Are Americans getting more mature about their pizza? Waaah!

​Last week, after my “Is it pizza?” exploration from the world of laminated pastry dough, I expected an onslaught of “Not a pizza!“
 
Quick recap: King Arthur's "Recipe of the Year" was a pizza made with a dough much like that for a croissant. Repeatedly rolled thin and layered with butter, the result is a flaky, croissant-like crust. I asked, "Is it pizza?"

I penned a screed accordingly and invited you to respond with a full-blown essay for extra credit, but a simple positive or negative was sufficient. I was expecting a hailstorm of "Not!"

But I received only one such reply.
 
And that enthusiastic negation came from an anonymous source whose email handle is ZinRedHead.
 
I have to admit to taking some joy in this. It feels more silly than serious. Thanks for playing, ZinRedHead.

 
Being a fancier of the big, bold, loudmouth Zinfandels of Napa Valley, I respect the pleasure with which ZinRedHead's commentary spills onto the page.
 
My wine tastes have evolved and expanded since those salad days of Zinfandel exclusivity. (I found it a good value in potent drinkables with a character that was brash and bold as befit my life on the edge while living fast without dying young in Los Angeles.)
 
And while I can point to so many wine events (and becoming friendly with vintners) that revealed horizons beyond fabled, old-vine fruit, I’d be lying if I didn’t admit that the film Sideways, with Paul Giamatti and Virginia Madsen, wasn’t also partly responsible.

Their famous dialogue about pinot noir and winemaking sells the wicked romance of oenophilia--not to mention that it was responsible for creating a massive and wild national market for pinot noir overnight.

And as a bonus, I happen to know the guy who played the naked tow truck driver. IYKYK.
 
Nonetheless, pinot noir aside, I still have a soft spot in my heart for a bad boy Zin. You never forget your first love. And just as with pizza, I'm also not a snob. You're serving wine from a box? Cheers! (Francis Ford Coppola puts some of his wine in cans. Portability, ya know.)
 
 
Among the “Is it pizza?” replies, there was a fair amount of “Interesting.“

Several folks would be willing to consider it a pizza, but had not made a determination.
 
Bart, who does not consider himself a pizza connoiseur, says “Being an open-minded and ‘live and let live’ sort of person, I’d have to say yes, it’s pizza. If just about anything above the crust is okay to make a pizza, why can’t sub-ingredient variations also qualify?”

So, he thinks it's a pizza. Maybe he wants me to make it for him and see how he feels about it. (Bart knows where I live. He often gets surplus pizza over the fence, so to speak.)
 
 
And the best response, as always, comes from north of the border.
 
Neil from Canada, who is clearly a renaissance man, opines at length on whether it’s a pizza. He says in part:

I think it depends on how you define “pizza” (and I am not prepared to go down the rabbit hole of what constitutes *authenticity*). I’ve developed my own reference point over the years, but I’m not going to get angry if something doesn’t align with it.
 
I think the King Arthur recipe belongs to the broad category of things called “pizza,” since it involves tomato sauce, cheese, and other related toppings. I’m thinking of pizza pockets, pizza enchiladas (which popped up in my feed yesterday!), pizza tacos, and so on. I recently discovered pizza toast—a specialty of Japanese cafés—made with a thick slice of Shokupan and typical pizza toppings.  [For the uninitiated, Shokupan is also known as “Japanese milk bread.” It’s made with a roux, which “results in a soft, bouncy texture that stays fresh for days.” Thanks, AI!]
 
That said, I’m not sure I want tomato sauce, cheese, pepperoni, and oregano on a flaky puff crust. To my taste, puff pastry—like pâte brisée [see also: Martha Stewart’s “All-Butter Pie Dough”]—is better suited for savory or sweet tarts. Again, that’s just my reference point. 
 
The bottom line: it scratches an itch I don’t have.
 

The man knows his baked goods. And Neil's last line there really is the kicker.


