Homemade Pizza

Friday nights are pizza nights at our house.  This is a tradition, as with most of Ben and my food traditions, that is borrowed from countless people.  Open a beer, make a martini if you dare (gin only, please), pop in a movie, and enjoy!

Regarding toppings:

If your pizza does not taste good enough with just sauce, cheese, and crust, adding a bunch of other stuff to it really isn't going to improve it much.  I would recommend making cheese pizzas until you get to one that makes you say, "Oh my God this is so good," and then start adding toppings.  Adding a bit of homemade sausage (with fennel and chilis, perhaps) to an already amazing pizza makes life worth living. 

Things you can do to explore making the perfect cheese pizza (don't do all of these at once, or you'll never isolate which part of the pizza "makes it" for you - do one at a time; it will make a better pizza and it will make you a better cook):

Mess with the flours in the dough, with how long you let it sit, with how thick you roll it, etc.  

Try brushing olive oil on the crust before you add the sauce.  

Make the sauce a few different ways from a few different recipes.  

Add a little parmesan or asiago or whatever sort of cheese you like.

Pizza Dough
Tomato Sauce
Mozzarella
Toppings

For the dough (borrowed, adapted, and changed weekly from Alice Water's recipe in The Art of Simple Food, which is one of my go-to cookbooks, if you'd like a cookbook suggestion):

Anywhere from 2-5 hours before you want to eat pizza, start this process:
Whisk Together:
1t. active dry yeast (we buy it in big bags and keep it in the freezer in a mason jar)
1/4c. wheat flour
1/4c. white flour (unbleached, please)
2/3c. warm water (it should feel like bathtub water)
- let sit for 30 minutes until bubbly.

Add:
1/2c. warm water
1/4c. olive oil (give or take)
1t. salt (when making bread or pizza dough, a rule of thumb I use is put in equal parts salt and yeast... somehow, the ratio usually works out)
2-3c. of unbleached flour, or enough to make a dough that cleans the bottom of the mixing bowl or, if you're tactile, that feels only slightly sticky to touch but doesn't leave any gunk on your hands when you touch it.

Put the dough in a bowl and cover it with a towel.  Let it rise for anywhere from 1-4 hours.  The longer it rises, the more flavor it will have (which is true of just about any bread).

This recipe makes about 2 medium-sized pizzas, but I usually cut it in half and make either breakfast foccacia or cinnamon rolls for the next morning with it since there are only two of us eating pizza.*

Tomato Sauce:
Preheat oven to 450.
When tomatoes are not in season, use 16oz canned tomatoes.
When tomatoes are in season, we use whatever tomato has a good texture (i.e. not mealy).  Four big heirloom tomatoes cut into 2" pieces should do the trick.
- place tomatoes in an oven-safe pan (we use glass - it's the easiest to clean).
- drizzle pan with olive oil (I've never measured it, but it's probably between 1/8 and 1/4c)
- sprinkle salt and pepper on top
- add a drizzle (probably 1t-1T depending on taste) of balsamic vinegar if you like a sweeter sauce
- you can add dried herbs if you like; I wouldn't add fresh - roasting them at this high of a temperature does not do them justice.  Dried are fine because they need the time, heat, and moisture to release their flavors.
Roast in the oven until the tomatoes start to blacken.  Don't burn the whole pan, just look for the tops starting to get dark.  Your pan will be covered with brownish splotches.  It will be okay.  Someone smart invented metal scrubbers for that.  Teflon and I are in a permanent fight.  Non-stick pans would be great if stuff didn't stick to them, inviting me to use whatever is necessary to clean them.  Also, you cannot properly whisk custard without a metal whisk.  Also, if I want to use a fork to stir my eggs, I am going to use a fork to stir my eggs.  We do not own non-stick pans.  It's cast-iron, enamel, and stainless steel for us!

Mozzarella:
Making your own is fun.  All you need is rennet (sold in most natural food stores) and a gallon of milk and some time to knead the curds into mozzarella balls.   You will develop Popeye-like forearms, but it's for a good cause.  I couldn't get mine to have a consistent texture, so I've decided to support people who can by buying their cheese.  Someday, I will talk about how much I love cheese.  And Wisconsin (sorry, Minnesota).


*Breakfast foccacia: super easy => flatten the dough into an oven-safe pan (we use a 9" round casserole, but you could use an 8x8 glass pan or anything that size), pour a bunch of olive oil (probably 1/4c. at least) and honey (2T-1/4c) on top.  I top ours with thyme, which has a really interesting flavor with the honey, and a little bit of salt.  If we have grapes, they're fabulous on top as well right along with everything else.  Bake right along with your pizza, though it might take a little longer; set a timer - I have burnt many a breakfast foccacia by not setting timers.

