When the Moon Hits Your Eye...

Oh my sweet, gentle readers, 14 hours later I can still taste the fresh, juicy tomatoes, feel the crunch of the bell peppers, smell the freshly toasted garlic, see the wonderfully browned tops of the one day old mozzarella, and, and, um, hear the olives, shaking in their aluminum can. You see, friends, last night, I stole Peter's idea, and Rachel and I made Pizza.

OH it was glorious! It was fresh, it was flavorful, it was easy and it was fun, but most of all, it was Peter's idea, and I stole it.

Before launching into the recipe (which, I know, is not the general practice in this space), a little background. Sunday began as all Sunday's do, Cafe Pettirosso and a Crossword, duly dispatched. Sitting around and shooting the breeze about the day's possibilities, the topic of the Ballard Farmer's Market was breached. Never mind that I had shot down that possibility when it was earlier mentioned, we were off.

The very first booth of interest was a cheese booth (surprise, surprise, there are probably 17 cheese booths at the Ballard Farmer's Market), where Rachel and I picked out a Cow's Milk cheese which was a bit pungent and very good, and then grabbed a tub of Mozzarella, which the woman behind the counter duly informed us was yesterday's milk, which was pretty exciting to hear.

We went in search of produce, but (it being winter and all) were unable to do better than beets, turnips, carrots, etc. which I vetoed on the grounds that I don't like beets, I don't like turnips, and we never use our carrots anyway. It was around this time that Pedro mentioned an interest in making Pizza that night. Now, normally I shy away from the labor intensive practice that is baking, especially seeing as I still work in a bakery, and don't particularly enjoy it. But for whatever reason, I had been thinking about baking that very day, cookies, bread, something, so Pizza piqued my interest. Long story short (I know, I know), rather than share my mozzarella with Peter, I stole his idea instead.

{+} K and R's Italian Love Fest

Rachel and Andrew's Sauceless Pizza
serves 4, or 2 with leftovers.

The pizza dough recipe I cannot take credit for and neither can Rachel. We pulled it from that oh so useful of Kitchen Resources: The Joy of Cooking. Rather than reproduce it here, I'll just give you a link. The only variation we made, not being comfortable enough with the process to experiment a lot, was to toss some thyme and some snipped chives into the dough, just to add something interesting. I'm not sure you could taste them, so next time we'll add more. anyway, here are some dough pictures.

Rachel's dough turned out much better than mine, possibly because we let it sit for a little longer after having risen and been separated (the state the dough is in below), or possibly because she is less of a screw-up than I am (show of hands on which is more likely....). At any rate, her experience as a pizza girl at a small town grocery store in rural Michigan helped her infinitely in making a nice, round basis for her pizza. Below right.

As is implied above, this is a sauceless Pizza, meaning we were way too lazy to make a tomato sauce, and way too stuck up to buy a prefabricated one, so we just chopped and chopped and chopped our little hearts out. There's no point listing our ingredients, because there's no reason not to use whatever you want on your pizza, but I'll list them anyway, then show you some pictures of chopping, some pictures of pre and post-baked pizzas, and some pictures of what a cute, classy, little Italian couple we are.

2 whole tomatoes, chopped
3 cloves garlic, minced
1 can olives, sliced
1/2 each of red, yellow, orange and green bell peppers, chopped
3 scallions, chopped
1 ball super-fresh mozzarella, sliced
6 or 7 mushrooms, chopped
1/2 a white onion, chopped

when you do all that chopping you will have this:
So after coating the dough with olive oil, just add as much or as little as you want to add, as artfully or haphazardly as you want to add it, and throw it in the oven at 475 for 12 minutes. If you live in an incredibly small apartment, like we do, a 475 degree oven will set off the fire alarm every time you open it, so be prepared for that. We only baked one at a time, because that's all we could fit on the bottom rack of our oven, these are 12" Pizzas, nothing to shake a stick at, but you could probably finagle it such that you baked them simultaneously. We knew we weren't going to eat both in one night, so it was no biggie.

Serve with bread, olive oil and balsamic, with some red pepper flakes and thyme, pour some deep glasses of Chianti, and you are in for an adorable provincial Italian date meal.

oh friends, that's amore.

Kribs

PS: terribly sorry to steal your proverbial thunder, Pedro, but I have a feeling your spirit of one-up-manship will see you though, no?

