Wild Boar Barbecue Pizza; Blue Cheese Pizza; The Last Goodbye (Really, this time)

     Wild Boar? Really? Can you buy that? Because, I thought you couldn't buy "wild" game, legally. I did a little research on the Internet (what did we do before Google, anyway?). It turns out that (at least in Minnesota), if you have pigs from a certain genetic group, and you feed them organic material, and they are "free range", you can call it Wild Boar. I searched for local sources. What I found was a site called Buffalogal.com. They apparently had pigs descended from some Russian breed and raise them in Houston, MN. Well, Houston was a little far for me to go before Wednesday (I was searching on Sunday, of course). There is also a store in Hudson, WI called Venison America. Both places sounded great, and I could drive to Hudson on a Sunday, but I looked at prices on both, and unfortunately, the cost was prohibitive. Someday, I would like to be in a place where that wouldn't matter, so we could truly enjoy pizza night in it's intended spirit - to try new things and evolve our palettes. Ah, but the lottery does not appear to be my friend, and my career ambitions (or lack thereof) have not led me to a position of affluence. The tenderloins at both locations was right around $30/lb, and I could not justify that purchase (and road trip), when I have a freezer full of $1/lb pork.

     Once I had decided on that, it was time to grocery shop. I wanted to get this taken care of Sunday, because Monday (the scheduled shopping day) was my brother-in-law's birthday, and we were all going out to dinner. Jeff offered to go with me. Despite the financial implications, it is always nice to have company (especially his) while shopping.

     We headed off with our list, and we were doing really well with trying to stick to it, but then.... We reached the meat department. Cub had chicken thighs for $1.20/lb. That isn't how it was labeled: it was 20oz packages of boneless, skinless chicken thighs, and they 2 packages for $3.00. I had to dig out the calculator. Yep, $1.20/lb - no limit, and they had a huge pile of them. Jeff started loading the cart. He came up with 9 packages. I told him I didn't want to pay full price for that extra ONE, since the sign advertised a price for TWO packages. I am fairly certain that it would have rung up at the cash register for $1.50/package, but I didn't want to have to argue with the cashier. Besides, Jeff has been close to being banned from Cub for various reasons, so I didn't want to push my luck. He agreed and added three more packages to our cart.
     Boy, this seems familiar, doesn't it? We spent the rest of our evening vacuum sealing thighs in various sized packages.
     As I have mentioned before, smoking meats is not my forte. I have never personally done it, and I am generally lazy. I know that somewhere in my garage, or my basement, or in my kindling box, there are wood chips specially marketed for the home-griller. That might be a lot of work for me to find those and figure out how to use them with my gas grill. That may even require me to find the long-forgotten smoker box (a cast iron box specifically designed to hold pre-soaked wood chips for grilling). Wow! And, to pile that on top of grocery shopping for said pizza, preparing for said pizza, and doing the regular day-to-day chores, like washing clothes and cooking dinner? Well, that was just too much to ask.

     For Christmas, my secret Santa, Jean, gave me a smoker bag. I have never used such an item, but it highly intrigued me. I have read the directions several times since Christmas, but have never found the right occasion to use it - I kept thinking I should save it for a special occasion. How many special days go by without us realizing that they were truly special? How many place settings go unused waiting for a special occasion? Any day spent with my sisters is special. Pizza night, is always special. I would even dare to say that even the Pizza Nights where no one showed up, and it was just me, were special. Let's break out the special smoker-bag!

     There were directions on the packaging with cooking times for various cuts, types, and sizes of meat.  I had a two pound pork roast.  The cooking times for pork included 1½" pork chops (1-2 pounds) or a 3-4 pound pork roast.  I didn't think mine fit either description.  The instructions were to season the meat as desired and place in the bag.  Fold the end of the bag over twice to seal.  Cook for the recommended time on the chart.  It said 30-35 minutes for the chops and 50 minutes for the 3-4lb roast.  I chose 40 minutes, since my roast was smaller.  I figured it would be better to err on the side of rare than the other way around, especially since it was going to be re-cooked on top of the pizza.

     I seasoned it with our favorite go-to seasoning: Harley's.  It's garlicky and  salty, and it just seems to make everything taste better.  I put the roast in the bag and rolled up the end.  I had been pre-heating the grill to medium-high, as instructed, and I then threw this on.  I did turn the burners down to low at this point.  I didn't really believe that the roast needed to be cooked on medium high.  Low and slow has always been good for me.

     While that was cooking, I decided to go back in and work on the sauce.   I was going to cut the recipe by a third, since the pizza recipe only calls for 1 cup of sauce (and I was only making one pizza, so I really only needed 1/2 cup), but I figured if I am going to go through all of this effort to make home-made barbecue sauce, I may as well have some extra to put in the freezer for another day.

