Pineapple pizza

In mid-spring and April, the wind is warm, and the earth has a vibrant view, and the grass is green, and the peach trees and almond trees are dressed in tender spring. The early return of swallows occasionally overwhelms the water, the spring season is dry and when eating bananas and pineapple. Oh, that's a mistake. I don't usually eat pineapple, I'm afraid of acid, but I like it for cooking. They also particularly like to smell the pineapple's fruit, put a few pineapple in the house to make it yellow, and gradually fill the air with tempting pineapple, and walk by unexpectedly makes it look like you're walking into an orchard. (Sweet, serious problem) There are several pineapples in the family that are already very yellow, and I think it's gonna be a mess, so I made two pineapple pizzas today. Eight inches, six inches. If only an eight inch could be reduced by one third, the same would be true, if only six inches by two. At the same time, you can mix it together and make a big one that doesn't have to use a pizza plate, which can be the thickness you want, and it's the same with a straight grill. I'm a little bit thicker than a dollar coin, because the roast is thicker.) Pizza sauce can be made on its own or can be bought off-the-shelf, and some people can just brush a ketchup. This is also random, and the pizza itself is a free-meat meal, with pizza skin, sauce, cheese cracks, whatever you like to eat as a chorus, ovens, stoves, and hands。