It’s Saturday, and this is pizza day at our house. All these years in a second marriage, and my hubby and I never started any traditions that stuck. However, we recently discovered that we didn’t want pizza any day except Saturday, because that is when we usually made it. Go figure! It just happened that way. It needed a day that I knew when the DH would be home from work, and knew what time we would eat. Every other day is “iffy.” Making good pizza takes time, and it tells you when it is ready.
With a husband from NYC, making pizza is a risky business. His mouth is programmed for something he grew up on, and New York is famous for it’s pizza.
For years, we would trek to Black Mountain, NC. …A small town nestled into the mountains not far form Asheville. Besides being a wonderful get-a-way because it’s an artsy-crafty little village, it also boasts one of the best restaurants I have ever had the pleasure of eating at: My Father’s Pizza. They make the best Italian food. A few years back, our waitress told us the dough was the secret of their delicious pizza. The owner would come in late at night, after everyone had gone home, and make the dough after a long held family tradition. No one else knew the recipe, or how it was made.
Once gas prices started to rise, we cut back on our trips. So, I dusted off the bread machine, and tried a few recipes. After several adjustments, we came out with a decent pizza dough and crust. What really accelerated our success, however, was the new convection oven when my stove died last year! Oh, how glorious to watch the crust rising in magnificent golden-ness, as the cheese bubbles. …And it’s so fast! In just 10 minutes I am slicing and serving. Yumm…
Now, it isn’t necessary to have a bread machine to make good pizza dough. I have often made it the “other way.” It takes about the same amount of time, just less labor on my part. I like the eating part best!