     I wanted to start by getting all of the ingredients together.  I had to BUY green peppers at the grocery store, because my garden bell pepper plants are stunted.  I am not sure what the problem is there, but they do not want to seem to produce peppers.  The one Hungarian Wax pepper plant, though, has been giving me a pepper a week for a few weeks now.  I had just picked my weekly bounty on Tuesday.  I decided to add this to the barbecue sauce (along with one of my purchased peppers).  Other than that, I pretty much stuck to the list.

     Other than all of the chopping, this sauce recipe was really easy.  If I had had to fry bacon for it, it would have been a little more involved, but I actually had pre-cooked left-over bacon (a HUGE rarity in my house).  The best part of all was that I got to use the Vitamix 5200 Total Nutrition Center to puree the sauteed veggies and the rest of the ingredients together.  This beautiful machine makes anything liquid after a few seconds with no lumps!  This was no exception, and then the sauce went back into the sauce pan for its hour and a half bubble.  And bubble, it did.  I poured the sauce back in the pan and went to get the roast off of the grill.  When I came back inside, the sauce was boiling and had blurped sauce all over the counter and the floor.  I turned the burner down as low as it would go for the remainder of the reduction time.  After an hour and a half, it was really thick.

     Meanwhile, I checked the roast.  It had rested away from the grill for over 5 minutes, so I checked its temp.  It was only 105º!  I wanted it a little under-done, but that was a little too much.  I probably should have extended the time, since I didn't use the recommended temperature setting.  I poured the juices back in the bag and dropped the roast back in, sealed up the bag, and went back to the grill.  I set my timer for another 30 minutes.  When the timer went off, I opened the lid of the grill and didn't get that familiar rush of heat rising up out of the grill.  I stuck my hand over the burners - no heat.  I was able to grab the aluminum bag with my bare hands.  Apparently, the propane had run out on the grill towards the beginning of the roast's second roasting.  There should be some sort of buzzer for that sort of thing.

   I brought the roast inside and took a peek.  When I unfolded the end of the bag, steam came out.  That was a good sign.  I decided to just cut the roast in half.  I didn't know how long it hadn't been cooking, so temperature would NOT be an indicator of done-ness.  Cutting it in half would serve two purposes - I would be able to look at the color to determine how it was cooked, AND if it wasn't done, it would cook faster in smaller pieces.  I held my breath and brandished my knife...  I sliced right through the center, and it was perfect!  Slightly pink, still juicy, and delicious!  Jeff and I ate for dinner the half that wasn't going to be used for the pizza, and it was slightly smokey and very tender.

     Next on my prepping agenda was the crust for the blue cheese pizzas.  I already had a frozen crust for the Wild Boar Pizza.  For the basic dough, I had debated about dividing the crust in half and freezing the other half, because every time I have made this crust before it seemed like too much crust for the rest of the ingredients.   However, since this was little individual pizzas, it seemed like a good idea to just go ahead and use it all.  If, at the time of assembly, we decided it was too much crust, we could just make more than six.  Leftovers are always welcome in my fridge, and they make great parting gifts for the guests.

     Pam couldn't join us on Thursday: she was in Seattle.  Jeff had zoomed down to Iowa on a raccoon-hunting spree.  Raccoons were reportedly eating all of the sweet corn he and my dad had planted.  The kids' softball/baseball season was over, so Jennifer and family could actually show up at a reasonable time.  She asked what time that should be.  I asked her to wait until 6.  I needed a little wind-down time from work before I was pleasant and entertaining.  I may not be entertaining anyway, just mildly amusing, but at least I wouldn't be crabby.

     I was able to clean a toilet, sweep the kitchen, and mop up the barbecue sauce on the floor and counters (and wash my hands, of course).  I also took a look outside at the gas grill that had petered out on me the day before.  I lamented that it was out of propane.  I knew we had another tank somewhere, but finding it was one thing, and I wasn't even sure that it would be full (this is something magical that happens at my house - usually - tanks go empty and magically refill themselves, but this was not the case today).  I sighed and trudged into the garage in search of charcoal.  That would probably be easier to find and set up than the propane option.  I found the charcoal, found the charcoal chimney, loaded it with newspaper, and lit it.  It was going pretty good, when I looked to my right and saw the extra propane tank right there on the sidewalk!  And guess what?  It was completely full.  Oh well, we haven't tried grilling pizzas on charcoal before.  It will be yet another culinary experience for us.

     I had just finished rolling out the grill crust when they arrived.  I assigned Jennifer the task of rolling out the dough for the blue cheese pizza.  The kids heard this and asked if they could help.  They seemed to have a great time stretching and flattening the dough.   The end results were artistic and beautiful.

     Roger was our bartender, and he mixed up a beautiful drink with absolute precision.  He measured everything!  The end result was a pink bowl of deliciousness.  It was fruity and somewhat sweet with a kick.  We practiced the Minnesota version of the Last Goodbye, where you always have to say it three times before anyone actually leaves.

