Tales from the scribezki
Pizza was requested.
The air conditioning just barely kept up with the heat outside, but that only made for an easier proofing. I carefully measured the yeast, sugar, salt, and oil, and made sure the water was at the exact right temperature (110 F) before mixing the ingredients together. There is a very particular process in working in the flour, first by whisk, then handing things over to the Kitchenaid mixer. You want to wake up the yeast, feed it, give it flour to work with, and work the flour to produce the gluten to hold everything together. The mixer takes a whisk first, and as things built up, the dough hook. Two cups of all-purpose flour, followed by equal parts all-purpose and wheat flour. All-purpose gives you gluten and structure; wheat gives you density and flavor. When the Kitchenaid starts to struggle, that’s time to knead by hand.
From then on, the work is totally by feel, flouring (all purpose) hands and workspace and testing by feel. The dough should not be sticky. It should spring back, at least halfway, when poked deeply. It should feel heavy and dense.
To be clear, you can do all of the above by hand, no problem. It’s a lot of work, but totally doable, as I’ve done it. As you have to clean much less stuff after the fact, you’re probably better off making a pizza dough by hand than with a mixer for small portion sizes.
With the dough kneaded, you should prepare a proofing bowl. I recommend an 8-quart bowl but you do you. Slather that bowl with vegetable oil, drop the dough ball in, turn once, and cover with plastic wrap, with the wrap touching the dough ball. The entire point is to ensure the dough ball is not exposed to air so it won’t dry out and form a nasty crust. Put the bowl of dough in the oven, which you’ve put to the lowest temperature possible, and then turned off entirely. If you can put your hand in the oven and it’s uncomfortably hot but not painfully hot, it’s good to go. Put the bowl of dough in there, you’re now proofing. When doubled in size, all you have to do is punch it down, cut into portions, and either bag and freeze or roll out into pizza crusts. Dust with all-purpose flour, but when the rounds are about ready to go, switch to cornmeal, as that gives a good bite to the dough and keeps it from sticking to the cooking surface. Add sauce and toppings and bake at 425 F for 20-30 minutes.
I explain this to @starzki and her parents as we cook for them, to impress on them the extent to which we have home cooking on lock. They are in the living room, paying little attention. Star and I are in the kitchen, separated by a very thin wall. She is the most beautiful person in the world.
“Proofing? You mean rising, right?” she chirps helpfully.
I am very close to her, and I pull her into a kiss. It’s light, careful, the sort of kiss you share when your in-laws are ten feet away and watching TV and suddenly you’re in high school again and having a ten-second make-out session. My hands slide down her shoulders, grip her hips. My lips move down her jaw, soft kisses toward her ear. I whisper with commanding force, through my teeth.
“Don’t contradict me.”
I think she laughs harder than I’ve ever made her laugh in the past year. And I’m so relieved, because even as the words leave my mouth I realize it’s a pretty risky joke to make when we have guests who would easily hear her reaction. I think her parents assumed it was some silly in-joke they’d never understand, as we stumbled through the kitchen, giggling at each other madly for the next five minutes, and on and off for the rest of the night.
I do well with the pizza, mostly. The dough is as good as I’ve ever made. @starzki delivers her amazing sauce and she and her parents do well in preparing toppings. Our garden provides a plethora of spices. Our dinner is, in general, simple and rustic.
I’m about to turn in, and next to me is the most perfect woman in the world. That’s pretty goddamn neato.