*Cinnamon rolls: again, super easy => roll out the dough so that it is 1/4" thick.  Soften 1/4c. (half of a stick) of butter.  Schmear the butter WITH YOUR HANDS all over the surface of the dough.  Mix 1/3c. brown sugar and 2t. cinnamon (all cinnamons are not created equal.  I recommend Penzey's Vietnamese cinnamon; it is seriously life-changing).  Sprinkle b.sugar and cinnamon over top.  Drizzle with honey or molasses, if you like.  Put nuts on if you like.  Put raisins on if you like.  Roll it up.  Cut the rolls into 2" thickness.  Put them in a greased oven-safe pan.  I put mine in the fridge and pull them out 1 hour before baking (about the same time I start preheating the oven).  For frosting, I mix equal parts butter and powdered sugar (you can use cream cheese in place of butter, if you like) and add a little almond or vanilla extract.

There you have it.  A super-long and complicated post on a super-simple and delicious meal.

People of the Feast - Why We Eat

My husband and my lives revolve around food.  Having both worked in more kitchens than the average person in their 3rd decade, having hosted and attended dinner parties we hoped would never end, having had the simple experience of opening a bottle of wine on a random night of the week and realized it bought us the time to talk to each other, to be with each other, and to learn how to fall in love again; food and drink is more than the nourishment of our bodies: it is the nourishment of our souls.

It's no wonder that the Eucharist is bread and wine... food and drink... but so often, we miss the wonder of this meal in our fast-food-eat-in-your-car world.  Scarfing down our nourishment as though an inconvienence, hoping nobody speaks to us so that we can move on to our next tasks, I think how we approach our meals is ultimately telling in how we live our lives and telling in how we live our lives of faith: hoping it doesn't slow us down long enough to inconvenience us, long enough to change us, long enough to make us think, "How did we ever come to be so blessed?"  So we go to our faith communities, hoping to scarf down enough to remind our bellies that they are empty, rather than to remind our bellies that our meager meal is the Great Feast, which fills to overflowing.  How we eat is how we live.

Now, don't get me wrong: you don't need to be a chef or even love food to approach a meal as something more than an inconvenience (I must confess, it helps).  Even a simple meal of a box of pasta, a bit of butter, and some parmesan cheese can have as much joy as a rack of lamb (or steak, if you're of a more Midwestern persuasion).  A simple meal can be rendered a feast in its approach.  Boil the pasta, saute some garlic in more butter than what you're comfortable with, and (for the love, buy real parmesan cheese - it's not that expensive!) a grate of parmesan cheese.  Put a tablecloth on the table (or a bedsheet if you lack a table cloth), light a couple of candles, and voila!  Feast.

Much of our food philosophy has been borrowed from varied sources: from friends who are chefs, from books we have read, from people who find themselves nourished by good food, good drink, and good company, and from our own experiences of discovering the propensity for food to mitigate continually falling in love: with each other, with the world, and with the Creator who, for whatever reason, gave us empty bellies and hungry hearts.

If you have not read The Supper of the Lamb by Robert Farrar Capon, buy a copy now.

He says: "To a radically, perpetually unnecessary world; to the restoration of astonishment to the heart and mystery to the mind; to wine, because it is a gift we never expected; to mushroom and artichoke, for they are incredible legacies; to improbable acids and high alcohols, since we would hardly have thought of them ourselves; and to all being, becuase it is superfluous; to the hairs on Harry's ear, and ot the seven hundred and sixty-eighth cell from the upper attachment of the right gluteus maximus in the last girl on the chorus line.  We are free: Prosit, Dear Hearts.  Cheers, Men and Bretheren.  We are free: nothing is needful, everything is for joy," (Capon, 86).

If everything is for joy, then each meal is a feast.  Whether it's the poker chip communion wafer and shot glass of wine body and blood of Christ, or whether it's a rack of lamb lovingly prepared for friends or family, it's a feast.  It reminds us that our lives are unnecessary gifts; we take delight in these gifts because God delights in them, and indeed, in us, as indicated in Psalm 18:19.  Here's to the feast! 