  The kids also helped with the distribution of the ingredients.  I was very happy to provide them with home grown tomatoes for this task!  At last!  When I handed the two smallest tomatoes to Jennifer to cut, she said "only two, really?".  What??  This from the anti-tomato girl?  I took the smallest of the two I had handed her and replaced it with a large tomato.  There.  Take that.  And, she did.  Hmmmm...  Is there a change in tastes on the horizon?

        We decided to pop these little beauties in the oven and cook them inside while we got the ingredients for the barbecue pizza.  We wanted to snack on these while we were grilling the wild boar pizza.  I was right about the dough being too much.  It was supposed to make six 6" pizzas.  We measured our pizzas, and they were like 7" by 9".  A little too large to be called a snack, but we were going to go for it anyway.  The crusts puffed up golden and pretty in the oven, and we actually remembered to add the Parmesan (in our case, Manchego, because I underestimated the inventory in my fridge) and parsley.

     They were delicious!  The Gorgonzola soaked up the juices from the tomatoes to balance out the salty and tart flavors.  The green onions cut through the creaminess of the cheese, and the peppers didn't quite soften up, so they were little crunchy bursts of sweetness throughout the piece.

     Jonah, even though he was part of the assembly, just realized that there were peppers and onions, not only on the pizzas he had helped create, but there were onions on the pork pizza as well, and he claims he doesn't like either.  Rather disappointing, but I was once that picky child.  So, we made him peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, but I didn't have any bread a kid would like, so we used hot dog buns.



    Then, we moved outside to grill the wild boar pizza.  I am still calling it that, even though it was probably a tame pig that gave itself for our pizza.

     It was fabulous!  The pork stayed tender, even though it was on its second (technically third) cooking.  The Manchego was earthy and tangy, the sauce rich and gooey.  I had originally thought it might be too much cheese, but it was perfect.  It provided the perfect cohesion (no bits of food falling off onto the boob shelf or bouncing off the belly). 

     Unfortunately for Gracie, the "snack" pizza was too much for her, and she had no room for this pizza.  I sent the last remaining piece home with her for later.  Jonah saw how much we were enjoying it and couldn't resist trying it.  I think he had three pieces of it!  I guess there is hope for him, after all.  It was all very filling and Roger had to take a little rest after the meal.

     The kids decided they had to run off their consumed calories (ah, to be young and energetic again!  Oh wait, I was never THAT energetic!)



Artisan Grilled Pizza; Cheesecake "Pizza"; and the Last Goodbye (or was it?)

     This week was another two-grocery store hit.  Cub does not have the best cheese selection.  I know at one time they carried Manchego, but apparently those days are over.  I didn't find anything there that resembled "herb-laced cheddar type cheese".  For the triple-creme cheese, I picked up some Camembert.  Jeff thought for the cheddar, I should just use regular cheddar and sprinkle herbs over it.  I could do that, I supposed, but it seemed against the spirit of the game.  I would think about it. 

     I took Jeff with me to Cub.  Financially, that is always a mistake.  He always wants to buy everything labeled "shocker" whether we need it or not.  I think I had four things on my list, and we ended up spending $100.  It could be worse, I suppose.  We ended up buying several pounds of brats and froze them when we got home, so we would have them for when my friends from Wisconsin come (in August) for the weekend.  I guess it doesn't hurt to be prepared.  Maybe next week, we'll get the potato salad and the chips....  Do chips last that long?  Not in my house.  He had said before we went that I didn't need to buy the tomatoes I needed for the sauce, that surely by Thursday, we would have ripe tomatoes in our garden.  When we got there, though, he put a cluster of them into my cart.  It turned out that I needed them.  I only found one mostly ripe tomato in the garden.

     I went to Sam's Club to get the Manchego.  They are rearranging the Bloomington Sam's Club, and when I went to where I would normally get my cheeses, the bins were empty, and there were carts parked about with piles and piles of cheeses on them.  I asked an employee where I might find Manchego.  After explaining to him that it was a hard Spanish cheese sort of like cheddar.  He lead me to a cart full of cheese and said it might be on there somewhere.  I dug through it, and was successful, but along the way, I found a "herb and garlic cheese".  I snapped it up!  It would definitely fit the bill.  I now have enough cheese for the pizza with about four pounds to spare....  I am going to have the best sandwiches next week!

     When I got home from work on Wednesday, I was really tired.  I hadn't slept well all week, and it was really catching up with me.  That combined with the fact that we were on our fourth near-100º day made it difficult to remain upright.  The heat and humidity just sucks every ounce of motivation right out of me.  It was a good thing these recipes didn't seem terribly fussy.  I decided I didn't need to do any preparing for the dessert pizza - the ingredients (as I had interpreted them) just needed to be assembled, and dessert would be done.

