I Love You, Dad Pizza

I remember years ago, one cloudy afternoon when my dad decided to take me to Vino’s Pizza and Brewery not too long after my 21st birthday. He ordered two beer samplers and then proceeded to go through each style with me. My dad had been a BJCP (Beer Judge Certification Program) Judge for years and he took this as the perfect opportunity to teach me about beer styles. 

It was probably January or February of 2006, and I had recently returned from my first tour to Iraq. Growing up, he had given me tidbits but never gave me an actual class before. To him, a beer tasting was a rite of passage for me. Ken Haycook was determined that his daughter would go out into the world knowing how to drink beer.

In honor of Father’s Day, I made I Love You, Dad Pizza. I made pizza crust with 6 Bridges Cream Ale from Vino’s. A few months back, I did a beer and cookie pairing but wasn’t able to include Vino’s in the mix. Given this memory, I felt it deserved something a little more special. 

My dad’s favorite things were good beer, good food, good music, and a funny story. Among his favorite foods to make was pizza. After he got a bread machine for Christmas, we would have family pizza nights all the time while I was growing up. He would make the crusts, and we would top them with whatever we wanted. They always turned out perfect. 

This was my first time making pizza crust from scratch. Although it didn’t turn out nearly as perfect, the crust was still tasty even though a little tough. The cream ale was the right decision. I look forward to trying the recipe again and see if I can do a better job in the future. I made four kinds of pizza with the beer crust. I made a Hawaiian, a Margarita, and a Supreme. The true I Love You, Dad Pizza was something he ate all the time: pepperoni, mushrooms, Jimmy Dean sausage, and anchovies.

Yes, anchovies are the very reason every boyfriend I have had won’t share a pizza with me. 

As I reached adulthood, Dad and I would have father/daughter pizza and beer nights so we could bond. We would have pizza and watch a selected movie with a theme. The night before I left for Basic Training, we watched Full Metal Jacket. Before my second tour to Iraq, it was G.I. Jane. The day he died, I watched Good Morning, Vietnam. 

Fast forward to 2019. I am in the back of Diamond Bear Brewing Company, having to talk at my dad’s memorial service. At this point, I was still finding it difficult to form complete sentences. Luckily, I knew how to speak in front of a crowd, so no one noticed. So much of my life has changed since then. I frequently wonder what he would say or think. I can still hear him laughing, and I imagine him looking at me with that twinkle in his eye. He would say the same thing he would tell me every day before school, “keep your head down, and your butt covered, and always remember and never forget, I love you very much.”