"NORMAL" PIZZA
adapted from The Complete Book of Pizza by Louise Love
Dough
2 cups bread flour2½ teaspoons active dry yeast
½ teaspoon salt
1 teaspoon sugar
2 tablespoons olive oil
3/4 cup warm water
Tomato sauce (enough for two pizzas)
1 tablespoon olive oil
1/3 cup minced onion
1 tablespoon minced garlic
2 14.5 ounce cans of peeled plum tomatoes, drained
2 tablespoons tomato paste (I used double concentrated)
½ teaspoon basil
¼ teaspoon tarragon
1 teaspoon dried oregano
1 teaspoon salt
Toppings
8 ounces shredded mozzarella cheese (divided)
2 ounces sliced baby portabella mushrooms
½ cup green pepper, cut into thin strips
½ cup yellow onion, sliced paper thin
4 ounces pepperoni
2 ounces sliced black olives
2 ounces grated Parmesan cheese
For the dough, stir the yeast into the warm water and set it aside for 5 minutes. Combine the flour and salt in a large bowl (I put it directly into my Kitchen Aid mixer bowl with the dough hook in place). Add the oil and the yeast mixture. If using a mixer with a dough hook, set it on low until the dough comes together and clings to the dough hook. Otherwise, knead on a floured surface until the dough comes together and is smooth and elastic. Place the dough in a greased bowl and cover with a clean, damp kitchen towel. Place in a warm, draft-free place for 1½ hours.
For the sauce, heat the olive oil in a 10" frying pan. Add the onion and garlic and saute until they become translucent and are just starting to brown. Puree the tomatoes, tomato paste, basil, tarragon, oregano, and salt in a blender or food processor until smooth. Add tomato mixture to the onions and garlic in the pan. Bring this to a boil. Reduce heat to low and simmer for about an hour or until sauce is thickened. This is enough sauce for two pizzas, so freeze half for another use.
Place a pizza stone in the oven and preheat the oven to 450º. Dust a pizza peal or board with cornmeal and roll out the dough into a 15" circle. Spread the remaining pizza sauce over the dough, leaving a one inch border around the edge of the pizza. Distribute half of the mozzarella over the sauce. Distribute the mushrooms, peppers, onions, pepperoni, and olives over the top. Sprinkle the remaining mozzarella and the Parmesan cheese over the toppings. Bake for 20-25 minutes until the crust is golden brown, and the cheese is melted and starting to brown.
BISCUIT PIZZA
adapted from The Everything Pizza Cookbook by Belinda Hulin
1 can of jumbo biscuits (8 biscuits)
1 cup of pizza sauce (see recipe above)
½ cup green bell pepper, cut into thin strips
4 ounces pepperoni slices
4 ounces diced ham
4 ounces cooked ground beef
4 ounces shredded mozzarella cheese
4 ounces shredded cheddar cheese
Preheat oven to 450º. Cover two cookie sheets with parchment paper. Stretch each biscuit out with your hands, grabbing each by the edge and shaking it and stretching it on all sides until you have a 6 inch circle. Place on the parchment-lined cookie sheet. Spread sauce over each one and top with pepper, pepperoni, ham, and beef. Cover everything with the two cheeses. Bake for 10-12 minutes or until crust is golden brown and the cheese is melted and starting to brown.
These are really not the regularly scheduled pizza for the evening. The Biscuit Pizza was supposed to be a make-your-own pizza where everyone puts their own toppings on and builds their own personal pizza. I really don't care for a lot of people in my kitchen at once. My kitchen has a two butt maximum. When there are more butts than that, they get in my way and make me crabby. So, no one gets to make their own pizza today.
The "Normal" pizza was actually a recipe that was supposed to demonstrate how you can use your food processor to help you make a pizza. I have one of those, but it resides in a cupboard that is hard for me to get to, and it is an annoyance for me to bring it out. Besides, I have the Vitamix 5200 Total Nutrition System. This beauty eliminates most needs for a processor, and if I wasn't using one, I didn't feel I could call it the oh-so-appetizing title it was given in the book: Food Processor Pizza. That, to me, sounded like we were going to put the machine on top of a crust and try to eat it. It didn't make me want to make it, and I thought about skipping on the the next recipe, but my OCD took over and told me it was a moral imperative to make the next pizza in line. The OCD seemed to have forgotten that we were already skipping a pizza called "Smiley-Face", because I refuse to make a pizza where the toppings are not distributed evenly on the pizza (it called for arranging cheese chunks and pepperoni slices to make a face on the top of the pizza). I am sure that my sisters and I would fight over who gets the slices with the pepperoni on them. Fights are not allowed at pizza night.
