Don’t you just hate yourself when you realize later there was a simple solution to a problem that seemed insurmountable at the time? One of those moments came over the Christmas weekend when we were in Calgary and I was, in the absence of anything better to watch, tuned in to The Food Network.
The problem arose last summer when our sons and their families were home for a visit. My wife and daughters-in-law organized the dinner and I had one job, to cook the pizza. I chose to use the barbecue so we didn’t have to heat up the house with the oven. Pizza stone in place on the grill, I lit the barbecue early to let it get nice and hot.
The first piece of dough was pressed into shape on a wooden cutting board and I knew immediately that this was going to be a challenge. The dough was really soft and I had an awful time transferring the loaded pie on to my pizza peel, a flat, shovel-like apparatus with a wooden handle. The soft dough wanted to stick to the board, despite the cornmeal that had been sprinkled on it. When the pizza was finally maneuvered on to the peel, its original round shape now more reminiscent of a Rorschach blot, the next question was, “Will it slide off the peel and onto the now blistering hot stone?”
The quick answer was no. The toppings slid first, messing up the stone and the results were definitely not what I was looking for. With a group of hungry people waiting to eat, I issued instructions that the next pies should be made on pizza pans that were turned upside-down. Then I placed the pies on the stone, one at a time, and closed the lid for a few minutes, until the dough began to bake and firmed up. At that point I was able to slide the pie off the pan and directly onto the stone, which resulted in the nicely crisp crust I was expecting from a very hot oven and the direct contact of dough with stone.
Fast forward to the cooking show and there is the chef, deftly pushing and stretching dough into shape, not on a cutting board or a pizza pan or even right on the peel. No, he’s using parchment paper. It was one of those Homer Simpson “d’oh” moments that make you want to smack yourself on the forehead. Why aren’t the simple answers the ones that come to mind in times of need?
So there I was last week, waiting for company to arrive at any moment, pressing out rounds of homemade dough onto squares of parchment paper. On the first, I spread a sauce I had made with tomato paste, water, honey and spices, then scattered on pieces of artichoke hearts along with sliced mushrooms and red peppers. I had cut rounds of fresh mozzarella into cubes, which then were dotted liberally on the pie, along with a generous sprinkling of Parmesano Reggiano. Naturally, it eased smoothly onto the peel and released just as easily onto the stone, nice and hot in an oven pre-heated to 450 degrees. The delicious smell of cooking pizza greeted our guests when they arrived a few moments later.
I made a second pie with the same ingredients, adding thin slices of spicy capicola and black olives, and then a third with only the cheese. When the third came out of the oven I sprinkled on a couple of tablespoons of pickled capers and then topped it with smoked salmon slices.
We settled in at the table and loaded our plates with perfectly browned pizza slices and a simple salad. Our glasses were charged with Syrah from Coeur d’Alene Cellars and we clinked to toast the coming year. I added a silent thanks to the chef who reminded me that parchment paper is a cook’s best friend, and the simple solution to a vexing problem.
Lorne Eckersley is the publisher of the Creston Valley Advance.
