Not every Friday, but most Fridays, my mother made homemade pizza. She mixed the dough and rolled it out and stretched it over many pans to feed our big family. She spread the dough with olive oil, then homemade sauce and mozzarella cheese. In the beginning, she only made cheese pizza and pizza with Italian sausage. Later, she branched out to pepperoni and vegetable pizza. In the early days, when we lived in Colorado Springs, Colorado, pizza night was spent in front of the TV watching Bonanza. Later, it revolved around a big, long dining table that we all gathered around, and mom was always fond of lighting candles and making even an ordinary dinner night seem special. We would eat pizza and drink Coca Colas and talk together. That pizza was the best we've ever had and there is no commercial pizza that can compare.