Bon Appétit’s September cover recipe is homemade pizza with “grandma style pizza crust”.  I don’t know about your grandma, but my Slovak Nana never made pizza dough.  Pierogis, halupki, layered jello, and a mean pot roast, yes.  Pizza dough, no.  I think what constitutes this pizza dough as “grandma style” is the fact that you have to be patient, like a grandma, and wait a seemingly endless 24 hours for it to cold-ferment and rise in the fridge, then another 40-60 minutes for it to be stretchable and rise again in the pan, and finally 20 minutes of bake time in the oven.  Once it’s finished, however?  It’s damn good pizza.  A healthy layer of olive oil on the sheet pan lends a golden buttery brown crunch on the sides and bottom, and the crust with nooks and crannies is like a springy sponge.  We liked it.  A lot.

I have to be honest; I’ve never ever had success with homemade pizza dough.  I am dough phobic.  I mean, I can remember ruining ‘out of the box’ Jiffy pizza dough mix in college at age 20 with fellow instructor, Jason Keck, after teaching ski school all day.  It was a sticky gooey mess that got all over everything and never actually formed into the “smooth, elastic” desired pizza dough as printed on the box.  Keck and I eventually ended up in giggling fits all the way to Bilbo’s pizza, scraping dried dough from our hands as we drove.  I’ve tried and failed a few more times in my 30’s and eventually succumbed to buying my pizza dough from Whole Foods, which has yet to disappoint.

Of course, the biggest p.i.a. of making any type of dough is kneading it.  Because I’m pregnant, old, and tired (and I hate kneading dough) I decided to let the dough hook of my stand-mixer do all the work, right?  I mean, what are these machines for if not doing the work your grandma had to do by hand?  (In case you hadn’t noticed, I was already going rogue with BA’s recipe.  It’s really no wonder dough never works for me.)  I knew I didn’t want a repeat of Jiffy mix pizza dough debacle, circa 1994, but I opted for the dough hook anyway.  I decided to let the yeast and warm water bubble up, then dump it into my mixing bowl with the olive oil, salt and flour and let the machine go to work.  I put the machine on medium and used the dough hook for 5 minutes until the dough looked super smooth and shiny, just like the instructions said it should look!  My attempt to pick up the dough, however, dashed any hopes of success and quickly gave me Jiffy mix flashbacks…  It was sticky, gooey and runny.  I apologize for the horrible out of focus below photo but I think I had dough in my eyes.

I realized what I should have realized back in the day – you must put your hands on the dough and work it.  I ended up adding maybe 6-8 big (4-fingered) pinches (one at a time) of flour to help it adhere together while I was kneading it, and eventually I ended up with a “soft, smooth, and elastic” dough BA says you should have in the end.  Now comes the waiting part… 24 hours in the fridge and you can begin again with said dough.

It didn’t rise much, like I thought it would have at least doubled but mine just kind of puffed up a bit, maybe half a size larger from when I first placed it in the fridge.

Next step is to pour 1/2 a cup of olive oil onto a 18×13″ baking sheet.  Does 1/2 a cup seem excessive to you?  Me too.  I was seriously having my doubts with the only slightly risen dough and overall recipe at this point.  The dough was literally swimming on top of Lake Olive Oil.  I was unable to stretch the dough to the corners because the oil had pooled in them.

I ended up scooping tablespoons of olive oil out of the pan so I could stretch the dough to the corners without an overflowing oil slick.  I scooped maybe 1/8 of a cup’s worth, so adjust accordingly.  Cover with plastic wrap and place in a warm (not above 70 degrees) spot and let rise for 40 more minutes.

At this point in the recipe, use the 40 minutes of rising time to make sauce and chop toppings.

Purée together a can of San Marzano’s, 2 anchovy fillets, 2 cloves of garlic, a fistful of basil leaves and 6 tablespoons of olive oil.  I thought about using the oil I siphoned from the pizza pan but I had already dumped it in the sink.  Wiz up the ingredients and taste – adding salt and pepper if necessary – and your sauce is ready.  I have to admit, this was my first time ever using anchovies.  The sauce was a little sweet, a little salty, and there was something about it (anchovies) that you couldn’t quite put your finger on… kind of like worcestershire on your burgers.  The little filets gave it that extra oomph, you know?

Next step, load the toppings onto the pizza.

Meats, (pancetta and soppressata) shredded cheese, then BA says to put sauce on last (gasp!).  Saucing last went against every pizza fiber in my being, but I complied.  I dolloped spoonfuls of sauce all over the pizza, praying that at hour 26 in this process that I wasn’t ruining all my hard work.

Crank your oven to 525 and let the pizza go for 20-30 minutes.  Once finished, the pie was golden brown on the top, bottom and sides (thanks olive oil!), and The Hubs couldn’t wait to sink his teeth into it.  I had to finish the pizza with a few more items.  Fresh sliced tomatoes, dots of ricotta, and torn basil on The Hub’s side.  Ricotta dots with spicy arugula on my side.  I have to say, it turned out like a masterpiece!!!  Browned and crispy, warm toppings mixing with cold, DEEELISH!!!!  This pizza reminded me of Buddy’s square pizza back home in Detroit.  Only better.  Sorry for doubting you, BA!!

Grandma’s Pizza

Prep time: 25 hours
Cook time: 20-30 minutes(ish)
Makes: 1 18×13″ pan pizza

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