Sixteen inches of perfectly shaped pie resting on a pizza peel...
Topped with a sauce of San Marizano tomatoes, fresh basil cut from my garden some garlic and oregano (also from the garden) with a pinch of salt and pepper. The sauce was delicious. layered to within 1 1/4 inch of the edge.
Some smoked provalone and mozzarella then for the dairy portion of this work of art that was going to be dinner.
Then topped with pepperoni and portabello mushrooms on my half only.
A little grated Reggiano cheese top of that and it was ready to go.
Did I mention that it had practically shaped itself as I was making the dough, as if it new it was going to be something special, some grand pizza experience.
All had gone so well. the oven was ready.
550 degrees for at least 1/2 hour now.
My children shouted " when is dinner"
"soon, in just about 8-9 minutes" I bellowed to them down the hall.
My wife had set the plates at the table and now stood by my side for the grand finale the entry into the inferno, then bada boom bada bing, shortly there would be pizza, crispy, chewy hot cheesy pizza.
The oven opened I shook my pizza lightly on the peel, as I have done a thousand times before, I should have known something was wrong by now, it was in the air, you could almost touch it, something evil. It was much too silent I could feel the eyes of a
demon pizzialo over my shoulder willing the destruction of this masterpiece of pies. Time slowed ... My hand moved forward to shake the disc from the peel and onto the stone... And then it happened all at once the dough seemed to hook in two places at once on the peel and not come off, toppings were sent flying into the oven like a meteor shower on a hot summer night , the bottom of the dough ripped open and the back side of the pie flipped up and over the front, as I tried to pull it out, but it was to late for that too some of the crust had wound its way around the edge of the oven rack and was not letting go, so as I pulled the now 16 inch Frankenstein like calzone thing stuck on my peel was pullin away from me and tearing open spilling toppings all over the oven door and into the oven.The sound of sizzeling toppings and sauce as they were went to their deaths on the scorching surface of the oven. Afterwords I was told that all the carnage had lasted for a fraction of a second. I swear somewhere in the sound of toppings frying on the floor of my oven I could hear the high pitched laughter of the
demon pizzialo.
I set down the peel picked up the remanents of my creation and cradled it in my arms as if to comfort it in some way this unrealized dream of a pizza .
I then turned 90 degrees left and did a head fake around my wife and slam dunked the big pile of crap right into the garbage.
Right then my wife thought that she might tell me how I might have avoided that little mishap. >:(Before she got 2 words from her beautiful lips I politely told her that now might not be just the right time to expalin it to me.
:)There are some frozen pizzas in the chest freezer in the basement , I explained and that I would be leaving the house for the deck, where I could enjoy a cigar before my head explodes. She just smiled and waved .
Later this evening I am preforming an exorcism on my kitchen to remove the
Demon PizzialoTommorow I get right back in the saddle and make a pizza.
Demon or not nothing will stop me, on the quest for the best pizza.
