I MAKEPIZZA.REAL GOOD.
I'm AJ. I've worked basically every job in a pizzeria, and I got tired of watching good pizza get rushed out the door. So I started Pushing Pizza to do it the right way.
Batch #01 · 20 pies · dropped every week
IT AIN'T THAT COMPLICATED.
I make pizza. I want it to be really, really good.
For years I worked in pizzerias and watched really good food get wrecked by the little stuff. Inconsistent portions. Recipes that got rushed or just weren't good. A make line running on empty because the people working it were broke and burned out. And during a rush? Quality straight up becomes an afterthought.
Pushing Pizza is me doing the opposite of all that. The right amount of everything. Dough that's actually good. Sauce that's actually good. Ingredients that are actually good, and a pizza that looks good before it ever touches the box.
The goal is simple. I want you to open that box and go "YO!!!!" Or take that first bite and get the eyes-roll-back, knees-get-weak reaction. One customer already summed up exactly what I'm chasing and told me flat out: "Make my sh*t every time!"
Because here's the thing I keep thinking about: was that bite worth an hour of your work?
I know most of the people ordering from me grind all week long. That dinner might be a full hour of their wages. So when they hand that over for a pizza, I need them to feel like it was money well spent every single time.
KEEPING ITREAL.
"Pushing Pizza" came from the phrase pushin' P. One night, while I was talking about the idea of actually starting a pizza thing, I kept saying stuff like:
"I'm just trying to keep it real. Pushin' P type stuff…"
… "Pushin' Pizza."
And the joke just stuck.
For me, keeping it real isn't a slogan; it's a standard. Good flavor. Good quality. A fair price. No bullshit. You should know exactly what you're getting: a pizza made with care that's worth what you paid for it.
I want you to pick up your pizza, take that first bite, and think, "Yeah. I'd buy this again."
I'm not pretending every pizza has to be some fancy luxury thing. Sometimes you just need a good cheese or pepperoni at the end of a long day. Sometimes you're feeding ten people at a family thing. Sometimes the homies are over playing games. Sometimes nobody wants to leave the house until someone finally says it:
"We're getting Pushing Pizza tonight."
That right there is the whole brand.
THE COOL COUSIN'S PIZZA.
You know the pizza the cool cousin brings to the family get-together? The one where somebody spent a little more on it, and everybody notices? That's the lane Pushing Pizza sits in. A little better, a little more thought put in, a little more care put in.
There will always be the affordable classics too. Cheese. Pepperoni. Because sometimes people just need good pizza without dropping a fortune. But the specialty pies? Those should feel like an experience.
My personal favorite is a deluxe-style pie: pepperoni, mushrooms, bell peppers (a mix of red, yellow & orange), banana peppers, salami, provolone. The banana peppers, salami, and pepperoni bring the salt and the tang. The mushrooms, bell peppers, and provolone keep it balanced instead of just hitting you over the head.
Then there's the Alfredo pizza. Lemon-pepper-seasoned chicken, spinach, and mushrooms on a creamy Alfredo base. The spinach and mushrooms bring an earthy flavor and a pop of color, and the lemon-pepper chicken gives it something you don't get from a regular pie.
The point is never to pile random toppings on just because more sounds better. The point is balance, flavor, and a pizza people actually remember.
THE DOUGHAIN'T JUSTA DELIVERY BOY.
I use a poolish-based dough, and it's my favorite after years of pulling pies. It comes out softer and fluffier but still gets a good crunch. I work honey into the poolish because, through a lot of trial and error, it's added real flavor and played well with the dough.
Here's the thing I want people to get: the dough isn't just the thing holding the toppings. The dough, the sauce, the cheese, the toppings- it's all the pizza together.
I try to source local when it makes sense. The honey's made right here in Michigan. The cheeses, flours, spices- I'm selective about all of it and blend it to build the flavor of each pie. I even put together a flour blend I genuinely love and have shared it with other people.
