Saturday, April 13


it doesn't matter how salty you are as a person-
salty pizza is the way it's s'posed to be.
but, it's not how salty your chee' is,
or even how salty you make the toppings-
because if you forget to put salt in your dough?
that sh!t tastes flat as F*-
i'm not sayin' it's bad, but you never notice it until it isn't there.
that's real.
and guess what i did?
i effed it up.
which especially sucks because i made one epic pizza pie,
and blew it in the beginning before i ever really got all the way started,
and didn't notice until it was already in the oven.
check the teleport:

i'm so salty about that fancy dough, bro.
f'really real, it was all set up to be somethin' special.
i had two kinds of king arthur flour:
a cup of all-puprz and a cuppa bread specific,
autolyzed in 3/4 cup of warm water, with 2 T fire-roasted tomato flakes,
and 1/2 tsp black pepper, and 2 T exxxtra-vigin olive oil....
meanwhile i had 2 T real fresh-sapped maple syrup in 1/4 cup warm water,
bloomin' outta control with 1 pkg fast-actin' yeast-
and i kneaded all of that up in my bread mixer WITHOUT 2 tsp of sea salt.
what am i?
an A*-hole?
jeez, i might be.
it rose like you wouldn't believe.
and i was as excited as i could be about the prospects of my spongy circle
of puffy perfection as i set it out on my seasoned and oiled steel tray for assembly-time.
i had crushed tomatoes ready.
and chopped baby spinach (that's blue-collar kale, for all you eitists).
minced so delicious brand mozzarella chee'.
always minced, no matter what brand i get, because rules is rules, fools.
if you ain't mincin' your mozz', y'all must not like things to get better in your life!
anyway, i also had caramelized red onions,
with a clove of garlic in there for exxxtra oh-mommy umami magic.
that's right.
and seared sweet peppers, too, because it isn't sausage and peps without the peps-
OR the sausage for that matter-
i took two sliced links of my custom red-lentil seitan sausages,
and simmered them with a spoonful of fennel seeds in a bath of GPOP, black pepper,
and tamari in half a cup or so of warm water, with a glug of olive oil added in,
until it all absorbed and made 'em plump and luscious.
that's some serious gourmet sh!t right there, buddy.
i dusted it with some NOOTCH, too;
and freaked it off with those obligatory fried garlic sprankles
because too much is the right amount.
and whenever it's time to make pizza it had better go to eleven.
i am not even kidding-
homemade pee eye zee ze ayy is a perfect time to go way overboard,
and load up your dough with megatons of dopeness....
i mean, do you see how fresh that F*er looks?
the crust is dark (maple magic caramelization i'd presume)
and fluffed at the edges, with bubbles internally adding lightness to the whole thing.
it was like a focaccia from the future, with a blue-ribbon fair-food exxxplosion on top.
oh, and parsley at the end, just to turn up the prettiness.
i wanna see it lookin' so sexxxy before i cut it up.
y'eat with your eyes first, neighbors.
good thing too....
because without salt in the dough it was a beautiful-lookin' experience
that fell flat by the last bite of crust in every slice.
awwwww, man.
that's what happens when you're thinking of baby names and baking
and writing and scheduling and doing nine things at once the instant you walk in the door.
i should've taken a minute to collect myself and my thoughts,
but i was racing against the setting sun,
and i STILL lost because my overtaxed oven couldn't keep the pace.
womp womp.
i had mostly-expert pizza.
that's not enough.
it never is, even when it's totally amazing, it could always use a little bit more.
that's a thing.
now i know to be more present in whatever i'm up to.
less than that is too costly to the overall experience.
pizza is a universal totem for life and love.
if you're doing it right, it's always the best thing going-
and if you're doing it wrong, it's still not the worst thing.
there's room for improvement,
and for more salt;
never quiet, never soft.....

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