Personal favorite: mushroom sausage, maybe also olive.
I have autistically strong opinions about pizza rightness. I am a Pizzatarian of the New York canon, and we recognize only the following toppings as consecrated:
Sausage
Pepperoni
Onions
Mushrooms
Green pepper
Anchovies
Olives
Garlic
Toppings outside the eightfold Canon are unPizzaly.
Three post-baking aftertoppings are generally recognized: red pepper flakes, grated Parmesan, and garlic powder 9which tastes usefully different from the pre-bake Garlic entry). Pizza does not need salt.
The Chicago Canon admits other toppings, but my heritage is mid-Lannic.
Now that I live in R'stan, the nearest epicenters of culinary culture are West Coast metropolides, with such satanic aberrations as artichoke, ham, pineapple, dried goat feed (spinach, still-recognizable pieces of Hellfruit aka tomato, eggplant even), nuts, twigs, berries, Pacific Rim weirdnesses, oy, the abomination of desolation.
Call me drive-through Amish, but I still adhere to the old ways. Pizza, as revealed to our forefathers, is thin-crust, has one cheese (at most one point five, for little melty cubes of yellow), and anywhere from 0 to 8 out of the Eight Consecrated Toppings of the New York canon. I leave the nouvelle weirdpies and quiches in wolf's clothing to the effete, the hipster antifashionistas who will spend $180.- on a shirt designed to precisely replicate the Salvation Army "$1 for 2" look, the drivers of hybrid Lexuses. For verily, mine is a voice in the desert crying "Pitcher of Bud wi'dat, capiche?"
cn