As a former New Yorker, I used to live on pizza. (Or, “slices”, as we said in Brooklyn.) I had a handful of go-to spots, places with thin crust that’s been tossed to perfection, savory sauce, and just enough cheese. But when I moved I largely gave up my pizza habit. It’s not as easy to come by restaurants selling slices to go, and the consistency is just different. Or so I thought.
A few days ago I stopped into one of the few local pizza chains that do offer individual slices. Most were piled with artisanal toppings—things like roasted squash and apples—but on that particular day I spied what looked like a classic slice. Fresh mozzarella, a little red sauce peeking thorough, and not much else. I ordered one, sprinkled on a few fresh pepper flakes, and was immediately transported. It tasted like home.
Still, my waistline has been happy to not have to deal with regular stops for slices. Just how many calories had that pitstop cost? Around 272, by my math (and Self.com).
What were some options for burning off 272 calories?
I could have mowed the lawn for 42 minutes.
I could have played a pick-up game of soccer for 33 minutes.
I could have done a barre workout for 48 minutes.
I chose barre. Love that class!