How to make your own pizza (without a phone)
One of my housemates in Pennsylvania had worked, at some time in his educational career, in a Pizza Hut. Sometimes when we felt ambitious (and weren’t grilling, something we did quite frequently once he fell off the vegetarian wagon,) we would make pizza. I still do it, now and then, because of all the things I cook for myself it has the best satisfaction-to-work ratio. Tonight I was thinking about how many of the steps I learned from him.
So: the guy’s guide to home-made pizza.
Now Playing: Hockey Skates from Failer by Kathleen Edwards
Crust: This takes time, so you need to plan ahead for this part. If you buy a grocery-store crust, skip to sauce; otherwise, here’s what you need to do in advance.
We made pizza dough in the bread machine. The machine I use now included a whole-wheat dough recipe in the manual, which I use. It just runs the mixing and kneading cycle, and doesn’t bake; you wind up with a blob of dough which is (generally) enough for two pizzas. I tend to make this a day or two in advance, break it into two blobs, and stow them in the fridge. Gallon-sized zipper bags are good for this; tupperware and the like may not be, because the dough will keep rising. The batch I used tonight had popped the lid off its container and was starting to dry out. Fortunately, I saved it in the nick of time.
My housemate stretched the dough by entirely by hand, but I lack that talent entirely. Instead, I lay out a big, square cookie sheet, and pour on a thin dusting of cornmeal. I flatten out the blob of dough and stretch it some by hand, then do the rest of the flattening with a rolling pin. If it’s sticking to the pan, lift it gently and apply more cornmeal to the pan. This can be really frustrating, because the pan slips around on the counter as you’re rolling; if you have a wide, clean counter you might be able to just spread the cornmeal right on the counter and roll out the dough there. Anyway, once you’ve got something that’s pretty even and mostly disk-like (do not aspire to a circle, or even a regular shape; those are made by pros who have tools,) crimp the edges up just a smidge with your fingers.
Then stab the heck out of it with a fork.
Seriously, just prick the top of the crust, all over, with a fork. The idea is that the baking is going to produce some steam; you don’t want your crust bubbling up, so you need to ventilate. Go ahead, go nuts. Perforate it.
Now put it in the oven for six or eight minutes at 450° (you preheated the oven, right?) and turn your attention to what you’re going to put on it when it comes out. When to take it out? When it’s slightly crisp on the top (poke it with the fork again) and maybe browning a bit around the edges. Remember, it’s going to have a lot of stuff on it when it goes back in, so it won’t be baking much more.
Sauce: Picking the right sauce is tricky, and depends on your taste in pizza. It’s important, because it has as much effect on the taste of the pizza as the toppings do. My housemate used tomato paste, which you can lay on thick without making the pizza drippy; he’d spread on an even layer, like paint: enough to hide the crust, but no more. A. doesn’t like the sauce that thick, so we use pre-made pizza sauce; you can use nearly any tomato sauce, but be aware that pasta sauces are probably going to make for slightly soggy and probably runny pizza.
The important part of applying the sauce is to apply it evenly, and make sure you get it right out to the edges. You won’t be putting toppings where you don’t have sauce, so don’t give up any valuable deck space by not covering it with sauce!
Toppings: You probably know what you want to put on. I use (depending on what’s in the fridge) all colors of bell peppers, onions, mushrooms, chicken, turkey bacon, etc. We have a pizza shop in town which will put nearly anything on a pizza (don’t miss the lasagna pizza! It has noodles!) so I don’t feel too constrained about what I’ll put on; just as long as it hasn’t gone soft (and I like the taste.) How one green pepper can go soft and runny while its shrink-wrapped neighbor, trapped in the same tiny airspace, stays crisp, is beyond me. Maybe it’s freshness cannibalism.
Notice that the toppings, despite their name, go on before the cheese. Also, make an effort to spread them around the pizza. If you don’t pay attention, they’ll clump up in the center, and you don’t want them all there; you’ve got to cut through there to make the slices. “You don’t want to center-load your pizza,” said my housemate.
Cheese: You’re best off with mozzarella, of course. I prefer “part-skim,” because the so-called “fat-free” stuff looks eerily plastic when it melts. It’s irrelevant whether you get a bag of pre-shredded stuff (you’ll use most of a bag on a pizza this size) or buy a block and grate it; the only difference is the price and the amount of work you have to put in yourself, and they vary inversely.
Again, lay it on evenly, and try to get out to the edges. Don’t lay it on thickly; you don’t want the pizza-chain blanket of cheese, but a sort of sheet that will lock your toppings to the pizza. When the cheese melts, it should melt down around the toppings, not smother them.
Bake: Back in that 450° oven. Eight to ten minutes. The sign of the pizza being “done” is that the more exposed bits of cheese, particularly around the edges, will start browning.
Pull it out, let it cool a bit, and slice. (It needs to cool before slicing, so the melted cheese doesn’t re-bond the pieces.) The rest you can figure out for yourself.
Comments
Although it might make it into more work than ‘guys’ pizza.
Posted by: Barb | May 19, 2005 1:54 PM