Among the family recipes we have in our spiral notebook is Grandma’s pizza dough, dutifully transcribed by Mrs. P one day many, many pizzas ago. 

Pizza just might be the perfect food, to my mind. It’s got crispy dough, cheese, any and every topping you could want, and (often) garlic and olive oil. What’s not to love? 

When I make pizza (which isn’t quite often enough to satisfy me . . . ), I make two, and I usually do one with red sauce and the other as a white (non-tomato sauce) pizza. I’ve taken some pictures of recent creations with a mind to doing a pizza post one day (in fact, yesterday was supposed to be that day, but work pressed), and the two white pizzas might just fit the bill for “light tomatoes.” (Or not.) 

Grandma’s Pizza Dough

(yields 2 pies)

2 pkgs. instant acting yeast

1-1/4 cups warm water

pinch sugar

3–3-1/2 cups flour

2 tsp. salt

1/4 cup olive oil 

1.         Start by proofing the yeast: getting it to reproduce, foam, and deliver that lovely yeasty aroma. Fill a measuring cup with 1/2 cup of hot water. How hot? Hot enough that you want to pull your finger out of the stream from the tap. Add the two packages of yeast and a little sprinkling of sugar to help the yeasties get started. Stir the yeast and sugar into the water and then wait. Within minutes, you’ll have a wonderful rising foam: 

2.         While the yeast proofs, put 3 cups of flour and the salt in a mixing bowl and stir together. Reserve the 1/2 cup of flour; you may need more or less depending on the humidity and temperature and the whims of the kitchen gods.

            I use unbleached white flour; you can mix in some whole wheat if you want, but I’m not going to do that. It just isn’t right. Besides, Grandma might haunt me if I did. (You can’t serve Cuban black beans on brown rice, either: some things are sacred.) 

3.         Make a well in the center of the flour and pour in the yeast. Then add the rest of the water (same temperature as before) and the olive oil. Stir it all together with a spoon until most of the flour has absorbed some liquid. You can still have dry flour at this stage, and it will all work out. If there’s too much that’s dry, add a bit more water. If the dough is too, too wet, add more flour. 

4.         Sprinkle a quarter cup or so of flour on your work surface and put some on your hands as well. Then turn out the flour and liquid mixture from the bowl onto the surface. If there’s any spillage of flour, just use your hands to gather it all together into a lump (or what a real recipe might call a “ball”).

            Now you’re ready to begin kneading. I don’t have a picture of kneading, because my hands were full, but it works like this: use your two hands to mix together the dough by moving the outside edges toward the middle. Then push down on the middle, give the ball of dough a quarter turn, and repeat. And repeat. You might need to dust your hands with flour from time to time to keep them from sticking to the dough. You’ll need to knead for about five minutes, perhaps a bit longer. (You could use a machine to do this, but that would be foolish. Kneading is half the fun of making bread or pizza.)

            The dough will come together nicely and take a firm but springy ball shape. For those of you familiar with making bread, this dough will be a bit more dense than normal because of the oil. You’ll know when the dough is ready by poking it with two fingers. If the dough springs back where your fingers made the dent, you’re good to go. 

5.         Put a couple of drops of olive oil in a mixing bowl and drop the dough inside, turning it to coat with the oil. This prevents it from sticking to the side of the bowl as it rises. Your dough should look something like this: 

Cover the bowl with a dish towel and leave it in a warm, draft-free spot. It should rise enough in an hour or so. On a very warm day, check sooner. While the dough is rising, you can prep your toppings. 

6.         When the dough has risen it will look like this: 

(Yeast is magic.) You’re almost ready now! Preheat the oven to 425° F while you assemble the pies. This is the stage where you shape the pies. Start by punching down the dough, which means, quite literally, punching your fist into the middle of the risen dough. No need to be shy; you can leave a mark: 

Dump the dough onto the lightly floured work surface (you don’t need to be gentle with bread or pizza dough) and cut it in half using a dough scraper or knife. Set aside one half and work the other. 

7.         Knead the half piece of dough a few times, using the same technique as before, to make a ball. The dough should feel lighter than with the first knead. You don’t want to knead too much, as that will put too much air in the dough: just 30 seconds or so should be enough. (Or I’m just impatient when it gets to this stage.) You’ll want to pinch and smooth where there are seams.

            You can shape the pie by doing the whole spinning in the air thing, but only if you’re more coordinated than I am. I must confess that I use a floured rolling pin to stretch it out. (I know: pitiful technique. On the other hand, no one has ever complained about my pizza. Ever.)

            Add a dusting of flour underneath the dough whenever it looks like it’s sticking. Stretch it out to be slightly larger than your pizza pan. (You can, of course, use a cookie sheet.) 

8.         Prep the pan by putting a drop of olive oil and spreading it around. Then place the rolling pin on top of one edge of the dough and roll toward the center to lift the dough from the work surface. Move it over the pizza pan and gently lower it. Bunch the excess dough onto the edge to make the thick edge crust and pat the dough together. It should look something like this: 

Shape the other pie the same way. 

9.         You’re now ready to add the toppings. For a white (non-tomato sauce) pie, I add a drop of olive oil on top of the dough and spread it around before adding other toppings.

            For these light tomato pizzas, I used fresh mozzarella cut into slices. One pie is very simple: sliced tomato over the mozzarella topped by a fresh basil leaf. I added a sprinkling of capers for a little salty bite. 

For the other, I used sliced artichokes (the canned variety because it was a weeknight and I’m lazy) with halved grape tomatoes and some red onion for another color contrast. I sprinkled this with dried basil (didn’t have any fresh that day). As you can see, I’m a believer in lots of topping. 

10.       When you’re done assembling, put the pies in the oven. You’ll need about 20 minutes at 425 to bake the pies, but if you have a fast oven, they might finish sooner: I’d start checking at 15 minutes. About 10 minutes in, you might want to switch the position of the pies, moving the one on the lower rack to the top and the top one down. This will take care of differential heating in the oven. 

Take the pies out when the crust hits your desired level of brown. I like some color and crispness, so that the pies look something like this: 

If one pie is done before the other, just take it out. If there’s too much of a time gap between the finishing time of the two pies, you can always put the first one back to just warm a little after the second one is finished cooking. 

I like to sprinkle the pies with some grated parmesan. 

Let them set for about one minute before cutting.

A Note on Toppings

Toppings are a matter of choice, of course. Prosciutto goes very nicely with sliced artichoke. When I have leftover meatballs, they’ll go into a pie with onions or mushrooms. Italian sausage (cooked and then sliced) and green peppers are meant for each other, and may include onions as well. 

Mushrooms and goat cheese combine most happily. Onions and mushrooms work well without any meat: I usually sauté the mushrooms first. 

And there are endless other combinations as well. (But no pineapple. Please. I mean, really.) Cheeses can vary too, of course, though I tend to hover in the mozzarella, provolone, and goat cheese nexus.

Mangia!

Words and pictures © 2010 AtHome Pilgrim.

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