles blister char
Steamy salty oily pure
Pizza perfection
 
 
Wanna play?
 
Here’s the deal.
 
Write as many of these things as you want.
 
I recommend just taking a blank page and doing a brain dump.
 
The more you do them, the better they get.
 
Or the sillier.
 
Or both.
 
Pick the one or ones you think are best.
 
Send them to me by clicking here.
 
If I get at least half a dozen people playing this game, the contest is on.
 
I hope I get a blizzard of entries and they’re good enough—meaning, they are literate, or awful, or hilarious, or all of the above).
 
 
Because if I do, I’ll consider making them into a book and publishing it on Amazon.
 
And you—yes, YOU—will be a participant in one of the most ludicrous pizza publications in my X years of being a published author.
 
How much fun will that be?

The deadline is next week at this time: Saturday, August 29, 2026 at 3:15pm.
 
Remember, just three lines with a syllable count of 5/7/5.
 
The pizza haiku is about a pizza nature and/or a brief moment in time.
 
Pizzaiku, Grasshopper!
 
(I know: Haiku is Japanese and “Grasshopper” is from the TV series Kung Fu, which was about a Chinese monk. I hope I get a pass on this one.)
 
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The five-star rated The Lazy Way to Pizza e-book edition is now on sale at Amazon. As it says in the book description there:

The only special tool: A pan. The only special ingredient: Patience. (Just a pinch.) The only oven: the one already in your kitchen.

ABOVE: The book and the genuine Lloyd Pans that were onsite during a recent Utah pizza night...


​Your friends and family won't believe you made this pizza yourself--especially after that incident with the burnt water topped with boiled toast. This is for real: one of the best tasting pizzas you've ever put into your mouth. The cheese, the tomato, the olive oil, the crunch--it's so good, you might never order delivery pizza again. You might even call this pizza "artisanal."

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(from the foreword to the book)

For more info, click here.
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