A friend's son, nine years old at the time, tried it and told me it was the best pizza he'd ever had, then kept asking for more. Kids are brutally honest, so that compliment meant a lot to me.
THAT'S ME. AJ.
I've worked in the food industry, and pizza specifically, in basically every position you can imagine. The make line. Morning prep. The ovens during a rush. Phones. Folding boxes. Boxing orders. Topping and cutting pizzas. Opening stores, closing stores, delivering orders, putting away truck orders. Handling remakes, customer complaints, special requests. Late closes, early opens, call-ins, drama. And yeah, I've absolutely messed up orders - and sometimes discovered that "mistake" actually tasted incredible. Shout-out to free messed-up pizzas.
I've seen the good, the bad, and the absolutely ridiculous parts of working in pizza. Some of the best pies I've ever had were never on a menu. They were the ones employees made for themselves after a long shift, or a random combo somebody threw together that accidentally became amazing.
With how much I love pizza, I joke that I'm an honorary Ninja Turtle at this point.
But the story goes further back than the pizzerias.
I grew up with pizza connected to family. My brother, a year older than me, experimented with food when we were kids. My cousin RJ, eight years older, started bringing different pies home from different pizzerias, then started working in restaurants and making his own. Some of those childhood pizzas were far from perfect. They were made with overly sweet homemade sauce, grandma-style dough, were over-sauced, and had the occasional questionable texture.
But that's what made them memorable. Pizza wasn't always just "we're hungry, let's order something." Sometimes it meant "the family is getting together." Cousins, brothers, sisters, mom, uncles, aunts, grandparents, food, jokes, everybody in the same room.
A lot of family has since passed away, and that tie to those memories is part of why pizza means more to me than just making another food product. A piece of what I'm doing with Pushing Pizza is bringing that feeling to others: the kind of pizza you remember. The kind that becomes part of the night instead of just sitting in the middle of the table.
WHY AM IDOING THIS?
During COVID, I left the food industry for customer service, which led to a corporate sales position. I realized something pretty straightforward: if I'm going to spend my time helping people or selling something, I'd much rather be selling something I actually believe in.
Pizza.
People around me had been encouraging the idea for years. I just wasn't ready to take it seriously. Then, while I was teaching myself how to build websites, I made Pushing Pizza as a mock project. I looked at what I'd built and thought:
"This looks legit. I'd order from this."
That was the moment it stopped being a hypothetical. Now I'm testing the waters with limited pre-orders and carryout runs in Grand Haven. The plan is to start small, do it right, and go from there.
KEEPING IT SMALL & SHARP.
Right now, Pushing Pizza is a small operation doing limited pre-orders and carryout runs in Grand Haven. The long-term plan has never been to become some giant pizza corporation.
Eventually I'd love to have a couple of food trucks, do festivals and events on the regular, and maybe open one or two brick-and-mortar spots focused mostly on carryout and delivery. Think of that local food vendor everybody looks forward to seeing. The one you're genuinely excited to spot at an event. That's the spot I want to be in. The dream is for people to see us and think:
"Oh man, Pushing Pizza is here."
Not because the business got massive, but because people genuinely wanted it there.
Most important: growth can never come at the expense of quality. I never want Pushing Pizza to be the kind of place where people say "it depends what night you go" or "it depends who's working." If this thing works, the whole point is to keep the quality and consistency that made people love it in the first place.
WHATSUCCESSMEANS.
Look, success starts simple: being able to support a family, take care of my mom, and build a stable future. That's the foundation.
But eventually, success should mean being able to do that for other people too. Giving back to the community should become a real part of Pushing Pizza as the business grows.
The ultimate measure was never just going to be how many pizzas I sold. It's whether this became something people genuinely enjoyed. Whether people felt like they got their money's worth. Whether it created good memories and whether it gave me the ability to help other people.
GOOD PIZZA.GOOD PEOPLE.GOOD VALUE.
That's Pushing Pizza.
Batch #01 · 20 pies · reserve by Thu 6pm