snapshot: spicy clam and garlic pizza

the first time i had

clam pizza, i was in high school

and for a reason

that escapes me,

i went with my family to lunch

(on a weekday, i think...

i know that i was wearing shorts,

so it must have been summer. and,

i also remember that a few minutes

after we returned home,

my (older!) (ok, 1 1/2 years older)

ex-boyfriend from summer camp

(who was already an ex-boyfriend

and lived an hour away),

pulled up unexpectedly in his car (his car!)

and i could not decide if i wanted

to run away or skip in his direction.

and, i remember wishing that

i didn't just eat clam pizza).

the circumstances

are somewhat foggy

but that pizza is not:

a bit doughy, but still crisp

on the bottom and the edges,

it was clam-heavy,

slightly spicy and full of garlic.

it was so good, that i can taste

it right now.

the restaurant is long gone,

but thankfully, several years

ago, when i wasn't thinking

about the pizza, i came across a recipe

on epicurious* and knew that i had to

make it. clam pizza is in the rotation,

which in this house means that i make

it about once a year, and never regret it.

and, like all my favorites, at this point,

i don't measure a thing. instead,

using floured hands, i stretch out out dough

(my favorite recipe**, or if i'm in a pinch,

prepared fresh dough), to fit as squarely

as possible in a rectangular rimmed baking

sheet that i've coated with cooking spray

or a mist of olive oil.

once the flat dough

has been covered with a towel

and given a 20-minute rest,

i sprinkle it with

6 large cloves chopped garlic,

and press lightly to adhere.

next, i top with

2 cans chopped clams, drained well,

a handful or two of grated parm,

a healthy sprinkling of red pepper flakes

and a couple drizzles of olive oil.

sometimes i add oregano.

then, i pop the pan into a 425˚f oven,

for 12-16 minutes,

or until the bottom is golden brown.

i pull out the garlicky pie,

transfer it to a cutting board and

cut into squares.

every time, it reminds me of my

first clam pizza. and summer.

and when i still wore

shorts. but, usually, not

what's-his-name.

*original recipe here.

**for this pizza, i leave out the rosemary in the dough.

fig and balsamic onion pizza with blue cheese

i can't believe i haven't

told you about this recipe yet.

it's not that i make it a lot -

maybe just twice a year.

but still, it's one of the few

dishes set to repeat in

our kitchen.

it started about five years ago

when - and, i still am embarrassed

to admit this - i learned

that i could just go to the

supermarket or the local pizza place

and buy fresh dough.

how did i not know this?

i have no idea.

i told lauren, who said,

yes, i love it, i use it to

make strombolis and calzones.

hmmm, i had definitely missed

something important.

so i bought dough.

i found this recipe and together,

larry and i roasted squash,

made garlic oil

and decorated the prized dough.

the night felt like a victory -

i was proud

(better than clueless, right?).

so proud,

that i haven't made the recipe

since, but i remember most

of the moments that went down

in the kitchen of my

studio apartment that evening.

after that, i was hooked,

throwing every veggie

i had onto pieces of dough

that were so unevenly rolled

out, a circle wouldn't even

recognize them as its cousin.

i experimented with

chicken apple sausage and rosemary,

feta, spinach and tomatoes,

mixed mushrooms with goat cheese

and so many more.

but one of the only pizzas

to stick was the one i made with

fresh figs

caramelized onions

and blue cheese.

however, i'm not going to lie to you:

i have no idea how it

came to be.

for all my remembering, i cannot

think back to why i first made it,

if any mistakes were made

or what pushed me to make this

particular pizza again.

but i do know that the recipe was mine,

created by what was in my kitchen,

because the second

time around, it did not occur to

me to check my recipe book.

and, i do remember that after

i had made it a few times,

i told a friend

who texted me late one night

to say that she had made the

pizza and loved it (and i remember

that i was jealous because we had

spent the night hanging pictures

in our new apartment

and eating peanut butter

sandwiches for dinner - i knew

i was missing something good

at her house). but, i still don't

remember the beginning.

so, instead of dwelling on

the past, let me tell you about

this pizza. i've made it many

times on store bought fresh

pizza dough - i love it with

multi-grain - and a couple times

on dough that i've attempted

to make myself.

but until recently, i've never

had success making my own dough.

they were always too bready,

or not willing to stretch or roll

or so wet that i got fed up.

a recipe by giada in bon appetit

changed all that. her dough is simple

and its springy and beautiful.

so easy to roll that mine was actually round

and so easy to transport that on the

pizza pan, it was still beautiful.

her recipe called for mixing flour with

sugar and salt before adding the

yeast mixture, but i've opted to add honey

to the yeast instead. also, because

the final product is reminiscent of

focaccia, i love to add

chopped rosemary to the dough.

