My Take on the Pineapple Debate

Everyone’s got an opinion about pineapple on pizza.

I, myself, was ambivalent. I would never choose to order it, and I might even have scrunched up my face in mild disgust when asked about it, but I definitely couldn’t care enough to choose a side. 

When I began my deep dive into the world of making pizza during the summer of 2020, I was nowhere near being an aficionado . The closest I’d come to eating an “artisanal” pie in LA was a roman-style square slice from Nancy Silverton’s Triple Beam in Highland Park, which, though flavorful,  doesn’t necessarily qualify as “craft.”

With every new dough I made, Youtube tutorial I watched and local Italian deli I discovered, my world opened up to a vast realm of pizza on and off the web I had no idea existed. It was July 2020 and we were settling into the realization that our lives were definitely not going back to normal anytime soon, so I started spending my days consuming ample amounts of information and turning my pandemic malaise into ample amounts of pizza.

Aside from understanding the importance of flour types, the process of fermentation, and discovering the marvelous effects of adding Calabrian chili to any dish, what I learned is that pizza is a heated topic. People who make pizza care a lot, and they all have strong opinions about this or that. Organic, local flours or imported Italian ones. Cooking down marinara or keeping it fresh. Basil before the bake or after.

People take pizza seriously, clearly. Italy went so far as to launch the Associazione Verace Pizza Napoletana in 2009 that created strict guidelines to delineate what is a true Neapolitan pie (San Marzano or bust!)

But still, the most common conflict that afflicts pizza makers and eaters alike, that can make or break a first date, ruin a slumber party, or offend someone’s nonna,  is of course The Pineapple Debate. 

Why do people fight so much about pineapple on pizza? And who started it?

Turns out it was in 1962 when the Greek restaurant owner, Sam Panopoulos, decided to have some fun with his menu at his shop in Ontario, Canada. Story goes that he had just added pizza to the menu in an effort to attract new customers, and, to make things interesting, he decided to add canned pineapple and ham to one of his pies. 

I wanted some hard data  so I decided to run a survey amongst my own pizza community on Instagram and see for myself what the divide looked like. Amongst 122 people who participated, 62% voted for the fruit. “Haters gonna hate!” they said. “Because why not?” they asked.  “Sweet and Savory, baby!”

The other side of the pineapple debate was equally snarky. 

“Tropical fruit doesn’t belong on thick bread and tomato sauce.”

“Too acidic!”

“Gatekeeping only prevents people from enjoying pizza!”

So now that I’d found myself swept up by the trials and tribulations of my own pizza journey, I knew I had to play the game. I knew if I wanted to keep up with my fellow pizza peers and fully commit to my newfound tribe, I too must form an opinion.

First, I needed to find the best recipe. My research took me through a few conflicting instructions, running me in circles while I tried to understand the science. Some said to cook the pineapple first. Some said don’t. Some said purée it for more flavor, some said top large chunks post-bake. Confused, lost, hungry, I decided to try it in two ways. 

One with small pieces and one with a blended purée, both topped before the pizzas hit the oven. Some mozzarella, some grated parmigiano, and a few thin slices of prosciutto. 

I took a bite, closed my eyes, and oh my god. I felt my life change with every activated taste bud. The sweet, juiciness of the fruit, the saltiness of the prosciutto, held together by the creaminess of the mozzarella and brightness of the marinara…What are people fighting about?! How had it taken me this long to get here? And where can I take it next?

It’s in the juxtaposition of all the combined flavors and textures where this pizza wins. It’s almost scientific why it works so well. 

But I get the haters. I also get the purists. Whether you look into its origins in the streets of Naples in the 19th century or into your own past as a 10 year old at a bowling alley birthday party in 2002, pizza has a history that’s personal to each of us. 

For me, pizza is my pandemic discovery. It opened up my life to a whole realm of endless possibilities, a realm that I’ve come to learn is my kryptonite. Flour, water, salt and sometimes yeast come together to form a canvas for creativity, for new experiences, for tradition, and for heated conversations up to 932 degrees Fahrenheit. 

So here’s my question for you: What about kiwi on pizza? And furthermore, why not?