This is the pita trick. It consists of people being 1. totally, irrevocably sick of normal delivery and/or frozen pizza and 2. unwilling to make the effort to make an actual pizza crust. Said people then 3. get some pitas and 4. use them as the pizza crust instead. They turn out 5. thin, crispy and perfect.
You need pita and things to put on said pita. Nearly anything will work: zucchini, feta, red onion and walnuts, for example. We were doing fairly traditional pizza, so here are my things: (I cannot STAND the word "toppings", how about you?)
You can of course make an actual serious pizza sauce to put on said pitas, but what good is that if your ultimate goal is lazy sustenance? That said, we always have actual decent tomato puree in the house, as opposed to grody brand corn syrup nonsense.
Each pita gets some olive oil first. Olive oil. Then it gets some tomato, a little more olive oil, some garlic, and some basil and oregano. It is always a good idea to add some salt to canned tomato anything, to take away the tinny taste, but in this case I forgot. It didn't really matter, though, since I had plenty of salty cheese.
I made two kinds of pita: mushroom and jalapeño. The mushroom got lots of mozzarella and parmesan; the jalapeño got only a little of each. This worked admirably. Then I sprinkled on a little crushed parsley, previously fresh but dried out over a week, and stuck the business in the oven at 425F.
It only takes a few minutes for these to heat, melt, and brown on top. Check them after five minutes or so, or as soon as you start to smell everything turn delicious.
For dessert, have some of these:
PLUMS. Also a little apricot. This one came off a tree at the side of the road during my week of 30-mile commute. There is nothing like fruit off the trees at the side of the road, especially when they're clearly just accidental trees at the side of the county road from which you can pick fruit with impunity. The plums, in contrast, came from the store, since our neighbors already picked all the plums off our apartment complex trees and made them into two huge batches of jam, two jars of which we now have in our greedy, conniving hands. Er, pantry.