During one of said long phone conversations, R and I discussed the bizarre nature of pizza in Europe, and the ultimately strange and unpalatable toppings we have no choice but to choose from.
I'll give you some examples:
an egg, cracked in the middle and left to bake
I once got a pizza at the bakery that I thought had green peppers and artichoke hearts on it. Nope. Buried beneath that cheese was not my lovely peppers, but potatoes, green beans and salmon. Ew. I couldn't eat pizza, potatoes, green beans or salmon for two weeks after that.
Not once have I seen a pizza in Paris with any sort of peppers on it, and if it does have olives, there will (guaranteed) be hairy anchovies as well. So far, my safe bet has been "La Reine" (the Queen) which is ham, cheese and mushrooms (though they often call the ham "épaule" which means shoulder, but I know it really is ham). Dr. B goes for "Le Roi" (king) which adds an egg. I really don't understand the egg thing, but he loves eggs and will pretty much put them on anything.
I would love to take a sack from the grocery over to our local pizza restaurant (-15% if you get it to go) and ask them to put on green peppers, onions, green and black olives, and pork sausage. They are Italian at La Trastavere, so I don't think they'd mind, but they go with the crowd here in Paris, and for some reason, that means potatoes and green beans.
But as for me, I like the supreme.
Diverse and adaptable
You enjoy the full buffet of life
It's hard to you play favorites with friends... or flavors
There's very little that you dislike!
Except, of course, potatoes on my pizza. I'm sorry if I am being very, very American, but... yuck.