I had Jeff go shopping for me this week. I was a little frightened at what he might bring home that wasn't on the list, but he did pretty well. I ended up with some blueberries (I think that was a hint for me to make a pie), extra ground beef (I had asked for two cups and got 6 pounds - it was on sale), some pork ribs (also on sale), and a rain check from the manager for more pork ribs, since there weren't as many there as Jeff wanted to buy. I thought his restraint was quite impressive for a hunger-infused stop on his way home from work.
This morning, I was going to quickly whip the crust dough together before running errands, so the dough would have an adequate amount of time to rise. When I glanced at the biscuit recipe, I thought back to putting the groceries the day before and realized that I didn't recall putting the biscuits away, nor did I remember putting away any tomatoes. I called Jeff. He informed me that he bought them, but he had no idea what I did with them. I double checked the cupboards just in case - no tomatoes. I checked the fridge - no tubes of biscuits. I was just about to ask him if there was another bag in his car, when I walked into the dining room and saw a grocery bag sitting on the floor by the front door.
With that mystery solved, I put those groceries away, mixed up my dough, and went on my errands.
When I came back, my dough hadn't risen one iota. I looked at the temperature in my house, and it was only 63º. That could be the reason. I had put a warm damp towel over it before I had left, thinking that would keep it warm. It was icy cold when I took it off of my dough bowl. I set my oven for 100º and put the entire metal Kitchen Aid bowl in there to warm up while I did other things.
I started on the sauce for the "Normal" pizza. The first ingredient (after olive oil) was 1 small onion. I know I have mentioned this before, but I hate that direction in recipes. One person's small onion might be another's jumbo (just like those teeny tiny drinks they serve at Nye's that they call "jumbo"). I did use one small onion (in my opinion), and it came out to 1/3 cup of small-diced onions.
The first step was to saute the onion and the garlic for five minutes. I started this, and after 2 minutes, my onions and garlic were starting to scorch. I turned off the heat, removed the pan from the heat. I reread the recipe. There was no mention of a temperature at which to saute these items, just the time.
At this point, I started wondering if this sauce was going to be enough for both recipes. I didn't want to take the chance, so I doubled most of the rest of the ingredients. I didn't want to actually measure the romas that Jeff bought (in a can). The recipe called for one cup, drained. Just by eyeballing them, I decided that each can (after draining) was about 1½ cups, but I didn't want a half a can of tomatoes lying around, so I put them both in. I doubled the spices exactly, but I left out the brown sugar. I have never been fond of pizza sauces that have hints of sweetness to them. I probably wouldn't notice it anyway, but if I am not going to notice it, or I am not going to like it if I do.... Why add the extra calories?
I whirred everything up in the Vitamix and poured it into my pan with my onions and garlic.
As that was bubbling away on its reduction journey, I turned to the Make-My-Own-Pizza recipe. It called for ground beef, but it didn't have any cooking instructions for it. It didn't indicate whether it should be cooked first or not. Now, I have been making pizzas for over 16 years now, so I know that it really should be cooked first, but what if I hadn't? Also, it called for two cups. I have never measured raw beef in cups, so I assume that is what they meant, but how does one know how much raw beef will make two cups? It could vary greatly, depending on the amount of fat content (I had 85% lean), how finely it is ground, and how well you pack it into the cup. I settled on starting with one pound of raw ground beef.
As I was browning it, I was thinking that ground beef, on its own, isn't that flavorful. My anti-vegetarian father would growl if he heard me say this, but unseasoned ground beef, to me, is just filler - especially if it is in something rather than just a naked patty. With sauce and cheese on it, it could be tofu or vegetable protein for all I would know. I decided it wasn't going to go that way. I added Harley's seasoning, garlic granules, basil, and oregano. I wanted it to add something to the pizza besides texture. Oh, and it was good. Maybe too good, because I couldn't stop nibbling on it.
