The reason I hate white pies is simple: they're not as good as red pies. They're not succulent enough. And furthermore, I resent the way they have corrupted pizza nomenclature. The world was more simple before white pies showed up. A pizza was a pizza; you never had to distinguish the color. Anyway, I'm changing. The gray hairs on my head testify to that. Maybe when I'm a silver fox, I will trumpet to any young person within earshot, "when I was your age," blah blah blah.
I guess what I'm getting at is that I have a huge heart, a huge heart that's willing to love even the stinkiest of prodigal sons. Prodigal son? Does that even make sense here? Anyway, I thought I'd make my own white pie, and I started in the garden.
baby arugula
oregano, thyme and immature shallots
I also started with the olive oil. Call to the stage the first actors: it is time for some herbs and garlic to take a little swim in some warm olive oil. Let them infuse it with their flavor. Basically, I thought that one of the primary reasons why white pizzas are usually so bland is that the olive oil is bland, and so, over a very low flame, I infused a healthy quantity of olive oil with one (halved) clove of garlic, a bunch of chives, and a sprig of fresh oregano. Then, later, I sauteed my asparagus and shallots in this oil.
toppings: asparagus, jalapenos, oregano and thyme
Finally, I was ready to slice the fresh mozzarella (really nice mozz from a Vermont farm), grate the Parmesan cheese, toss out the dough and build the pizza. I brushed an ample amount of the olive oil all over the crust, laid down the slices of mozzarella, spread out the baby arugula, scattered the asparagus, along with its cooking oil, scattered the jalapenos, sprinkled the herbs, scattered the Parmesan, and, last but not least, cracked a raw egg onto the middle and slid the white pizza into a 500 degree oven.
I can now say that I have loved a white pizza. I'm even man enough to admit that this was not only the best white pizza I've ever eaten, but the best pizza, red or white, that I've ever made. Drizzled with a little extra herb oil and sprinkled with salt, OMG, so good!
p.s. here's my dough recipe
2 comments:
I wish I had a better diet. I'm going over to this guys house right now to drink because I never meet any new people, that talked shit about how I used to live like a vagabond. Some people leave people alone, realizing they're always in different stages of their lives, others don't. At any rate I've always known the poor man's perspective of the world, that's all I know. As a writer I'm supposed to try to access new kinds of experiences, but it's impossible! Great. A kitchen would be nice, I made something called "the widow maker" once in a kitchen and used all the pots and pans available: it entailed tiny bits of fried potatoes mixed into mashed potatoes, etc. I can't figure out which is worse: office depot, or staples? Not much going on in the way of food around my neighborhood. LA will probably let you down if you come here. I still have no idea why prices are higher here: it makes no sense, it's not even really nice or anything; there's graffiti everywhere. Can you please make the string-green-beans casserole with the brown crunchies on top like my Grandma used to on the farm.
I never went to Italy but my parents went many times. My Mom used to tell me they don't put red sauce on their pizza, but rather tomatoes, in northern Italy that is. I think yours could've used the acid to cut the cheese. Keep up the good work!
Janice
goodchardonnay.blogspot.com
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