David would point out that anchovies are, too, and he was pretty sure he and his mom were the only ones who really liked them on a pizza. "It's not a pizza unless it's got at least three kinds of greasy meat on it at our house," he admitted. "I think Dad might be allergic to most veggies. But it's not going to kill me, yeah?" His eyes twinkled a little under his floppy brown hair. "I wouldn't want you have to go confess to your rabbi, or whatever.

"Besides," he added as he leaned back, glancing over his shoulder at the waitress who was finally heading their way. "I hear they're good for me. Are you good for me, Izak?"