     There really wasn't much to do for the Artisan Cheese Pizza either.  I had dough in the freezer for the crust.  I just had to pull that out to thaw.  I could slice the cheeses, but I didn't feel it was necessary to do that in advance either.  I decided to make the fresh tomato sauce and be done with it.  Without reading the recipe through, I started on the first ingredient: The tomatoes.  I was cutting the recipe in fourths, because I only needed a cup of sauce for my recipe (I always cut the pizza recipes in this book in half - we don't really need two of the same pizza).  Two tomatoes would turn out to be the cup and a half that I needed for my portion of the recipe.  Started the small dice.  I like cutting tomatoes.  I keep challenging myself to see if I can make the dice all the same size and shape.  It never turns out that way, but I sure like trying.  I spent about 20 minutes with my two tomatoes - slice in half, slice each half horizontally, slice perpendicularly, turn the tomato and cut it crosswise for perfect cubes.  I love my tomato knife.  It slides right through, all the way through, the tomato as if it had no substance at all.

     With that completed, I consulted the recipe again.  What is going to be done with these cute little pieces of 'mater?  Oh, they get salted and left in the refrigerator overnight.  Hmmm, nothing left to do then, but take a nap.  I gazed longingly out the window at my lonely hammock.  I wait impatiently 9 months out of the year for it to be warm and sunny, but with the heat index at 115º -120º, I think I will pass.  I did muster up the energy to clean up the dishes and mop the floor, so my guests' feet don't stick to it when they walk in. 

     Thursday morning, I placed my liquor order early, so I would have everything we needed for "drink-o-the-week".  I had the order entered at 8:15am.  One of the warehouse workers, as a personal favor (without any prompting by me), brought me my goodies at 10:30am.  I was set!  I kept thinking that I should put the bottles in my "magic bag" (the bag that goes with me everywhere, and appears to be magic, because whenever I need anything, it seems to be in the bag), so I wouldn't forget them.  But, I couldn't possibly forget them!  It's booze, after all - one of my favorite dishes.

     I got home and changed into cooler clothes and raced down to the kitchen to get started.  Glancing at my recipes that were spread across the counter, I wondered where I should start.  I was pretty parched at this time, so I was considering starting on the drink of the week, even though this is usually reserved for after the girls arrive.  I could at least get the ingredients lined up for the event.  Let's see... cognac and Cointreau.  Yep, just purchased that this morning...  I'll just go ... get ... it...   EEEK!  I left it under my desk at work!!  What now??  We would have to improvise.

     OK.  Nothing I can do about it now.  I can't even call Jeff to bring it home with him, because he wasn't coming home right away.  He had a big "guy" evening with his cop buddies at the shooting range.  Not really my thing, but it seems to make him really happy, and if he is happy, I am happy.

     I decided to start on dessert first.  I have realized (after many years) that it is best to start with the dessert pizza, because if the main course is made first, everyone starts eating that without me while I am still working on getting the dessert made or in the oven or whatever, so it is ready when we are done with our entree.  First of all, as I have done with the last couple of recipes, I decided to ditch the "sweet crust" for a traditional graham cracker pie crust.  I took the easy way out and bought a pre-made one.  Once I got it home, I realized I had all of these graham crackers in my cupboard that I should have used, since we don't really eat them....  Oh well.  Anyway, the pizza (I guess it really is just a pie now) went together quickly and easily, considering you just scoop the cheesecake filling into the crust, open a can of cherry goo & spread it over the cheesecake stuff, and sprinkle the top with white chocolate curls.  There was a slight problem loading the ready-to-eat cheesecake stuff into the crust.  When I tried to spread it around, it glommed onto the crust and adhered to it, even as I was spreading, so there was a little graham disintegration that nobody appeared to notice when it was served.  The curls were the most labor intensive part of the dish.  I had bought a bar of white chocolate (Ghiradelli, of course) and slid my potato peeler down the length of the side to get the curls.  The bar ended up with a big missing U-shape along the side, but I bit into it, and it still tasted fine...

     Just about the time I finished my pie, Pammy showed up.  She had walked over from Jennifer's house.  Apparently, she flew in to Eden Prairie from her house in Frederic, WI just for pizza night.  She really wanted to come, but didn't want to make the long drive.  Wow!  She really knows how to make a girl feel special!

     I explained the problem with the drink of the week.  I handed her the drink book and told her to pick something out for us for which we had the ingredients.   After running through a few lists, she closed the book and told me about this fantastic beverage that she had on one of her trips.  It was a key lime pie martini.  The bartender wouldn't give her the recipe, because it was their signature drink, but she thought she could replicate it.  Unfortunately, we didn't measure anything, or write anything down, so we will never be able to recreate it exactly.  She poured the shaker mostly full with vanilla vodka, splashed in some sweetened lime juice, and added a little cream.  On first taste, the drink was a little too creamy and not sweet enough, and it wasn't green.  She poured the drinks back into the shaker and asked for green food coloring.  I told her where it would be, if I had it.  She didn't find any, but she did find almond extract, which she thought would be good in there.  She added some of that and some simple syrup.  She re-shook it and re-poured.  It was delicious!  Slightly tart, slightly sweet, and a hint of creaminess.  The almond extract added a little depth to the drink, another dimension, a curve to the liminess of it...  Delicious! 

