Death by pizza?

Two seders in two days. Total number of people fed with one 15-quart pot of matzoh ball soup: 25. And there are still leftovers. (My brisket--the best I've ever made by far--didn't fare as well; there were requests for more long after there was no more to be had.) But two picky little boys declared the meat delicious, a skinny-as-a-rail 10-year-old girl gushed over the matzoh balls, and my husband ate my first-ever-attempt at homemade horseradish sauce with gusto and love in his eyes. The way to that man's heart is through his stomach lining, I tell you. MAN, that stuff was potent!

On a related-only-because-it's-about-food note: I was looking at some food-safety tips today for work purposes, and found a USDA tip sheet that declares that pizza that's been left out for more than two hours needs to be tossed. And I laughed--LAUGHED, I say--in the face of danger. Because, really. Wouldn't every college dorm from Syracuse to San Diego be filled with youthful corpses if that were true? I mean, I had cold-pizza breakfasts (usually already-picked-over, lacking-all-edible-toppings, and covered with god-only-knows what kinds of ashes and debris) several times a week for four years straight, and lived to tell the tale.

Although, just thinking about it now is making my stomach churn...