Everyone knows the old chestnut, Pizza is like sex - when it's good it's good, and when it's bad it's still pretty darned good. Thing is, my pizza (yes, pizza, not sex) is to me, the best pizza I've ever had. That's a little goofy, and likely not true, but you couldn't prove it to me.
This evening it was the latest dough experiment (1 part bread flour, 1 part whole wheat, 6-ish parts all purpose. Risen twice, and some of it just about thrice as it sat in a fridge for one and two days), and topped with escarole, first wilted and then done up with garlic and pepperoncini and onions and oil. A little more oil and sea salt on the dough before the escarole, and then - who can remember? - maybe more o&s. Maybe not. 7 minutes @ +500 F, crisp & chewy at the same time. Bitter / salty / a little sweet from the onion (and should I have added currants?). A liter cap bottle of Grüner V. to say howdy. A little chocolate afterward. It started raining while I was eating on the patio and I just stayed out there. Think I'm gonna have another leetle cigar.
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