  While we sipped on those, I rolled out the dough.  I had taken it out of the freezer Wednesday night and put it into the fridge.  In the morning, I pulled it out of the fridge, so it would be pliable enough to roll out when I got home from work.  Then, I started working on the cheese.  We discussed (obviously without looking at the recipe) whether or not to include the rind of the Camembert.  We decided we should leave it in.  I cubed the Camembert, I sliced the Manchego, and sliced the herb/garlic cheese and put each in separate bowls to take to the grill.  I shredded the basil (I used much more than the recipe called for, because I am a fan of basil).  I think you can never have too much - it's like garlic in that way.  I put it into the strained and drained tomatoes from yesterday and added the freshly ground pepper.  Somebody give me a tortilla chip, I want to try this stuff!

     With all of my ingredients prepared and bowled up, we were ready to move to the grill.  We were graced with 86º weather and (relatively) low humidity, so we could probably keep our clothes dry if we were to stand out there and grill and later eat outside.  We loaded up the pizza paddle with the ingredients and were going to go outside, when Jennifer, Jonah, and Gracie showed up.  Gracie won her play-off game!  Woo hoo!  Cheers all around!

     Once we had properly welcomed the Liggetts, it was time to get serious.  Pam and my drinks were empty and Jennifer didn't have one yet.  I decided a simple gin martini may be in order.  I filled the shaker (mostly) with gin, tossed in a little sweetened lime juice, squeezed a couple of lemon wedges into it, shook, and poured.  I garnished each glass with a think slice of lemon.  It was beautiful and delicious. 

      We moved outside in a gaggle.  Jennifer helped me juggle dough, sauce, and cheeses; and Pam was the drink carrier.  We put the crust on the flamed side of the grill.  We shut the lid of the grill and tried our martinis.  A huge smile spread across Jennifer's face, and she said, "I like gin."  I do too.  That about says it all.

Me Enjoying My Gin in a Weird Crouched Position (she was supposed to take the pic from chest up, but apparently she missed)

     Once the crust had some nice grill marks on the down side (and a couple of burn marks, too), we flipped the crust onto the no-heat side of the grill and added the toppings.

     The only thing left to do was drink and wait for the browning!  That is what we did.  Unfortunately, a 9 year old and a 12 year old get really bored when three old ladies are sitting around shooting the ... (ahem!) I mean, drinking gin.  The kids were severely bored, but we certainly enjoyed ourselves, catching up, commiserating, and enjoying each other's company. 

     It was fabulous!   I reconsidered the decision to only make one pizza.  The kids had already eaten before Gracie's game, but once they saw the pizza, they wanted some, too.  It was creamy and crispy (slight too crispy in some places, as you can see).  The tomatoes were perfectly matched with the basil and contrasted the herb garlic and manchego cheeses to make the finished dish heavenly.  The only drawback was the fresh tomatoes were a little slick, and each bite shot a tomato out of the slice onto a belly, a toe, or a deck board.  I guess you can't have perfection without a couple of glitches.  We polished off the entire pizza, and then I reminded everyone that there was cheesecake.
     Jonah claims that he doesn't like cheesecake, but I have made cheesecake several times, and he has eaten every one without complaint and mostly with requests for seconds.  He said he would try it, but he really doesn't like cheesecake.  OK.  Whatever.  At this point, the mosquitoes decided it was dinner-time, too, and they attached us with viciousness, so we decided to have dessert inside.

     It was a huge hit with everyone.  Jonah even asked for seconds (he didn't get any, but it had to be asked, right?).  He had seen the pie in its container with the original plastic from the crust domed over the top and told Jennifer that I bought the pie.  As IF!  I worked long and hard on that pie, and I wasn't going to let some unnamed corporation take credit for it!  It is MY own home-made cheesecake thingee!  Don't forget it!

This is the Drink We Were Supposed to Have - Maybe Next Week?

Summer Fruit Pizza; Grilled Chicken & Pepper Pizza; Pinata

     As I have mentioned before, I am a creature of habit.  I get nervous when things are unfamiliar, out of order, or not preplanned.  Jennifer and Roger (my sister and brother-in-law) are remodeling their kitchen and dining room area.  Wednesday, their floors were being refinished.  Roger called me at 5 to 5, asking me what we (Jeff and I) were going to do for dinner.  Mom and Dad were coming down from Nisswa for a funeral, and, as always, they were going to stay at Jen & Roger's house.  Roger said that they would have to go out to eat, because they cannot cook anything in their house with no floor that they can step on.  Did Jeff and I want to come?  Well, of course we would want to come, but it was Wednesday, a.k.a. "pizza prep night".  What would I do about that? 

