…Pizza

1. The clock’s ticking, dude.  I think the Ninja Turtles are responsible for my pizza obsession.  I won’t even begrudge them for once giving me the idea to bake my frozen ham-and-pineapple with jelly beans on it.

2. Gots the dough?  I’m a fan of making my own pizza because you can control the toppings (all the good stuff without the dreaded onions) and, hence, the nutrient/fat content.  Less fat in pizza = more pizza = win.  Fresh pizza dough is amazing and if a culinarily unco person like me can make it, anyone can.  I bought some pizza-specific flour (which I think means normal flour with a pizza dough recipe on the box), dried yeast, bit of salt, warm water.  Knead.  Let it expand for a coupla hours.  Divvy it up (my recipe made enough for 8 bases and you can freeze the dough for later), flatten, top, bake.  BAM.  Amazing.  

3. That wood-fired family flavour.  So there’s been a lot of hoohah about the wood used in pizza ovens in Naples – the fuss being that it may be from exhumed coffins.  Yeah, that old chestnut.  Prior to this, the hoohah was about the pizza itself – apparently the best in the world.  In Eat Pray Love, Elizabeth Gilbert talks about how pizza in Naples is so good it makes you cry with regret over all the mediocre crap you’ve ever eaten that was merely masquerading as pizza.  The stuff in Naples is the real deal.  If it’s that good, and it takes a few contraband logs to make it, then I say dig away…