By Last week of school before summer break, and the kitchen at Hodge is running on pure adrenaline and sentimentality. The teachers are exhausted, the kids are feral with excitement, and I'm making the "greatest hits" menu I planned — homemade chicken nuggets on Monday, pizza on Tuesday, mac and cheese Wednesday, tacos on Thursday. Friday is a half day, so it's just snacks, but I'm making cookies because these children deserve cookies.
There's a little boy — I'm going to call him Devon, that's not his real name — who's been coming through my line all year looking hungry. Not just school-hungry. Life-hungry. He's small for his age, quiet, wears the same three shirts in rotation, and he always — always — asks if there's seconds. I give them to him every time. This week, on mac and cheese day, he came back for thirds and he looked at me and said, "Miss Dot, this is the best food I ever ate." And I smiled and gave him an extra scoop and I said, "Baby, you come back every day and I'll make sure you're full."
After he walked away, I went into the supply closet and I cried. Because I know that boy. I was that child. I was the kid whose best meal was the school lunch, the kid who wore the same three outfits, the kid who was hungry in ways that had nothing to do with food. Hattie Pearl fed me, and now I feed them, and the circle doesn't close — it just keeps getting wider.
I've been doing this for thirty-three years and it still gets me. The little ones with the empty eyes and the full plates. The ones who say thank you like they mean it, because nobody else feeds them like this. That's why I can't retire yet. Not yet. Not while there are Devons in that line.
At home, the garden is in full production. Tomatoes are sizing up, peppers are coming in hot — literally — and I made my first batch of hot sauce this season. Earl's recipe, really, though he'll tell you it's mine. Cayenne, habanero, vinegar, garlic, salt. I bottle it in the mason jars Mama used to use, and I label each one by hand. This batch I labeled "2018 — The Year Kayla Became a Nurse." Because every jar of hot sauce is a timestamp, baby. Every jar marks a season.
Now go on and feed somebody.
Pizza Tuesday was always the day the line moved fastest — the kids could smell it before they ever got through the door. After thirty-three years of watching faces light up at a hot slice, I wanted to bring that same uncomplicated joy home with me. This Easy Pizza Dip is everything pizza day stands for: warm, cheesy, and good enough that even the quietest child in your line will come back for seconds.
Easy Pizza Dip
Prep Time: 10 minutes | Cook Time: 20 minutes | Total Time: 30 minutes | Servings: 8
Ingredients
- 8 oz cream cheese, softened
- 1/2 cup sour cream
- 1 teaspoon Italian seasoning
- 1/2 teaspoon garlic powder
- 1/4 teaspoon crushed red pepper flakes (optional)
- 3/4 cup pizza sauce
- 1 1/2 cups shredded mozzarella cheese, divided
- 1/4 cup mini pepperoni slices
- 2 tablespoons sliced black olives (optional)
- 2 tablespoons diced green bell pepper (optional)
- Pita chips, bread, or crostini for serving
Instructions
- Preheat. Preheat your oven to 375°F. Lightly grease a small baking dish or cast iron skillet.
- Make the base. In a medium bowl, beat together the softened cream cheese, sour cream, Italian seasoning, garlic powder, and red pepper flakes until smooth and well combined.
- Layer the dip. Spread the cream cheese mixture evenly across the bottom of the prepared dish. Spoon the pizza sauce over the top in an even layer, then sprinkle on 1 cup of the shredded mozzarella.
- Add toppings. Scatter the mini pepperoni, olives, and bell pepper over the cheese layer. Top with the remaining 1/2 cup mozzarella.
- Bake. Bake uncovered for 18–20 minutes, until the cheese is melted, bubbly, and just beginning to brown at the edges.
- Serve warm. Let the dip rest for 2–3 minutes before serving. Serve with pita chips, toasted crostini, or sliced baguette alongside for dipping.
Nutrition (per serving)
Calories: 210 | Protein: 9g | Fat: 16g | Carbs: 6g | Fiber: 1g | Sodium: 420mg