Win two free seats to the Meet the Masters pizza dinner and demo at Marco's Coal-Fired Pizzeria

• Italian sausage. Mushrooms. Jalapenos. 

• My dream pizza would be one transported from upstate NY where I grew up!

• My dream pizza came and went in Italy. After arriving a tired, poor students traveling to Europe we found a trattoria in Pisa around midnight. It was like I was smelling garlic and tasting cheese all over again for the first time and complemented so well by smokey tomatoes on thin, charred crust. Love at first bite. Never recreated, the memory is bittersweet!

• My Dream Pizza: I am selfish...when my perfect pizza comes out of the oven I am already eyeballing my perfect slice: a little char around the rim and on the bottom... tomato sauce with a subtle tang alongside tender milky mozzarella - but not soupy or watery. A slice can stand on its own or be eaten knife and fork. Finished with some Sicilian oregano, sea salt, fresh ground pepper and olive oil. It doesn't get any better than this for me. Cooked with love and a little bit of anger. Now that's what I'm talking about.

• I've eaten my fair share of pizzas up and down the Italian coast and through cobbled alleyways. But there's just nothing compared to NY style heaven. "A stick to your ribs, taste-bud endorphin inducing" kind of good, comes in the form of a brick-oven charred thin chewy dough caressed in herb rich marinara and topped with savory melted gooey mozzarella and fresh basil. The best way to eat a dream pizza slice? Folded in half.

• Wood fire, dough stretched thin enough to see through, a hint of San Marzano, a lovely fresh buffala, a light char with just a whisper of a rise and the smallest sprig of fresh basil for the nose.

• My dream desert pizza is Nutela and Strawberries rolled and deep fried

• My dream pizza comes out of the wood fired oven in my backyard...think and crispy. But I am already attending the session on Monday night...

• Extra cheese and sausage, from Luigi's on 19th, sweet 16 and Susie, in the back seat. Sad that dreams can only come true once.

• The fried pizza @ Villagio made dreams I didn't know I had come true.

• Grimaldi's under the Brooklyn Bridge. I am almost having a foodgasm just thinking about it. Thin and crispy coal fired crust, simple sauce tasting like the tomatoes were plucked off the vine in the back of the restuarant, fresh mozz, and few leaves of basil. Better order your own, this one is all mine!

• Thin crust, with thin slices of beef or Lamb, melty feta and buffalo mozzerella cheese, arugula or spinach, a dash olive oil and red wine vinegar, cracked pepper and cherry tomatoes... why? Mmmmmmmmmmmm. That's why.

• Easy. Two slices of peperoni and a side of spicy ranch from Cosmos in Boulder. It soaks up all the beer from the night and the spice and tang of the ranch are just perfect. (must be enjoyed with friends to talk about dumb things to be fully enjoyed)

• Mmmm my pizza is Mediterranean style, crispy thin, with fresh mozz, basil, tomatoes and prosciutto. The husband however, love more of the deep dish pepperoni with onions and garlic. Le sigh.

• My dream pizza isn't necessarily about the specific ingredients or "who and where they where trained" but a moment frozen in time...it includes the freshness of whats available momentarily, the art of perfection with heat, flour, water, etc and more importantly; the people with which I share it. The beauty of pizza, atleast good pizza, is really the people you share it with. As intimate as homemade fondue on a snowy night. It is the memory frozen in time of the first bite and the looks in everyone's faces. The homey feeling you get as your impatience causes the roof of your mouth to get burnt but you still don't stop. Most people that love food and pizza relate their experiences with pizza. So with all that said, my most favorite pizza was the first one my young daughter and I made together. She was two and we made it all from scratch as it should be. Great flour, San marzano tomatoes, and fresh mozz were the pure ingredients but it was the sharing of something pure and untainted that was the winner. It has and always will be our favorite frozen moment in time. Eating should be done that way and usually other things will fall into place.

• My dream pizza is what seems today like it was a dream. Brooklyn in the 1960's, Tony's pizzeria on Sutter Avenue. Friday night with my mom, dad and sister. I can still smell the sauce and remember its taste all these years later. The dream lives on.

• Simple.....cheese and pepperoni.....Friday nights, early 80s, Cleveland, Ohio. Mom placed the order but I got to ride in the front seat with Dad, unshowered from second shift, to Steve's Pizza. If I was good, he'd always find a quater or two in that rigid, Atlas Bolt and Screw issued uniform for the Pac Mac or Centipede games in the waiting area. For that 9 yr. old the ride home smelled of hard work and Italy.....I still dream about that pizza.

• My dream pizza is actually inspired by a sandwich my mom used to make me ... goat cheese, caramelized onion, prosciutto and tomatoes on a thin chewy crust.

• My dream pizza exists in my mind and in my kitchen, but nowhere else; it's a collision of a classic Italian crust and Alsatian flammkuchen toppings. The lightly charred and bubbled crust supports layers of creme fraiche, gruyere, caramelized onions and smoky lardons. The hoppiness and mild farmhouse funk from a schooner of Thiriez Extra perfectly balances the sweet, creamy and smoky flavors of the flammkuchen.

• New Haven. Hot Oil

• Arugula, San Marzano tomatoes, parmigiano reggiano, prosciutto. Crispy, crunch and fresh.

• New York pizza with fresh italian sausage and gooey cheese that you must eat with two hands and no plate.

• My favorite pizza is a classic and simple margharita. The creation of a pizzaioli whose passion for dough, as well as an understandings of the nuances of temperature and char. Oh yeah...and that there's always one more slice left.

• Eh, I have to go sappy. My dream pizza is one that I have had too. No Italy or anything though. Fat snowflakes falling on Colfax and my friends meeting for slices and beer at The Atomic Cowboy. I can dream about happy hour, can't I?

• My dream pizza. I remember her. It was at a simple cafe outside Pompeii. A wood-fired crispy crust bubbled around the edges. A simple but flavorful sauce, with chunks of vine-ripened tomatoes. Slices of fresh buffalo mozzarella. A few fragrant leaves of basil. Heaven.

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