Pizza. Is there anyone who does not like pizza? I think if so, it must be a very limited group. Growing up, I was what was known as a very picky eater and I have unfortunately maintained some of my pickiness through the years, but pizza has been on my list of foods I love since I was, I am guessing, a thirteen year old.
I remember fondly being on a vacation, and by that I mean at or on the way to Niagara Falls, and I remember being hungry and opening up the ubiquitous cardboard box that has changed so little through the years, and taking out a pie slice slathered in sauce, cheese, and Italian spices and putting it on a napkin to warm up on the hotel TV. Those were the days before I graduated to eating pizza warm or cold!
Pizza is a part of the culture and part of our lives and it did not hurt that I married someone who was half Italian.
Today we are making pizza outside. I bought a wood-fired oven and we are going to set Mikey to making us delicious pizzas. He is going to use the appliance to make us the ‘real thing.’ Our oven was made in Finland, we have been looking at it for several years now, and having a son who is a private chef, I thought we could kill two birds with one stone. One, we can make it ourselves, two, we can lend it to him to take to his locales and produce simple, thin pizzas in a wood-heated environment, for his clients. The wood used is oak and in the shape of pellets. You get it going by lighting it with a blow torch or some non-chemically based fire starter.
You can make a simple pizza in supposedly one minute. Obviously, you have to make a good amount of them, but hey, that is half the fun.
The other thing I thought of is our wonderful ‘Alsatian Pizza’ known as tarte flambée, traditionally made in a wood stoked oven. Needless to say I am quite excited that when I get home from Oakton, that homemade pizza will be awaiting me.
More to come.