I checked on my sauce after the recommended half hour of simmering and decided it was thicker, but not thick enough. I decided to let it go on for another stint. I let it go for another half hour or so, and it looked much better. When I dragged my spoon through it the sauce stayed "parted" for a good 30 seconds or so before closing the gap.
For the "make-my-own" biscuit pizza, the dough was made (thanks to Pillsbury), the beef was browned, the cheeses were out of the freezer (already shredded), the ham came diced (thank you, Jeff), so next thing on the agenda was to thinly slice the green pepper into strips. I decided that one whole pepper was going to be too much for the one pizza, so I decided to split it up and use half of it for the biscuit pizzas as well. while I was at it, I sliced the onions and mushrooms for the regular dough pizza. Jeff had gotten (without any prompting from me) baby portabella mushrooms. I had told him once before that I much prefer them to the regular button mushrooms. They seem to have more flavor and are a little sturdier. I don't know if he remembered that, and that is why he chose them, or if they had a sale on them, or maybe he feels the same way. I will have to ask him that.
I checked on my bowl of dough in my 100º oven. It had risen, but it somewhat lost its shape. It was no longer the cute little ball I left in there, it was now flat, spongy goo. As I pulled it out of the mixer bowl, it grabbed onto the edges of the bowl and latched on for dear life. I had to twist my grip a couple of times to get most of it to release from the sides of the bowl. Once I had it on my cornmeal-covered pizza paddle, I had to roll it around a couple of times before I could get the dough to stop sticking to my hands. Then, I was ready to roll it out.
It wasn't as pretty or easy as when Jennifer does it, but I thought it looked pretty good. It was a little on the square side, but imperfections are what make the home-made pizza special, right? I spread about 3/4 cup of sauce over the rolled-out dough. The sauce had thickened even a little more in the sitting. It looked good. I dipped a finger into it and had a taste. Nope, I didn't miss the brown sugar. The tarragon was a little predominant. I was hoping that might change in the baking or be masked a little by the toppings.
The directions had me putting the cheese on before the toppings. I put the mozzarella on, but I had objections to this. Where I like the pepperoni to crisp up and get a little crunchy in the baking, I also like to have the cheese bind everything together from the top down. I saved the Parmesan cheese for last and sprinkled it over the top, but I could already tell it wasn't going to do the trick.
After the mozzarella, I started to really layer on the toppings, but then I thought back to some of the best pizzas we have had, and the toppings as a whole were plenty, but each individual topping was placed sparingly, so you could taste each individual element. I took off the piles of pepperoni I had placed on there and started over, trying the less-is-more tactic. I spread out about a quarter-cup of mushrooms, a handful of pepper strips, a fist-full of paper thin onions, a sprinkling of olives, and a few slices of pepperoni, topping it all with the Parmesan. I certainly looked beautiful.
Next, it was time to roll out the biscuits. I was curious to see if their overnight stay on my dining room floor had hurt the texture or consistency at all. They seemed fine once I was able to pop open the tube. I tried rolling them out with my rolling pin, as the recipe suggested, but it just wasn't working. The dough was sticking to the pin, and it left behind some precious bits when I pulled it off. I just started stretching each "biscuit" until it was roughly the size I wanted - 6 inches.
The recipe had called for 10 biscuits, but Jeff had bought the Jumbo biscuits, and they came eight to a package. He bought two packages, but I didn't want to open the second one, if we didn't need to. I counted up the people in my head and realized that we had eight people, two of which (the kids) may not even eat any of them. I stuck with just eight.
I split the remaining sauce among the 8 baby pizzas and started building them up - peppers, pepperoni, ham, ground beef, and olives. I hardly used any of the pound of the ground beef. If I had used any of the quantities listed on the recipe, it would have become a tower of pizza. There just didn't seem to be any way that they would all fit. In fairness, I realize that the original intent of the recipe was not to necessarily use all of the ingredients, but to have each person pick and chose. However, I think that made it even more excessive!
I checked my watch after I had everything assembled. It was just before six o'clock. Now, I knew that Jennifer and her family were going to be late, but Pam is usually early. When I was working, sometimes she would be sitting in her car, waiting for me to get home. I shrugged. She probably got stuck in traffic. Since she doesn't have a regular 9-5 job, I don't think she ever realizes or remembers about what the evening rush hour is like.