on top,

well, the star is the figs,

which i sometimes layer on fresh,

and other times saute very lightly first.

but a star needs its supporting characters

and this pizza is bursting with them:

onions that are caramelized until golden

and then coated with balsamic vinegar,

crumbled blue cheese to cut

through the sweetness and recently,

a light sprinkling of fontina cheese,

helping glue the whole thing down.

i've made the pizza a couple times

without the bottom cheese, but it's always

lacking and the toppings tend to

topple off the crust.

all together, it's a pizza that i'm

proud of, that gets me excited

for fig season and that makes

me happy to cut into slices

and serve. it's slightly sweet and

soft, yet tangy and crisp.

and even though its beginning

eludes me, its future on our

dinner menus is very, very clear.

fresh fig and balsamic onion pizza with blue cheese

i do not have a baking stone and therefore, have never made this pizza with one. if you do, adjust accordingly. because i make this pizza on a regular round baking pan, i like to slide it right onto the rack when it's firm enough and let the pie continue to cook until crispy. if that method does not sound good to you, just leave it on the pan. it may not get as crispy, but it will still be lovely. i like the creaminess of danish blue and the mild meltiness of the fontina, but playing around until you find your favorite is always a good idea.

rosemary pizza dough

adapted from bon appetit magazine

3/4 cup warm water (between 110˚-115˚)

1 envelope dry active yeast

1 teaspoon honey

2 cups all-purpose flour

3/4 teaspoon salt

1 tablespoon finely chopped rosemary

3 tablespoons olive oil, plus more for the bowl

place warm water in bowl; sprinkle yeast over water. add honey; stir. let stand 5 minutes, or until yeast dissolves. very lightly oil large bowl; set aside. in food processor, combine flour, salt and rosemary. add remaining 3 tablespoons olive oil and yeast mixture; process just until dough forms.

transfer to a floured surface and knead 1 minute, or until smooth, adding additional flour, if necessary. place dough in bowl, rotating to coat with oil.

cover with clean tea or kitchen towel and place in a warm spot, free of drafts. let sit 1 hour, or until doubled in volume. punch down. using a floured rolling pin, roll into 14" round on floured surface. transfer to pizza pan.

fig and onion pizza

2 teaspoons olive oil

1 tablespoon unsalted butter, divided

1 large sweet onion, peeled, halved and sliced

1 tablespoon balsamic vinegar

4-6 large fresh black mission figs, trimmed and sliced

1 recipe rosemary pizza dough, above

5 ounces fontina cheese, shredded

2 ounces blue cheese, crumbled

• 
  
• heat oven to 425˚f. while the dough is rising, heat olive oil and half of butter in large skillet over medium heat until oil is hot and butter is melted. add onions; season with kosher salt. cook 25 minutes, or until almost golden brown, reducing heat if onions begin to burn. drizzle balsamic vinegar over onions and stir to combine. cook 1 minute more, or until the vinegar has formed a glaze; transfer onions to plate. let cool.
• 
  
• in same skillet over medium heat, melt remaining butter; add slices of figs. as soon as the last one is in the skillet, flip slices over in the order they were placed in the pan. once they're all flipped, remove and transfer to plate in the same order.
• 
  
• sprinkle shredded fontina cheese over dough, leaving a 3/4" border for the crust. arrange first the onions, then the figs, over the cheese. Top with crumbled blue cheese.
• 
  
• bake the pizza 12-14 minutes, or until the cheese is melted, the crust is beginning to brown and the whole thing is stable. Slide the pizza off the pan and cook on the middle rack 3-4 minutes more, or until the crust has some crunch to it. to remove from oven, carefully slide back onto pan.

homemade pride

there are several things

that i have made,

simply because i'm

surprised

and

amazed

to find out that i can.

that's how the whole deal

with marshmallows began,

why i first made graham crackers,

and how i ran to the store late

one saturday night to get yeast,

determined to make english muffins

for sunday morning's breakfast.

and that was initially most of

my thought process with

ricotta cheese.

i can't even remember how long

ago it was that i learned

ricotta cheese could easily

be made at home.

and even though i printed out

a recipe and debated what i should

use it for,

i still held onto that piece of paper

for way too long.

last week i decided - no doubt

fueled by the success of

slow-roasted tomatoes -

that that was it,

no more excuses:

i was making ricotta.

--

larry reacted true to form.

first giving me that look,

letting me know that he thinks

i'm crazy.

next, he asked, very simply, why?

and after that didn't work,

he gave it a last ditch attempt,

reminding me that i could

buy it for a lot less work.

later, he asked what i was going to

do with it. when i said i didn't

yet know, but that wasn't the point,

he shrugged his shoulders and

dropped the subject,

no doubt clear in his defeat.

