Monday, April 10, 2006
Pssssst... don't tell the Frog but I'm madly in love. I'm having a love affair with my new pizza stone. My whole world has deep and passionate flavour now. I don't know what I did without his sleek lines and hard, hot body...
But seriously, I really do love my new pizza stone. It has really changed the way I see homemade pizza. Depending on how your oven is behaving, getting great pizza crust is a crapshoot at best (read: average ordinary oven which technically isn't YOUR oven because it's in an apartment. You get what you can).
A few days back I meant to have a post about my new pizza stone and its wonders but my dough sat in the bowl like a lead weight. We sat there, the dough and I, staring at each other. And that's about it. No rising, no lovely yeasty smell. NOTHING. I was miserable. Ben was miserable. It was too late to make a new batch after all that waiting. There was silence and pouting until I whipped some Indian food under Ben's nose. Honestly, I don't know what he'd do without me *wink, wink*
With renewed determination I whipped up some more dough yesterday. I watched over it like a frenetic mother. I started to panic after a while when I saw no activity but with a quick change of location the action began. After a while I whipped off the saranwrap and was hit by a lovely yeasty scent. HURRAH! With hope and determination I'd already put in the stone and it was heating up beautifully.
But don't think that was the end of my trials. It wouldn't be my life if it had all ended there so easily. There were stupid slip ups of touching the metal carrying rack with a finger tip (swearing occured here). There was whipping the dough into a decent pizza shape (cursing involved here). There was the realization that I couldn't carry the decorated pizza to the stone because I didn't have it on anything that would allow pick up (enter explicatives here). And there there was the actual carrying that involved topping mixups (much fuming here). But when that dough hit the scalding hot stone the whole apartment filled with the seductive smells of pizza dough, tomato sauce, cheese... All was forgiven.
Like a mother giving birth, I didn't remember the pain I went through. I only saw the beauty of my baby. And my baby tasted good too. Crust was a bit overcooked and I know to add more toppings next time but I felt like I was tasting a real pizza for the first time in I don't know how long. And I made it. Now there are so many toppings to try... lardons... potatoes... cream... *fade away*