I started loading up the shaker for our drinks - just the booze - while the oven was preheating. I didn't want to put the ice in for fear that they wouldn't be here soon, and the liquor would (heaven forbid!) be diluted. I started with a double recipe, because I knew that at least Jennifer and I would be drinking. Pam was bringing the club soda for this drink, so I couldn't have just made one for myself while I was waiting.
GREEN CARIBBEAN
1 measure white rum
1 measure Midori
4 measures club soda
Mix the rum and Midori up in a cocktail shaker filled with ice. Strain into a highball glass. Top with the soda.
It was almost 6:30pm! I decided to call Pam and harass her. She didn't answer. I wasn't sure what to do with myself at this point. Usually Thursdays are mad dashes to get as much done as I can before people start arriving, so I can enjoy them instead of trying to herd them out of my kitchen while I am finishing things up. I sat down and started in on my overdue library book. As soon as I started to get into the storyline, my phone rang. It said it was Pam, but it was Jennifer's voice on the line. She had flown in today (which was why she was going to be late) and didn't have a car at the airport, so she called Pam while she was on her way to see if she could swing by the airport and pick her up. She said that they would be here in ten or fifteen minutes.
Perfect! I started to put in the large pizza, because it would take 20 minutes. Unfortunately, it didn't have what I like to call "slip-factor". I went to jiggle off of the pizza paddle onto the now very hot pizza stone, and instead of slipping off the paddle like it was supposed to, the back half of the pizza slipped forward and folded over onto the front half, spilling toppings all over my oven and the stone. Panicked, I unfolded it and tried to readjust the toppings. I grabbed another spatula and tried to get under the dough with two. I still was met with resistance and more toppings sizzled on the naked pizza stone. I slid the spatulas further under the dough and gave it one big shove. It landed on the stone, but it was now horribly misshapen, and I had to scrape up cheese and pepperoni that were crisping underneath the dough.
Pam and Jennifer arrived, just as I was lamenting over the terrible turn my pizza had made. They came in and examined it and declared it "rustic".
Once I had it straightened out as well as I could, I put in one pan of little pizzas. These were supposed to take eight to ten minutes. They actually took a little bit longer - about twelve minutes - which was fine, because we had to add the soda to our drinks and catch up on all of the things that happened in our lives over the past week we had been apart.
They were lovely when they emerged from the oven. All of the fat from the biscuits and the pepperoni had converged on the edges of the crust to give them a deep-fried look and texture. There were a lot of ingredients on these little beauties, it was hard to distinguish any one ingredient. The pepper was completely lost in the transaction. It was just meaty, cheesy goodness. I was right about the tarragon in the sauce, however. That flavor I could pick out above all others, and it was a little too strong for me, so I adjusted the recipe above accordingly.
Alas, my "Normal" pizza was not destined to be beautiful. We got to chomping on the biscuits and talking and babbling. When the timer I had set for it went off, I thought it was the timer for the second batch of biscuits (which I never set), so when it went off, I took the biscuits out and didn't reset a timer for the pizza. It was very well done.
The cheese was browned and crispy like I (and my sisters, but not Jeff, necessarily) like it, but the edges were border-line burnt. As we ate our first piece, we all commented on how we didn't think it had enough cheese. We would have liked more.
Pam and Jennifer and Jeff and I were the only ones here at this point. Jonah was too busy watching television to eat with us, and Roger and Gracie were on their way back from Grace's choir practice. We were planning on saving some pizza for them and Jonah. We all stared at the remaining four pieces. We debated about splitting two of them in half and each having another half, but instead, we decided to quickly snarf them down and get rid of the evidence that there even was a second pizza. We were glad we did, because apparently the cheese problem we had experienced with the first half was localized. It seemed that when the unbaked pizza took a dive on its way into the oven, most of the cheese had jumped to the other side of the pizza, and that was what we had for our second pieces. It was wonderful!
Even though we cleared the table of the pizza board it was on, they figured it out. Who knew they were smart enough to realize I always make two pizzas, and there was only one here. I guess I am too predictable.