There’s something deeply satisfying about taking a few simple, raw ingredients and turning them into food that feels like a gift. And honestly, there may be no greater gift than pizza.
Many meals in our house are built around convenience. What can I pull together quickly after baseball practice? What ingredients do I have that I know everybody, especially the boys, will eat? Those meals have their place, but I love the times when I can plan a few days ahead, make a batch of pizza dough and know it will be ready when I fire up the wood-fired oven.
And if you’re going to make pizza dough, why make two or three balls when you can make 12?
That’s when dinner turns into a pizza party. Neighbors come over. Friends show up. Sometimes I tell people to bring a topping they love. Everybody gets involved, and before long, pizzas come out of the oven faster than we can eat them.
My sauce is about as simple as it gets. I take good tomatoes, run them through a food mill to remove the seeds and season them with a little olive oil, fresh basil and salt. That’s it. Pizza is one of those foods where I think restraint can be a good thing.
The dough is something I’m always playing with. I don’t really have one recipe that I use every single time. I like King Arthur pizza flour because it works well and, just as importantly, you can find it pretty easily. I’ll change the hydration depending on the style of pizza I’m making and who will be making the pizzas with me.
If I’m doing all the stretching, I might push the hydration higher. I love what that does in a really hot oven: the big, puffy edges, the little bubbles that blister and char and all that caramelization.
But higher-hydration dough can be difficult to handle, so when the boys or our guests are making pizzas, I use less water. The dough is easier to stretch and move, allowing everyone to have fun without fighting with it.
Sometimes I’ll autolyze the dough, mixing the flour and water and allowing the mixture to rest before adding the remaining ingredients. This gives the flour time to hydrate and begins developing the gluten before you’ve done much of anything. Other times, particularly when I’m baking in a conventional oven, I might add a touch of diastatic malt to encourage fermentation and browning.
You certainly don’t need a wood-fired oven to make good pizza. I have a pizza steel that helps create great oven spring in a conventional oven. A ceramic stone works, too. In a pinch, make pizza in a cast-iron skillet or even on a sheet tray. Will it have the same blistering and char as a screaming-hot wood-fired oven? No. Will everybody still eat it? Absolutely.
Then come the toppings.
I love letting the garden dictate what goes on a pie. This time of year, that might mean Sungold tomatoes and whatever peppers are coming in, including banana peppers, long hots, shishitos and jalapeños. Each brings something different: sweetness, grassiness, acidity or heat.
And there’s nothing wrong with the classics. Ground beef and onion, sausage, pepperoni and good mozzarella are combinations people have loved forever.
But pizza can also be whatever you want it to be. There really aren’t any wrong answers. I’ve made pies for dairy-free and vegan friends using almonds crushed into a sort of mock Parmesan. I’ve smoked, seasoned and marinated vegetables to create something reminiscent of pepperoni. There are also some genuinely good melting vegan cheeses available now that I’ve used with great results.
I’ve put eggs and potatoes on pizza. I love the wild combinations you find on Roman-style pies. And as for pineapple? If you like pineapple, eat pineapple. For something everyone calls “Hawaiian,” it’s pretty funny that Hawaiian pizza was actually invented in Canada.
To each their own.
That may be what I love most about pizza. I’ve always made pies that felt fun and exciting, using whatever was around me to make people happy. Pizza has never been something I’ve wanted to lock down or set in stone. It belongs to the moment you’re eating it and, more importantly, to the people you’re eating it with.
And when those people are your family, friends and neighbors, gathered in the backyard while another pie bubbles away in the oven, a little flour, water, tomatoes and cheese really can feel like a gift.