--

but because i'm never content

to just make it easy,

i searched for a different

recipe, wanting to guarantee

that i went with the right method.

i found this one,

then debated all afternoon.

it wasn't until i was in the store,

staring at all the milks

that i decided to stick to my guns

and go with my first recipe.

i owed it that much after

years waiting its turn

in the binder.

i made one change,

breaking a major rule of mine:

never ever change a recipe the

first time you make it.

make it the way it was intended first,

then feel free to play, tinker and add.

it's not that i don't adjust

here and there,

but when a recipe is fundamentally based

on very few ingredients,

it seems more than wrong

to mess with any

of them.

i never buy full-fat ricotta,

so, it seemed kind of weird for me

to make the cheese all fat at home.

i took a big leap, and bought

1% milk, knowing that if i didn't

have cheese at the end of the

experiment, i'd have no one

to blame but myself.

i also switched the heavy cream

for light cream, worried that i needed

extra fat that whole milk

just would not be able to provide.

in spite of these changes,

when i mixed together the

milk,

cream,

and salt,

in a pot, and brought them

to a boil, they boiled anyway

(not that there was really

any doubt about that part).

and after, i

added the lemon juice

called for,

plus just a smidge more,

i crossed my fingers

that the mixture would

in fact curdle.

at first, i thought the curds

were tiny, and that there

weren't enough.

i was sure that the whole

thing concoction would slip

through the cheesecloth

and all wind up in the bottom

of the bowl,

still liquid.

but a minute later, i experimented,

lifting up the spoon i was using to stir

and was pleasantly surprised to

see that it contained a good amount of cheese.

it was now or never.

i poured the mixture into

the cheesecloth-lined strainer,

eyes half closed and was very

happy to realize that there was quite

a lot of cheese in the bowl.

i tasted i small bit -

very hot

still wet -

but unmistakingly, ricotta.

even though this recipe had said to strain

the cheese for one hour,

the other one called for only 15 minutes.

i took a chance around 20

(after a quick straining test to make sure

it wasn't still dripping wet)

and spread it onto the

whole grain pizza dough i had just grilled.

then, i topped it with the

heirloom bruschetta i had stirred together

while the cheese was draining.

and i was so glad for that.

you see - i like ricotta.

i can appreciate the creamy texture

and the smoothness it lends

to a dish. i can get behind the

hard to beat clean cheese flavor.

but, i can't help to find ricotta

a little bit bland.

i rarely use it without

spicing the whole mixture

up with

garlic

lemon

salt

pepper

and more.

this time, i wanted to enjoy

it for the simple ingredient

it was. i added nothing to it,

but on top, was a different story.

the balsamic, basil and red onion-spiked

bruschetta over the crispy smoky crust,

encouraged the cheese to taste like

the most complex of

ingredients.

the next night,

i scooped a spoonful of the

significantly dryer ricotta

into a bowl,

sprinkled it with ground cinnamon,

drizzled everything with honey

and tossed a handful of blueberries

on top.

it was a lovely treat -

creamy and indulgent,

gently spiced and

not too sweet.

but thanks to the summer fruit,

extremely fresh.

oddly,

i've waited years to

make ricotta, never actually

discussing it with anyone,

but just days after this batch

was made, my friend colleen

wrote about her experience

making ricotta that very

weekend. it's not such a

surprise - in the past

we've made garlic scapes

at the same time and

this past weekend for my

birthday, she whipped up a

batch of peach cupcakes that i

had my eye on to bake.

but to me, the best part was

that she had made the other

recipe, so i now have proof

that both work.

obviously, if you're in a hurry,

i cannot dispute that it's easier

to buy a container

from the store.

but if you have even

the tiniest

bit of time,

it's worth it to make

ricotta at home.

the only reason

this actually takes

a few extra minutes

is because you have to

wait for the mixture to come

to a boil.

after that, it's fast,

smooth sailing -

the equivilant of making pasta.

seriously.

don't wait as long as i did.

homemade ricotta cheese

adapted from gourmet magazine

the original recipe called for whole milk and heavy cream, which i'm sure would have been delicious. i made this with 1% milk and light cream. on the first night, it was lovely. the second night it was still good, but much dryer. the original recipe called to let the mixture drain for 1 hour. i was very happy with the texture after 20 minutes of draining - so i used it then. if you prefer a less wet ricotta, let it strain longer.

1/2 gallon 1% milk

1 cup light cream

1/2 teaspoon salt

3 generous tablespoons fresh lemon juice

line a large sieve with cheesecloth (i gave it four layers); place over a large bowl and set aside.

in large heavy saucepot over medium heat, bring milk, cream and salt to a rolling boil, stirring occasionally to prevent scorching.

add lemon juice; reduce heat to low and cook 2 minutes, or until the mixture curdles, stirring constantly. gently pour mixture into sieve. let drain 20 minutes to 1 hour.

cover and chill in fridge. keeps for up to two days.