My Mother & I Made Pizza from Scratch at New Cairo’s Pizza Picasso

Why order pizza when you can create your own? That’s exactly what my mom and I thought during a spontaneous evening at Pizza Picasso, the latest venture from the founders of Suzette's, a new pizzeria located in New Cairo's Leven Square.

The cozy atmosphere set the tone as soon as we walked in. Bright orange and green accents, paired with cubism-inspired artwork, gave the space a creative and playful vibe. It felt more like stepping into an artist’s studio than a pizza place. We were handed green aprons and guided to our stations by the wood-fire oven, ready to embrace our inner amateur pizza chefs.

“What do you mean you’ve never made your own pizza?” my mom asked. While I had certainly cooked my fair share of frozen pizzas during my college days, crafting one from scratch was new territory. My mom, however, was in her element, moving through the steps like a seasoned pro.

The process was as fun as it was straightforward. It started with tossing the dough—a task that quickly proved challenging for me. My first attempts resulted in uneven edges and an almost-torn middle that would have surely earned me a scolding from Gordon Ramsay. My mom, of course, nailed hers on the first try.

Next came spreading the marinara sauce, an unexpectedly satisfying step. There’s something therapeutic about swirling the red sauce across the dough until it’s perfectly coated. We joked about our family’s perfectionist streak—though I was clearly the least qualified to claim the title.

Then came the toppings, which, according to my mom, reveal a lot about a person. She opted for a classic combination of olives and fresh arugula, her choices precise and deliberate. I, on the other hand, embraced a more adventurous approach, piling on truffle and olives with a slightly overzealous hand.

We couldn’t stop laughing as we compared our creations. Hers was refined and perfectly crisped; mine was chaotic but, as she diplomatically put it, “ambitious.” We teased each other about whose pizza would turn out better—my mom questioning my culinary skills, and me accusing her of playing it too safe.

Sliding the pizzas into the wood-fire oven was the most satisfying part. The smell of the baking dough, the crackling of the fire, and the anticipation of the final result made the experience unforgettable. Once baked, we pulled them out on wooden peels, sprinkled arugula on top, and traded slices to critique each other’s work.

“Yours is actually good… for a newbie,” my mom admitted with a smile.

The best part, of course, was eating it. The dough was light and airy, with just the right amount of chew. The fresh, tender chicken and flavorful cheeses elevated the experience, and even the crust—something I’d usually leave behind—was irresistible when dipped in creamy ranch. To finish, we shared a creamy vanilla shake. No, we didn’t make it ourselves, but it was a perfect way to relax and savor our creations.

For us, this mother-son outing became more than just a meal; it was a chance to laugh, create, and enjoy a night where even the worst pizza-maker could end up with a delicious slice.