There are many pervasive sayings that get passed down from generation to generation that are completely devoid of facts. One that comes to mind is the saying “Even when pizza is bad, it’s still pretty good.” I believed that at one point in my life. Navy boot camp changed that forever.
Food in the mess hall at ROTC Orlando was…how do I put this nicely…horrible and disgusting. Yes, that covers it. One night as the two months of basic training was coming to an end, the Company Commanders arrived unannounced in our barracks after hours. That usually meant unbelievably bad things were about to happen to us.
Once we were cycled so hard that our sweat condensed on the ceiling and rained back down on us. It’s an amazing science experiment that can only be conducted by eighty dudes doing 8-count bodybuilders for thirty minutes straight in an enclosed space assisted by Florida’s tropical humidity. I do not recommend it.
This time the smell of pizza accompanied the arrival of our two CC’s. That was…different. They filled up the tables at the head of our barracks with stacks of pizza boxes and cans of root beer. Looking back on it, the fact that the grease had soaked through the cardboard and was puddling onto the table should have been a warning. The gas station logo on said boxes should also have set off alarm bells. Alas, it did not. After almost two months of tasteless gray mush, we were positively salivating at the thought of some take-out pizza, gas station brand or not.
Our CC’s announced that because we had done so well during the base wide competitions between all the recruit companies, they were treating us to the surprise pizza dinner. We each would get two – count ‘em – two 8 inch pizzas and two cans of root beer. We all jostled for position and greedily wolfed down the grease rag pies and gulped the fizzy root beer. I could feel my stomach rejecting the copious amounts of volatile compounds assaulting it all at once after seven weeks of abstinence, but I ignored it and pushed on. We all ate like starving dogs afraid the next one was going to steal our treat if we even took a breath between bites.
I would estimate that only five minutes elapsed between the time the last pizzas and root beers were taken off the table and the last bite and gulp was done. We all sat on the floor against our bunks, as it was strictly forbidden to be on the bed until lights out was called. That’s when the pain hit. Burps started to erupt around the room as if a chorus of bullfrogs had all started calling for potential mates at the same time.
I gazed around the room and saw the looks of misery written on the faces of my fellow recruits. That’s when I started to worry. Our CC’s had just done something nice for us. That did not track. As far I could tell, their entire existence was devoted to making us as miserable as possible at all times. I realized that a terrible, terrible mistake had just been made.
The CC’s flipped from the fun smiley normal nice guys act to their normal demeanor of angrier than usual red wasps after a kid shoots the nest with a super soaker water gun. They screamed for us to jump to attention, and we responded at once, albeit with more moans and groans than I had ever heard before from the group. They started us off by doing jumping jacks, with a cavoite. We had to clap on every fifth jump, all the way to fifty total, and if someone clapped a jump early, the count reset to zero.
Normally, jumping jacks were the easiest of the exercises thrown at us in boot camp. Two greasy pizzas and two foamy root beers changed the game, and not in a good way. Of course, when you gather eighty guys in a room, some are going to be mathematically challenged. Have you ever wanted to grab someone’s throat and choke them to death just because of not being able to count? I have. We had to restart at least six times. On one attempt, someone clapped at jumping jack 44 and the cursing was so explosive that I was sure the windows would blow out.
Then came the 8-count body builders. If you are not familiar with that exercise, you have led a much easier life than I. From a standing position, you drop into a plank, do 3 push-ups, jump your feet apart, jump your feet back together, then do a burpee to return to a standing position. Repeat without pausing, until your CC says to stop…or sweet death grants you release.
The 200 or so jumping jacks had already done their damage, and now having to drop into the crouch position to kick into the burpee made it feel like all the contents of my churning stomach wanted to rush up and back out into the world. I could see that the guys around me were feeling the same, as eyes bulged, and complexions went from flushed to pale to green with nausea. I’d like to tell you there was no puking, since this is a food article, but no…there was so much puking. I consider it to this day as one of my most impressive displays of sheer willpower that I did not.
I am older and wiser now. I would never eat that pizza or drink a fizzy sugar laden root beer now that I understand nutrition and how food impacts how I feel and perform. The truth is we all felt terrible even before the forced exercise torture began, because that food is not meant for any activity other than lying on a couch in misery.
It’s too bad I didn’t have my zucchini crust Caesar chicken pizza back then. I could have eaten several slices of that and destroyed a workout with ease. My body would have been fueled with protein, complex carbs, healthy fats, and vitamins and minerals. My muscles would have had the fuel needed to repair and grow stronger. Instead, I felt poisoned and barely survived. I should have learned my lesson right then on how food has such power and influence over how we feel on a daily basis, but it took many more years before I finally figured that out.
If you don’t like zucchini, do not fret. This does not taste like zucchini. It tastes like pizza. Not just any pizza, it tastes like great pizza. It tastes so good that it matches how good it will make you feel. Who wouldn’t want a pizza that tastes great and is good for you? You never know when some deranged Navy Chief is going to make you do jumping jacks and pushups until you collapse.
Be ready for them at all times. This pizza will do that for you.
Zucchini Caesar Chicken Pizza:
Ingredients:
2 organic zucchini, deseeded and shredded
2 eggs, pasture raised
168 grams by weight shredded mozzarella cheese (1 1/2 cups)
42 grams shredded parmesan cheese (1/2 cup)
1/2 tsp sea salt, pepper, dried oregano, basil, parsely (x2 – 1 for the crust, one for the chicken)
1 package pasture raised chicken breasts, diced
1 red onion, sliced
1 package shiitake mushrooms
1 can diced green chilies
4 ounces grass fed cream cheese, softened
1/2 cup Primal Kitchen Caesar dressing
3 slices no sugar nitrate free bacon
sliced avocado
1 cup shredded mozzarella
Instructions:
See the list of all the Shirtless Chef recipes at www.mysaline.com/shirtless.