Heirloom Tomato Pizza

     I stopped by my friend Debi's house after work on Wednesday.  She seems to have an overabundance of basil and cannot find enough uses for it.  We walked out to her garden, and I saw that her basil plants were so tall they were about waist high.  I hewed them down with a trusty pair of kitchen shears and made myself a beautiful bouquet.  She had offered to give me a jar of pre-made pesto sauce that she had in her kitchen, but what is the fun in that?  Especially since there is all of this gorgeous basil that is crying out for purpose.

     I brought my bundle of herbs home and put them in a glass of water.  I pulled off enough leaves to measure two cups worth.  I looked though my fridge.  Oh yeah.... I ran out of garlic last week.  I looked through the fridge again, hoping I was mistaken.  No hidden jar of garlic.  I checked the cupboard where I usually keep an extra jar.  Nope.  Then, a thought struck me.  Earlier this spring, Jeff had mentioned that the garlic we had planted a couple of years ago had sprung up where the garden used to be.  What are the chances it is harvestable?  I had to check it out.  I donned my sandals and headed out to the far reaches of the yard.

     The area where Jeff had seen the garlic sprout was completely overgrown with weeds.  Not just any weeds, either.  These were super-colossal giant man-eating weeds.  I took a deep breath and dove in.  I found an onion.  I found several greens that look like it could be harboring a bulb of garlic underneath, but there was nothing under the dirt.  I searched a little while longer, hopeful that there was something tasty back there, but the weeds and the mosquitoes won.  I headed back inside with no garlic nor any facsimile of garlic.

     Once more, I looked through the refridgerator.  I emptied the vegetable drawer, I actually moved items (even dumped some scary looking containers that may have been food at one time), and I rearranged all of the pickles, jellies, mustards, and various condiments, looking for anything I could substitute.  I was rearranging the cheeses in the deli drawer, when I found it: half a bulb of garlic!  Eureka!  It wasn't much, but I figured it could get me by for now, and I could always add more tomorrow after I had gone to the store.

     I threw the basil, the garlic, and the oil into the Vitamix.  I opened the fridge again and realized I didn't have pine nuts either (again.... or still).  I still had hazelnuts, though, and that seemed to work great last time.  I threw those in and whirred it up with some Parmesan.  The licorice-y, green, garlicky aroma filled the kitchen, and my concoction became a beautiful bright green paste.

     I went back outside to get my heirloom tomatoes from the garden.  I hadn't been out to the garden for a few days.  Last time I was out there, there were several tomatoes on the plants, but they were mostly green still.  There were so many, in fact, that the plants were falling over and taking the tomato cages down with them.  I had righted them at the time, but I saw that some of the plants had rebelled again.  I walked inside the gate of the garden, and I was just heartbroken.  The chipmunks or squirrels or some hideous rodent type creature had been taking bites out of all the tomatoes.  Whatever it was wasn't content with taking a tomato or two and eating it all.  No, it had to take a bite out of each one and let the remainder of the orb rot on the vine.  Out of 30 tomato plants, I was only able to find 5 whole ripe tomatoes.  On the bright side, most of the ones I was able to salvage were zebra tomatoes.
     Once I was back in the kitchen, I looked over the second pizza recipe on the schedule.  It was called Smorgasbord, and the directions basically said to make any type of dough; divide the dough into 15 small pizzas; and bake it without toppings.  The idea was to set out several spreads, meats, and other stuff that each person could build their own snack.  I chose the rye crust and let my Kitchen Aide make the dough.  I set is aside to rise, while I enjoyed dinner with my husband.

     Unfortunately, I had forgotten about my poor dough until I was on my way to bed.  When I walked through the kitchen on my way, I saw the shiny metal bowl with the giant bubble of dough inside.  If I were to bake the little pizza doughs at that point, I would be up for another hour at least - dividing the dough, rolling it out, waiting for them to bake, and then waiting for them to cool once I had pulled them out of the oven.  I couldn't bring myself to do it.  I covered the mixer bowl with plastic wrap and placed the whole thing in the fridge in the empty spot that had been created earlier in my garlic search.  Then, I went to bed.

     Pam had texted me on Wednesday and told me she wasn't going to be able to make it for Thursday.  Jennifer was out of town and wasn't sure if Roger and the kids were going to join us.  She said she would make sure that they called if they were going to show up.  I hadn't heard from them.

     When I got home from work Thursday, I realized it was going to be a romantic evening for two.  There is no use in making 15 mini pizzas for the two of us AND an heirloom tomato pizza AND drink of the week.  I already had the dough, though, for the mini pizzas, so I was going to have to cook the crusts.  I could use them for anything, though, so it wasn't a big deal.  And, if Jeff and I decided that the one pizza wasn't enough, we could always throw some of the suggested toppings from the Smorgasbord recipe on top of a mini pizza or two and add those to our meal.

     I rolled out the grilling crust dough.  I sliced a couple of the zebra tomatoes and a "big mama" tomato.  I shredded half the Fontina and sliced the other half, and then I headed outside to the grill.  After it had warmed up, and I was able to scrape last weeks spillover off the grates, I plopped the dough on the grill over the burners that were on.  After a couple of minutes, it was ready to flip, and I carefully built the pizza - I spread the pesto over the crust, placed the sliced cheese on top of the pesto and alternated the green tomatoes and red tomatoes around the pizza.  I sprinkled chives, oregano, and sage over the tomatoes.  I covered the tomatoes and herbs with cheese and closed the lid of the grill to let the magic happen.

     It was fabulous - juicy, tart, cheesy.  It was both bright and creamy at the same time.  Jeff and I ate the entire pizza in no time flat.  We even considered licking the paddle on which it had been served.