Ozempic Pizza: Why I Created WegovYum to Fight Back. Let’s talk about the real threat to the pizza business. It’s not cauliflower crust. It’s not gluten-free air pies. It’s not even pineapple. No, my friends—our biggest enemy right now is the silent but deadly duo of Ozempic and Wegovy.

You’ve seen it. You’ve felt it. Tables of four who used to order two pies, garlic knots, and a meatball hero “just to try” now split a salad. One. Salad. With extra ice. Because Becky’s “not really hungry anymore,” thanks to the miracle of GLP-1 inhibitors.

Sales are down. Crusts are left behind. Dough is depressed.

I make a living on the backs of carbs. Neapolitan pies, fermented to perfection. Schiacciata sandwiches that practically seduce you from across the table. And now I watch as people walk past my food truck, gazing longingly at our bread bowls like they’re exes they swore they were over.

So what’s a pizza maker to do? Fight back—with innovation.

Introducing: The Neapolitanish WegovYum™ aka Ozempic Pizza.
A delicate, leopard-spotted crust, topped with fresh mozzarella, basil, and a very thinly sliced microdose of semaglutide. You get the flavor and the fullness. One slice and you’re satisfied until next Tuesday. Side effects may include euphoria, satiety, and asking if you can buy a 5-pack for the office.

Think of it as artisanal appetite suppression. Pizza that makes you not want more pizza. The snake eating its own tail. The most Italian thing ever.

Am I serious? Maybe. Maybe not. But if Big Pharma is gonna take down the slice, I at least want a cut.

Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go ferment some dough and cry into my naturally leavened crumb.