    I called Jeff. He was at the grocery store.  He had gone to the grocery store yesterday and discovered a good deal on our favorite sodas, but there was a limit.  So, he was back again on Wednesday, trying to soak up more deals.  He said that since he was at the grocery store, we should just have them over to our house.  His real thinking was, he could sneak away, more easily,  and do his own thing while we were all spending family time together.  He bought some preformed burgers, some all-beef hot dogs, and some Italian sausages, along with buns and requested that I make a pasta salad.

     Jennifer said she would bring a spinach salad and whatever else I wanted her to bring, but I didn't think

there needed to be anything else.  That's already a lot of food.  I took a deep breath and tried to shake the stress of the workday off and get into family enjoyment mood.  Hmmm, a little martini is the perfect foil!  I had just bought (on sale, of course) some new mixers.  There was a diet Pomegranate Ginger Ale.  I poured a splash of that into the bottom of the glass.  I had some grapefruit juice in the fridge that I poured into the shaker along with some (just a little, hardly any really, quite negligible amount) vodka.  Shake, shake, shake!  Shake that vod-ka.  Ah, now that is my favorite song.  Delicious and nutritious.  I am sure that all of the vitamin C and anti-oxidants from the pomegranate were going to course through my veins with special force and cure all that ails me.  Or, I was just going to relax a bit and not worry that Wednesday wasn't going to be what it was scheduled for.

Jeff's idea of cleaning off the table

     Jeff was the chef.  He cooked all of the meat products while I assembled the salad.  I had to sift through the refrigerator and cupboards to see what I could possibly use to make into a salad.  Pepper, onion, cheese, macaroni, new pepper from the garden (two of my first three Hungarian Wax (hot) peppers).  All of that could work.  I started boiling water for the pasta, while I chopped the veggies.  I needed some kind of goo for the pasta. . . .   I have no mayonnaise (Jeff has decided that if we stop eating mayonnaise, we will lose weight - it has been a couple of years now, and I think we have found other things to take up mayonnaise's void).  I have sour cream.  I have a jalapeno cilantro dip - I could throw that in there...

     Mom and Jen showed up, and I brought out the dip.  I offered it to them to taste, and the three of us ended up just finishing the dip on chips instead of progressing with any type of salad.  It was good, we couldn't help ourselves.  I had bought the dip mix on clearance at Cub.  I am a sucker for a mark-down.  I would definitely buy it again, if I could remember the name brand, and if I could figure out where to get it, now that Cub isn't carrying it.  Or, better yet, I could probably figure out a way to make my own.

     Anyway, as I was saying, I tossed the veggies together.  By this time, the noodles were done (the box says 6 minutes, and they weren't kidding!  They were slightly past perfect at 6½ minutes).  I could season some sour cream and throw it in there - maybe add a little unsweetened yogurt.  that sounded like a lot of effort and a lot of thinking on my part and a bit of scramble through the spice cupboard.  Then I remembered that I had just bought Vidalia Onion salad dressing at Sam's Club (it is hit or miss when you go there - sometimes they carry it, sometimes they don't, so you HAVE to buy it when you see it.  I poured a little of that over the veggies and macaroni.  I added some cheddar cheese, and VOILA!  Insty-salad.

    We had a lovely dinner.  The burgers were good, and the macaroni salad seemed to be a hit.  I, of course, made way too much, so there was plenty left over for our lunches the next day.  Jennifer's spinach salad was delicious, too.  She had blue cheese crumbles and walnuts in there and had made a balsamic vinegrette that we passed around at the table.

     Once everyone had left, I started on the "preps".  I started with the recipe for the Grilled Chicken & Pepper pizza.  First things first:  the crust.  I poured all of the crust ingredients into my Kitchen Aide with the dough hook installed and let it do its thing.  I hadn't read the ingredient list before-hand, so I was amazed that I actually had everything:  I even had semolina flour.  It stirred up a little dry, so I ended up adding liquid to the dough. 

     Along with my other mental disorders, I have an issue with throwing things away.  I don't think that I have reached hoarder status, but as far as food goes, I make sure I save everything that could possibly be used for something.  Milk is one of those items.  I frequently buy milk for various reasons, and Jeff and I don't drink it, and we don't really eat cereal any more (we should- we both like it... ).  So, when I buy milk, regardless of the size of the milk, some of it invariably goes bad.  I have discovered that this is a great additive for breads and crusts.  It gives them an almost sourdough flavor and it makes something that should have been thrown away into something useful.  The rest of my family has this issue with Ziploc bags - they are continually washing them out and reusing them, which (in my opinion) totally contradicts the reason you buy them - so you can store food and throw away the wrapper - but I digress...  Anyway, I added some sour milk to the dough to up the moisture content and make it hold together.  As with all of the crust recipes in this book, I divided it into four heaps and froze three of them.  The fourth heap went into the refrigerator for tomorrow;s crust.  Hopefully, I would remember to take it out of the fridge before I went to work on Thursday, so it is flabby and able to be rolled out when I come home.

