Dear Nick, Jake, Zach, Abby,
Jonathan,
Okay, Real Quick!
TODAY'S pizza crust
recipe contains several secret ingredients -- likely dangerous -- because
I ran out of flour. But the things I used to replace the flour created
the most amazing, low-gluten, crispy, healthful pizza crust. So I must share my process.
Ready?
After I added water to two teaspoons
of yeast from an industrial-sized canister I bought, in bulk, at a co-op, (it
is the size of a Kia Sportage but more expensive) a scary thing happened:
the yeast and warm water formed a wet clot ...much like from an episode
of House, only more grey. And pulsating.
So I consulted the BreadMaker Appliance
Guide to see where I went afoul.
Using hostile tones, the Guide
informed me that the yeast MUST remain dry, at all times, inside a flour-well
that I was to make with my thumb. Then, much, MUCH later, I was to add water,
but so far away from the yeast that it might as ‘well’ be located in Ethiopia
(which is the birthplace of my new favorite barley which is cooked
with its own edible husk, and is a wonderful substitute for broken pizza
crust).
At this point, I was supposed to hit
the BreadMaker’s START button so as to allow the marvels of mechanization to
mix the water and flour – and very separate yeast – safely.
So clear was the manufacturer’s
BreadMaker Guide that the coldest water possible was to be added to the
mixture, I had to wonder what made me add warm water to the yeast
in the first place.
Well. It was the directions on the Industrial Sized Canister itself.
"Measure warm water, 38 to 43
degrees Celsius (? uh oh) amounting
to four times the weight of dry active yeast into a container then add yeast
slowly with continuous stirring until yeast is completely suspended using as
you would Compressed Yeast."
Realizing too late this was written
without punctuation in a French-Canadian accent (note the UK-style 'U' in 'contin-u-ous'), I recognized that I never needed to suspend anything but my crust-building activity.
But I especially didn’t need to
compress my yeast until it approximated a Canadian metric measurement amounting
to four times the weight of a Celsius canister. "Too late now," I
said and dumped the yeast-clot onto the flour.
The proportions looked wrong to my
mathematically-trained eye. That and the fact that the ‘dough’ fell more accurately within the “cake batter” category – which is how I recognized I had added only three, not four, of the prescribed cups of flour.
Because that was all I had.
So I added a combination of Ground
Flax Seed Meal, Whole Oats, and Whole Fiber Food Powder leftover from my Chiropractor-Prescribed
Standard Process Purification-Shakes ... to amount to One Cup.
Mommy's Dough Ball: "The Color Purple" |
That is when the 'dough ball' turned
purple. (See photo) --------- >>>>>>>>
So I read the Whole Food Fiber Powder
Container for its ingredients and learned it is comprised of oat fiber, brown
rice bran, carrot root, apple pectin, beet fiber, beet root, whole beet, beet
root fiber, purple extract from beets, and beets, plus six grams of
'Proprietary Blend.'
I blame the purple on 'Proprietary
Blend.'
The dough ball is rising now ... but
not very high. Actually ... not at all.
I blame the Canadians.
I am baking it with homemade pizza
sauce made of chopped tomato and my own Proprietary Blend of home-grown herbs -- ‘proprietary’ because I lost the tags that identify them, but I THINK they
might be 'spicy oregano', 'peppermint', 'rosemary', and 'beet root fiber'.
My toppings will be green pepper,
onion, garlic and tofu, then I am covering it in Fiesta Cheese Blend. (I know
...it was almost vegan)
I will use Douglas House O' Pizza
Dough-Pulling Skills I learned from Zach and Abby when they worked there (I
wonder if they’re hiring now. The restaurant, not my kids, although I do support nepotism and give generously whenever I can).
If that doesn’t work, I shall employ
a religious laying on of hands or rolling pin or Nick’s Nissan Maxima … onto
the dough (covered first by sterile wax paper). Then I shall press the crust onto a clay pizza stone ... where it will rise while I recycle things at the dump because Oh Look
It's Tuesday.
I will let you know this afternoon what
happened! So far, it looks like it's going to be delicious. I will make it again for all
of us when next we are together (sans cheese for my vegans and the lactose-intolerant, avec coconut flour for the gluten-sensitive, and avec pork tallow for my carnivore).
Love,
Mom
Jake: I love that you started
this out with "Real Quick." ??
Jonathan: Real Quick...let me transcribe
the Dead Sea Scrolls . . . Then Isaiah begat
Joshua. Joshua begat Abraham. . . I'll call when I
get off the pike to see if a call into Douglas House O Pizza is necessary.
Abby: Dad if you’re calling D-HOP get their meatball calzones. Yum!!
Zach: Agreed, Abby, also try 'The Huxtable' named after my band.
Nick: You’re using my Maxima to cook? *Unsubscribe*
DEAR FAMILY,
I decided to bake my pizza Real Quick
and eat it myself, due to everyone’s support. SOO delicious there are
only 2 slices left, which I am saving as apps for the cat.
Oh, the red vegan-looking discs that
resemble pepperoni in the photo? They're
pepperoni.
The Most Delicious Thing My Family Will Never Eat |
But they are turkey pepperoni.
This is the most healthful, delish
pizza ever even though it harbors dairy-style cheese and not the kind made from nutritional yeast and cashews, and faux pork byproduct and not the kind
made from pig or soy clots.
I am only sorry that it can never be
made again. Mistakes like this
happen once in a lifetime.
By the way, unrisen crust – as unholy
as this sounds – is far better than crust which has risen, Amen. If everyone is very good in their email
responses to Mommy, mayhaps I will replicate this crust for Passover, which I am celebrating in Rhode Island, upon my holy conversion. Unsubscribe that.
Shalom