BELLA PIZZA!!

a la nonna!!!
dudes,
y'all don't even know about the pizzaiolo quest i'm on.
and these days,
with the inclusion of site-and-situation-specific bread flour,
my dough game has gone into evolutionary overdrive on an epic scale.
now,
my mother's family are all a bunch of little sicilians,
and while i never felt especially italian myself,
it seems i have an innate genetically-predisposed aptitude for pizza.
yup.
especially these mutha-effin' grandma-style sicilian jauns.
holy sh!t.
or, as they love to say: MARONE!
yeah.
i got really deep into the dopeness, and i went exxxtra-hard on the druid-conjuring,
and i ended up with a pizza speciale a la nonna bella for your face.
check the flippin' teleport:

MAMA MIA, THAT'S AMORE!
maaaaaan,
i did a thing, and it did wonders for my dough.
here's the recently edited and updated recipe:
-
*
PIZZA DELLA FORTE FORTEZZA!
-
in your dependable and dedicated upright stand mixer,
with a dough hook locked and loaded in place, knead together:
1 cup+ bread flour;
2 tsp salt;
1 cup semolina flour;
1 pkg fast-actin' yeast;
1 tsp sugar;
4 T vegan butter, softened;
1 cup warm water, w/ 2 tsp agave, and 2 tsp bread yeast, bloomed;
-
yo' A* ain't ready for what's up with this.
real talk.
it rose like a balloon. it crisped like a dream.
it had focaccia-style fluff!
it had the semolina tooth-bite!
it was firm enough to stand up to the bend-test!
the fold-over was ON POINT!
neighbors,
i think i might've changed my culinary reality AGAIN.
no jokes.
i have my baking stones in the oven at all times,
and i had the air circulating convection-style at 485℉.
that's pretty hot.
and that's what you need if you want the boomfire fresh-to-death flavor
to truly activate all available expertism from the square pan to your two hands, man.
word.
spinach on the bottom, minced maxxx-melt daiya dopeness over that,
with a dusty dose of nootch for good measure.
we have caramelized sweet onions laid out on top.
y'got baby tomatoes, bottoms-up, in there,
and naturally, there's a manly dose of fried garlic sprankles, too.
i mean, c'mon-
what am i?
an A-hole?
....no F*ing way.
 i'm smart at pizza, and besides, rules is rules.
Folk Life & Liberty Fortress apizza-pie has to have the garlic, or else it's NOT invited.
then,
there's a LOT of crushed tomato sauce,
and red onion, and however long it takes to exxxplode with golden-brown goodness
fresh out of the oven......
and then,
because too much is the right amount:
FRESH BASIL.
you want it, you need it, you absolutely have to have it,
because that freshie-fresh turns it up to eleven immediately,
and that's the TRUTH.
not pictured: the scallion sprankles, on that really-real sicily tip.
mmmmhmmmmm.
triple onion grandma style.
my nana mae loved onions, and i loved her, so here we are.
***********
the Folk Life & Liberty Fortress is clearly cursed.
i'm serious.
every man who has ever lived here has ended up solo.
that's no joke.
one hundred percent, since 1870.
that's a lot.
but here's the thing-
i was cursed waaaaaay before i ever moved here,
so this one is gonna have to take a back seat to the blood-poison curdling in my DNA.
ha!
yeah.
i may be home alone again, again,
but the caustic and vitriolic quicksilver, barbaric bile, and p!ss-tinged vinegar
that course through my veins were already there well in advance of
each and every failed attempt at intimate interpersonal connectivity.
awwwwwwwwwwwww.
so,
which worsened and ruined it first?
the intractable boundaries set in stone by warrior poetry,
or the insidious infiltration of ghostly goodbye-bye taint of my haunted house?
we may never know for sure,
but it's all gonna be all good again, regardless.
yup.
i'm grateful, guys, for allllll the time i have been given,
the best parts, and the big bummers, too-
bitter and sweet;
beginnings and endings-
it's all really happening,
and all of it leads somewhere.
that's unintentionally P.M.A,
and also an apologetically motivational philosophy soundbite,
but,
it's also a true story.
so,
shoutouts to the spirit and memory of real life, Folk Life, real love, romantic love,
and interwoven active participation.
...it doesn't always go the distance,
but it never goes to waste.
sorry, house curse, but that's a fact.
i'm sure you'll be here to undermine the next one, too,
but not if my infinite nature beats you to it;
never quiet, never soft.....