     The sauce was the slow-simmered sauce.  It makes a whole mess of sauce, so I freeze a bunch of that, too, when I make it.  There was one lonely container of sauce left in the freezer, so I threw that into the fridge.

     I had been thawing what I thought was two chicken breasts for the mesquite smoked chicken the recipe called for.  I do not have a smoker, and I didn't buy mesquite chips to put into my grill - which I could have and should have - I would really be interested in trying it all, but I felt like going to that extreme wasn't really a weeknight recipe.  Instead, I had mesquite seasoning.  I thought it would work.  I originally thought that I would grill the chicken, but since my guests hadn't left until 9ish, I thought it would be easier and faster if I broiled it.  So, after the fam was gone, I opened my package of chicken breasts.  It turned out to be ONE chicken breast!  It was roughly a two-pound chicken breast.  I think this girl was a triple D if not bigger!  I sprinkled my mesquite seasoning onto both sides of the chicken.  The oven was set on broil at 500º.  I had to lower my top rack to fit the pan and the chicken breast in there without having the chicken breast touch the oven coils.  Normally, when I broil chicken, it is about 4 minutes per side.  I set the timer for 4 minutes, and it wasn't even close to be flipped.  I put it in for another 4 minutes, and the outside of the chicken looked good, but it was still jiggly.  I flipped it anyway, and set the timer for another 4 minutes.  It still was very jiggly, so I put it in again for another 4 minutes.  It still wasn't quite firm, but I don't like to cook chicken all the way through if I am going to put it on a pizza and re-cook it, especially if it is breast-meat, because it will get dried out and chewy if you cook it too much.  I took it out and let it cool.

     I, then, read through the recipe for the Summer Fruit Pizza.  It called for the "Sweet Crust" that I have made numerous times before and have had a hit-or-miss (mostly miss) experience with, so I had purchased a pie crust dough.  Yes, I know it is a cardinal sin to do that, since the ingredients are cheap, and the process is supposedly so easy, that there is no reason to spend extra money for the pre-made version, but I was gun-shy after my last attempt AND, I do work every day and every little bit of help (like pre-made crusts) can be a boon.  So, crust is covered, I don't need to work on that.  Then I read the rest of the recipe.  Place the sliced fruit onto the crust, sprinkle with brown sugar, and bake.  Easy as pie....  There really wasn't anything I NEEDED to do in advance.  The Liggetts weren't going to show up until after 6, and Pam could help me before they got there.  So, once the giant chicken breast cools, I think I can go to bed. 

     I was hoping that my mom would stay after the funeral on Thursday and join us for pizza night, but I guess she had pressing engagements back at home (Nisswa, MN).  She was definitely missed.

     I raced home after work.  I had hoped to skip lunch and come home early, but I don't know what I was thinking....  I always skip lunch, and I still don't get to go home early, so why did I think today would be different?  Oh well, the world was built on hope, right?

     I emptied the dishwasher from yesterday's dinner party.  That was about all I had time for before Pammy arrived. 

     She offered to start working on today's food, and I set her on slicing the fruit:  peaches, nectarines, plums, and cherries.  She started with the peaches and nectarines.  We debated a little about peeling first, but since the recipe didn't mention it, we figured that we didn't need to.  She figured that one nectarine or one peach was about all we needed for a half a cup of sliced fruit.  For the plums, which I was working on, it appeared that one and a half plums was the magic half a cup measurement.  We sampled a little of each "extra" fruit.  The peaches were fantastic, no complaints about that.  the nectarines were very yummy and flavorful, but they were a little gritty.  Not sure what causes that.  The plums were a little less flavorful.  The darker red plums seemed to have a little more flavor, but still nothing powerful  I am not sure if that is because we tasted the peaches and nectarines first, and they have a stronger flavor, or if they just really weren't that great.  Oh well.  We have what we have, and we are going to use it.

    I unrolled the purchased crust and put it into a deep disk pizza pan.  It fit in there with a little lip around the edge.  I had considered using a pie plate for the dessert "pizza", but I was afraid there was going to be too much fruit to fit in there.  On hindsight, I think that may have improved things a bit.  I was able to use my cherry-pitter again, which is all kinds of fun!  Again, I was simply amazed at how easy it was and how perfect the cherries came out.

     Jennifer and her family showed up and brought a Ham and Pineapple Pizza from Pappa Murphy's.  It is one of the kids' favorites.  That may be the wrong phrasing:  the kids really like it, and so does Jeff.  He actually commented that this IS his favorite pizza.  I asked him to reconsider that if he wanted to ever to have home-made pizza again.  He said that he meant out of the store-bought pizzas, that was his favorite....  Sure, under pressure, people will say whatever gets them their goods .... 