RECIPE RAMPAGE™

I've been cooking and eating a lot (because, hey, gotta survive), but not posting any of the recipes (because, hey, I'm kind of lazy). There's a backlog of dishes with pictures and recipes that I need to post in order to get the tubes working again, so I'm off on a Recipe Rampage™. This is where I post a whole bunch of recipes in a short period of time, in the frenetic, slathering rampage style.

I'm starting with what I cooked last Saturday, which was a precursor to the monthly (or so) Guild of Young Seattle Ale Brewers beer drinking get-together. The brew was dubbed the "Weber Porter" (in honor of the lovely Katie Weber, girlfriend of Wilson, and friend of all living creatures). It was widely touted as "a complex and chocolatey beer with a subtle nuttiness and overtones of fresh coca." Ok, I wrote that before I even tasted it, but it was still good. Next up is a brown ale that may or may not be nutty. As of yet, the nuts are undecided.

On to the the recipe, which was a variation on eggplant parmigiano--well, sort of. It was panko-breaded eggplant with fresh mozzarella, tomato, and basil, drizzled with a balsamic reduction. I guess it was more like the bastard love child of caprese and eggplant parmigiano, and it's something that has been brewing in my head since this summer. If the eggplant is fried properly, this ends up being a light and fresh dish

Jonah and Lauren came down early to have dinner with us before the beer gathering began, so the five us macked on this little number:
Here's how I made it:

{+} Eggplant Capregiano Recipe

Eggplant Capregiano*
Makes enough for five


2 Medium Eggplants
2 Cups flour
3 Eggs
2 Cups Panko Breading
4 Medium Tomatoes
2 Large Fresh Mozzarella Balls
1 Bunch of Basil
2 Cups Balsamic Vinegar
Your choice of frying oil (I opted for canola).

1. First, cut those lil eggplanters into slices as you see fit. I like mine a little thicker. Actually, why not just get all the slicing over with and do the tomats and mozz now too. This will be especially fun if you are the proud owner of the America's Test Kitchen Best-Buy-Rated Victoronox Chef's Knife.

2. Weep the eggplant. Ever since I learned that one could "weep" an eggplant, I've been saying this as often as I can. What it entails is salting the eggplant slices in order to draw some of the juices out. Some people say that it makes the eggplant less bitter (e.g., "weeping the bitter juices"). I can't say that I've noticed that, but what it is going to do is make your fried eggplant a touch less soggy. Let the salted slices sit for half an hour or so if you've got the time. You'll learn relatively quickly why it's called weeping. Then, wash the salt off and pat the eggplant slices dry.

3. Now, you'll want to heat your oil up. I opted for pan frying rather than deep frying, and it will work just fine as long as you get your oil real hot and shimmery. The hotter your oil is, the less soggy your final product is going to be.

4. While the oil is making its merry way up to 400 degrees (watch your smoke point, especially if you are Kibbee and Rachel), prepare your dredging station! I put the frying goodies in this order: flour, eggs, panko. Things worked beautifully.

5. Balsamic reduction! You can leave this out if you want, but I think it's delicious and adds a nice tang to the eggplant. Reducing vinegar is as simple as evaporating out some of the liquid, which concentrates the wonderful balsamic flavor and makes it sweeter. If you like your reduction sweeter, add a bit of sugar. Just put your vinegar in a pan** and off you go. Whisk it every now and again so it doesn't burn and once you've got about half the original volume it will be syrupy and delicious. I had the vinegar reducing as I cooked the eggplant slices.

6. Get frying! Not too many slices at a time, you want to keep the oil nice and hot so it doesn't penetrate your eggplants and make them greasy. When they're nicely browned on both sides, put them on some paper towels to help absorb some the extra oils. You can keep the done pieces warm in the oven as long as you let them dry for a bit on the paper towels and don't stack them in the oven.

7. Once the eggplant is done, stack your goodies: eggplant, tomato, a pinch of salt, mozzarella, balsamic reduction, basil leaf. Mmmmmm. While, the plating may be nicer with a whole basil leaf, Katie preferred to rip the basil up a bit and sprinkle it on so that it was easier to get with your fork.

A couple more pics for your enjoyment:

{+} Expand to see the pictures...

Much more, very soon.

Lovies,
Peter

*Excuse my dumb names. Please.

**Note to people who may be as silly as I am: Do not make your balsamic reduction in a cast iron pan. Obviously. Putting acid on cast iron is asking to ruin your seasoning and engender oxidation. N00b.