4.22.2012

Carne Asada (kind of... we don't really use recipes that often)
Guacamole (yeah, yeah... avacados are not local, but they are delicious, and sometimes delicious wins over local/organic/etc)
Escabeche (or, my term of endearment for it: ishy-bishy)
Homemade Tortillas

Rhubarb Fool (our rhubarb has just gotten big enough to use - and fool is the easiest and most impressive way to eat it)

We don't really use recipes, but if I had to guess, here's my best shot:

Carne Asada:
Meat (choose your mid-range desired form of steak... I think we used flank steak)
Marinade (again, I am guessing on the quantities):
  Traditional: 1/4c. tequilla, 2T lime juice, 2 cloves garlic, onions, chipotle peppers (or a more spicy pepper, if you prefer)
  What we did: 1/4c. red wine vinegar, 2T lime juice, 2 cloves garlic, 1 red chili pepper, mustard (Ben puts mustard in just about every marinade we make).
  Marinade 4 hours; overnight is better.
  Grill until medium-rare.  (Touch test: When you touch it with your finger, it should resist, but return to its original shape.)

Guacamole (best made in a mortar and pestle; it won't turn brown nearly as fast, if at all!):
  1 avocado
  1 clove garlic (optional, but I love garlic)
  Cilantro and Salt, to taste.
  Pound the avocado and ingredients in a mortar and pestle.

Escabeche
  1 carrot, sliced into 1/2 inch chunks
  1 celery stalk, sliced into 1/2 inch chunks
  3 cloves garlic (garlic is seriously our health insurance plan - it's better than most of the plans out there!)
  1/2 medium onion, sliced thinly
  1 jalepeno, quartered
  1/2c. vinegar
  1/2c. water
  1t sugar
  1t salt
  1 bay leaf
  - Put the carrot, celery, garlic, onion, and jalepeno into a mason jar.
  - Place the vinegar, water, sugar, salt, and bay leaf into a saucepan over medium heat. Bring to a boil.  Pour over vegetables.  Wait 60 minutes or until cool; the more time you give the veggies, the more pickly they get.

Homemade Tortillas:
  2c. all purpose flour
  2T butter or lard
  1t. baking powder
  1/4t. salt
  - mix the flour, salt, and baking powder with the lard with your fingers until the mixture is uniform.  Add water (around 3/4c) to make a dough that feels a little like playdoh (this is the texture you want pie crust to have as well).  Divide into 12 dough balls.  Roll on a floured surface.  Place on a heated cast-iron, enamel, or stainless steel pan over medium heat.  Flip when it has brown freckles.  Burn a few.  It builds character.

Rhubarb Fool (is foolishly easy to make and wickedly delicious)
  Rhubarb part:
  8 stalks rhubarb (as fresh as you can find - this dessert is meant for April/May!), cut in 1/2 inch chunks
  1/2-3/4c. sugar, depending on how tart the rhubarb is
  1T lemon juice
  - Put rhubarb, sugar, and lemon juice in a saucepan over medium heat.  Reduce until the rhubarb has disintegrated into a sauce (about 10 minutes, but just watch for it to look like pie filling; don't burn it because you're too busy following directions!).
  1c heavy whipping cream
  1/4c. sugar
  1t. vanilla
  1 cardamom pod's worth of seeds, crushed.
  - whip cream and cardamom, adding sugar gradually, followed by vanilla.  Whip until it forms soft peaks (pull out the whisk, and it should look like a wave starting to crash).
 
We tend to drink whatever wine (regardless of color or type) we are in the mood for.  If Ben were inclined toward margaritas, I would have lobbied for them, but it is a losing battle.  We drank a new-to-us Malbec that didn't really work that well with the meal.  We ended up pouring half of the bottle into our red wine vinegar starter.  Oh well.

In other news, today I made the first fresh flower cuttings for our Sunday bouquet.  We ate outside by candlelight with a beautiful mix of spring flowers.  A life in which there is good food, candles, and spring flowers can't be that bad.  Fortunately, the IRS doesn't tax happiness, because I am oh so rich.

Eating our Way into a Healthy Marriage

Despite the fact I busted our camera while we were traveling in Kenya (which will preclude pictures of our adventures on this blog for now), I have been thinking a lot lately about writing about food.  Though I write a daily blog regarding the RCL texts appointed for each day, it still doesn't get at all the components of my life that feed my faith, my body, and my soul.  So, I have decided to join the millions already writing about food not because I necessarily want my voice to be heard, but because I want to teach myself to listen to the hunger within.  It is a way of remembering forward and back how Ben and I have eaten our way into a healthy marriage.  It all happens around the dinner table. At  least, that's what we're banking on.