     The fruit pizza, after the recommended time on the recipe, still didn't appear to be done.  What was it,exactly, that we were looking for, anyway?  I was hoping for a crispy crust, at least around the edges.  I wasn't sure how that was going to work, since I substituted the original recipe's "sweet crust" for a pie crust.  Maybe I should have baked it first, because it still seemed white and pasty after the recommended 10 minutes.  We put it in for more time.  We upped the temperature of the oven, and we put in the Ham and Pineapple pizza. 

     We had commissioned Pammy to make the drink of the week.  It was called Pinata.  I am not sure how you are supposed to pronounce that, but reading it in my head, it sounds like the toy you hand on a string and let little kids whack on until candy spills out.  I wondered if that meant that the drink was so potent that we might become pinatas at the end of the night.

     We debated a bit about whether to use real lime juice or the stuff that comes in a bottle.  Pam had the ultimate deciding power, since she was barkeep this evening.  She decided that we needed slices of lime at least for the garnish, so she would slice off a few (at least three for us ladies), and squeeze some into the drink, and if that didn't cover the recommended amount of lime, she finished off the measurement with the bottled stuff.  It was a gorgeous drink.  It was refreshing, not to tart, not too sweet.  Jennifer and I decided that since the end result didn't have an overly banana flavor that perhaps the banana was just there to add sweetness and combat the tartness of the lime.  Whatever it was, we could have had bowls-full of the stuff.  Wait!  I think we may have.

     Once the drinks were formulated, it was time to heat up the grill.   I was a little hesitant about leaving the party to go outside for the grilling portion of the evening.  It was warm, but it was a little dreary, and it was threatening to rain.  I piled up a cookie sheet with the diced chicken, the cheeses, the sauce, and the crust.  This went with a spoon for spreading the sauce and the paddle for removing the finished pizza.  Jennifer volunteered to follow me out.  I reiterated that the pizzas in the oven still needed to be watched over, so Pam and Roger would tend to them.  Jennifer was gracious enough to grab my drink for me.  She is a saint, isn't she?

     Once we were outside and enjoyed a little bit of the impending humidity, we quickly finished our drinks. The grill was on and warming up, and we were just waiting for the proper moment to put on the crust.  We had both sides of the grill on with burners running.  We were hoping that all of the crud that had built up on the grill prior to this moment was burning itself off, and that the grates were warming up to put a nice char pattern on the crust once we deposited it.  Just standing there, thought, our drinks had evaporated.   Being the resourceful girl scout that Jennifer was, she had her phone with her and was able to text the bar wench and ask for another shaker-full of drink.  There was no immediate response, but then, as I was looking through the window into the kitchen, I saw Pammy approaching the back door with the shaker.  Hallelujah!  We are saved!  She was laughing when she came out of the house.  She said she made another shaker-full and was going to surprise the two of us with a refill, but she thought she should check her phone first and saw the text.  Jennifer and I tried to get her to empty the whole shaker into our glasses, but she wanted to have a refill too.  And WE thought it was just for US!  I guess not.

     Pam had taken the dessert pizza out of the oven along with the Ham and Pineapple pizza.  The Ham and Pineapple Pizza was a little brown on top.  It looked beautiful.  She brought it outside, and the decision was made.  Regardless of what the sky looked like, we would eat outside until the downpour.  It was our first outdoor pizza night of 2011.

      The grilled pizza wasn't quite ready yet.  Jen and I thought it would be much better if the cheese would brown.  However, we weren't sure if that was possible, since it was on the grill.  Jennifer, who has been without a kitchen and cooking several meals on her grill assured me that it was possible if we would stop lifting the lid to peek at the progress.  I believed her (sort of) and decided to leave it go for a while.  Ohmygosh!   She was right.  It browned up nicely while I was eating the ham and pineapple pizza. 

     The chicken wasn't as mesquite-y as I had hoped, and, of course, I didn't splurge for the mesquite chips to add to the grill while grilling the assembled pizza.  The mesquite was barley detectable.  The flavor was great anyway, though.  The chicken had stayed moist, there was more than enough cheese to bind everything together, and the peppers were the perfect touch of sweetness to compliment the other ingredients.  The sauce was part of a batch that I used Pammy's habanero salt for the salt it called for, so there was also a subtle building heat with every bite.  It was lovely.

     Once we had eaten more than enough of each of our shares of the chicken pizza and the ham and pineapple pizza, we remembered that there was the dessert pizza.  We brought it out and started serving it up.  Roger refused to try it.  Pam, Jen, Jeff, and I each had a small piece to start.  At first, I was really disappointed, because the crust didn't seem like it ever set up, which it didn't.  However, the flavor of the fruits combined totally overshadowed that fact.  I was really glad that we didn't use the sweet crust, disappointed in the result of the pie crust, but overall overwhelmed by the great flavor of the resulting dish.  I can't believe that just those few ingredients would have made that fabulous flavor!  The crust was a little soggy.  I think that if I had pre-baked the crust, it would have been too fabulous for us to stand it.