then you really have not been livin' life yet.
get after it,
and get that square jaun into your face, friends.
me?
i rep a grandma pie from time to time,
in a pan, on demand, out of hand, and righteously right angled,
in all the best ways, with sauce for days,
and alllllllll the toppings.
that's no joke.
i got home a minute early after an awesome tuesday full of filthy-mouthed ladies,
and made my own filthy nana tribute, from scratch,
as soon as i got to the Folk Life & Liberty Fortress.
mmmmmmhmmmmm.
i had a semi-semolina dough rising in minutes, dudes.
yup.
the dough is so damned important.
and there are ways to get it poppin' when time is of the essence.
for example,
a little sugar and a lot of yeast will do wonders,
so will added gluten, so your texture develops in minutes, instead of hours-
the thing of it is, i'll only allow myself to let it grow as long as the oven is preheating-
once we're all fired up?
ready or not,
it's go time, guys.
check the teleport, before we discuss process:
oh, c'mon...
where's my old people at?
it's hip to be square, for cryin' out loud!!!
no?
well, this pizza is F*ing expert,
even if you hate 80's references.
so,
i know you see those fiddleheads, right?
right!
i'm into the seasonally-appropriate site-specific native new england stuff.
my biggest gripe around here is that there are mostly poor people,
who also don't know anything about ingredients and vegetables and nutrition,
all in charge of produce procurement at all the markets in the area-
...that means no ramps.
awwwwwwww.
expensive weird garlic weeds are NOT even on the radar up here.
y'gotta go lookin' in the woods yourself.
...but who the eff has time to go foraging?
i barely have time to make pizza!
-
ok, ok, OK.
so, the double-dough was in full effect.
that's 1 cup semolina;
1 cup white flour;
2 T olive oil;
2 T sugar;
2 tsp salt;
1 pkg commercial yeast;
3/4 tsp wheat gluten;
+
1 cup warm water;
1 tsp agave;
2 tsp bread machine yeast-
(stirred and allowed to bloom)
risen for 15, pressed into an oiled pan, all the way to the edges,
and allowed to do its thing.
^^^^that's all there is to a decent double-dough^^^
nice.
*
i had the oven preheating to 490ºF,
then the dough got going,
and the onions got caramelized,
while the mushrooms got browned,
and the homemade vegan sausage soaked up it's pepperonification,
in a broth bath with smoked and hot paprika, olive oil, black pepper, and GPOP.
yum! YUM!!YUM!!
also, you kids down to get into some shredded spinach?!
that's good news.
and what about asparagus spears?
word up.
fried garlic sprankles?
i mean, we sorta HAVE to.
rules is rules.
just look closer, a little bit:
crushed tomatoes, chopped up daiya mozzarella chee',
up from-scratch seitan, more sauce,......
the toppings cascade and overlap, so every slice has a progressively more elite bite,
after bite,
after bite...
WORD.
this was a heroic big-crust big-action activator,
and i was fully committed to the fullest-figured experience.
it isn't easy, always, figuring out what is going to be for dinner.
pizza is ALWAYS a great idea, tho.
that's for real.
i knew i had treats that'd need baking,
and i knew there was gonna be a whole unholy hell of a lot of driving, too.
i had to have the nutrients, and i had to have a little new hampshire pizza,
before i got to the domain of the world's best pizza.
uh-huh.
heading into new new haven is always exciting,
because there is always pizza.
and, even though i just had this big-A* pizza,
there's always room for MORE PIZZA.
too much is the right amount.
that's a thing.
pizza is serious business where i'm from,
and i carried that with me up to the cold white north when i moved.
sure,
it's been forever since i left connecticut,
but my sauce-count still needs replenishing from time to time.
you can't ever really leave home for good.
not when those tomatoes are coursing through your DNA.
that's how it is, man.
if you weren't raised in the weird world of sicilian grandmothers
and italian-american pizzatime culture,
you won't understand.
y'can't,
because if you haven't been exposed to the TRUTH,
you may be into domino's or pizza hut,
or some other other sloppy butthole insult to what's really good in these streets.
and that's the difference between where i'm from and where you're from-
i got that true-story big action in my genes.
it's woven into the fibers of a multi-generational cultural tradition.
REAL pizza, dudes.
you've either got it, or you don't.
and if you can't understand that,
you'll never get it;
never quiet, never soft.....
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