There is nothing I like more in this world than pizza. I grew up in the early 90s in Connecticut, where my dad owned a pizzeria called Kenny V’s until I was three. I still have his old restaurant sign in my garage. For the last six years, I’ve eaten pizza every single day. Sometimes it might just be a slice, but most days I will get through a whole one. My favourite is a classic American deep-pan pepperoni. I also love tomato and cheese on a nice thick crust, so a plain margherita will never go amiss. I used to work for a company that looks after heating and cooling systems. My colleague and I would be on the road all day, and the quickest thing for me to grab to eat was a pizza. One day, he said: “I bet you couldn’t eat it every day for a week.” I rose to the challenge with ease. He then extended the bet to a month. By the end, I felt I could go for longer. I set up a social media account to document my progress, and six years on, I’m still going strong. I love comparing versions of the same flavour by different chefs, and trying new flavours. Peanut butter and bacon, and beefaroni and caviar are some of the wildest combinations I’ve had, though they made me realise that I prefer to keep my pizza simple. I’m confident in stating that pineapple definitely doesn’t go on pizza. I’ll keep up my habit during the holidays, even when businesses are closed. On Thanksgiving, I’ll drive to the casino to get a slice, and will buy enough pizzas on Christmas Eve so that there are leftovers for Christmas Day. On our wedding day, my wife and I ordered cheese pizzas for guests at the end of the evening. My wife is very supportive and often brings slices home. Last year, I spent 16 days in Italy exploring Rome, Naples and the Amalfi coast with her and our daughter. I ate pizza there, too, of course. My family does get tired of pizza though. I usually try to get my fix during lunch breaks, so I can have the same meal as them in the evening. But I’ve always got room for leftover slices after dinner. Just over a year ago, a pizza box company saw my Instagram and asked if I’d be interested in working for them. I left my job to sell boxes to pizza stores full-time. It’s the perfect job for me, as I can travel and try pizzas from all over the country. This spring, I had pizza in 10 different US states. I also went to Las Vegas for a pizza convention. My favourite crust is the thick, crispy and chewy style from New Haven, Connecticut. The city has the best pizza I’ve ever tried. I love eating at a place called Sally’s Apizza, which has been open since 1938. The sauce is like nothing I’ve ever had, and the coal-fired oven puts the perfect char on the crust. I love hearing people’s stories about why they opened a pizzeria – often the business has been passed down from their parents. People are surprised to discover that I’m not interested in opening up my own (my dad’s has closed down). I see how hard these business owners work; I wouldn’t want to be away from my family for that long. I’ve only recently started showing my face on my Instagram. I used to only post pictures and videos of the pizzas I was eating. I’m quite shy and was keen for the page to just be about the food, but I think people connect more when they see the person behind the account. Everyone assumed I was a big guy, but I’m actually pretty skinny. I guess I can thank my metabolism for that. Sometimes people will get in touch with concerns about the healthiness of my habit, but I’m fit and healthy. I appreciate people worrying, though, because it means they care. My social media following has really grown. Two chefs recently made me a pizza in the shape of “50k” to celebrate my follower count – I’ve actually hit 60k since. I still see the colleague who originally challenged me. He laughs and calls me crazy, but is impressed that I’ve kept it up all these years. I think people find it hard to understand why I do it, and just how much I love pizza – but it’s as simple as that. I’ll continue my streak as long as I’m still excited about pizza, and I’m happy to enjoy my delicious journey, one bite at a time. As told to Elizabeth McCafferty