Hot gooey cheese, burning the roof of your mouth sauce, and crunchy, crusty bread. Yum! It started with a pizza in fifth grade home economics. The recipe was French Bread Pizza, the ingredients were simple, bread, sauce, cheese, and meat. But that was all it took, my culinary spark was lit. I went home and wanted to give my school recipe a try. The actual ingredients were French bread probably from the local grocery store's bakery. The remaining ingredients were less than wholesome, a can of salty tomato sauce, a block of mozzarella you had to shred yourself, and greasy pre-sliced pepperoni you simply had to taste. Hopefully you managed to save enough for the pizza. And Voila, I felt just like a chef! Did it matter that the only chef I knew was Chef Boyardee? Of course not, because I could make my own food. And even got to use the oven much to my mother's disapproval (for fear I would burn the house down). I didn't care because even at that moment I was a better c