“It scratches an itch I don’t have.”
 
Neil knows what laminated dough is—it’s the stuff of croissants.
 
He knows what pizza is—it’s the other staff of life.
 
And he knows what he enjoys—but puff pastry pizza is not going to be on his list.
 
I get it.
 
 
Before even reading Neil’s mindful and un-cranky missive, I had gotten a little cranky.

​I had placed the puff pizza recipe in the category of “Pizza Like Objects.”
 
This is a category of my invention. It covers items related to pizza and attempting to scratch the pizza itch in a pinch.
 
Most of the time, they fall short.

Example: A multi-grain Wasa cracker with pizza sauce and mozzarella in the microwave for 15 seconds. Sprinkle with dried oregano. 

Not a pizza. 
 
But since it doesn't attempt to identify as pizza, I don’t feel compelled to question its veracity.
 
 
Similarly, I can appreciate how a cheesesteak taco tastes great without being a cheesesteak.
 
And I bet the puff pastry pizza can taste great without actually being a pizza.
 
After all, it's in the name: Puff pastry admits it is “pastry.”
 
It is technically not bread (or pizza crust) any more than it’s a pie crust—even though the world is overrun with nefarious restaurant menus trying to convince me there's pot pie on the menu, when a quick query to the server reveals it’s just a bowl of chicken stew with a puff pastry slapped on top. 

Stop the madness!
 
 
Sorry. Not a pot pie either.
 
Puff pastry does not a pot pie nor a pizza make. 
 
Does that invalidate the recipe?
 
Not if you’re a grown-up.
 
And it feels like Americans are becoming more thoughtful in their willingness to avoid a food fight. (I’m going to bet the Canadians bypassed this mishigas long ago. They're not as unserious a people as us Yanks.)
 
Of course, it helps my optimism that I long ago stopped paying attention to the pizza social scene in which the pizza police rule.
 
The self-appointed loudmouth experts with their badges and their guns, blasting away at anything outside their narrow minded understanding of the lively landscape of pizza styles.


They are tiresome, tyrannical, and sometimes psychotic.
 
That might sound extreme.

But I’ve been subject to pizza trolling that shocked even me for its revolting and desperate stench of depravity.

And that's saying something.

I used to work in both film production and rock & roll.
 
 
The fact that all our pizzas (or not-pizzas) these days seem able to get along is a welcome change.
 
I’ve been counting on that newfound openness for my forthcoming book, which is a kind of a redefinition of sorts for people who want to make pizza without the fuss.
 
For people who are willing to bend a little in how they understand pizza, an easy, no-mess homemade pizza process is available.
 
I think I’m also about to do the same for those who are economically challenged enough that they have to forgo pizza in the family dining budget.

Affordable homemade artisan pizza. 
 
I think I can give them a free recipe with which, for just a few bucks, they can feed a pizza to a family of four, recognize it as pizza, and be glad they had it. And it should look like this...

ABOVE: A grandma pie sheet-pan pizza that should feed a hungry family with almost three pounds of pizza for about 8 bucks. 


In my experience, most easy pizza recipes don’t do that.
 
The resulting pizza might fill the hole, but it doesn't fill the heart.
 
See also: an entire package of yeast in a bowl of flour and water that’s “dough in an hour!”
 
The pizzamaker behind that quick recipe just isn’t trying hard enough and probably doesn't even understand why I'd say that.

And there's no reason a smart mom or dad in the kitchen can't muster the patience to create a great tasting pizza from fermented dough with very little effort beyond making dough a day ahead. 

Seems simple enough to me. 
 
 
If I sound like I’m on a mission, maybe I am.
 
In a time of endless zeitgeist madness and financial stress, there’s so much potential for simple joy available from homegrown efforts.

Not enough is being done to make this simple craft readily available.
 
OK, I guess it's a mission. More on that next time…
 
And by the way, to everyone who last week wished me a speedy recovery from the flu, thank you. It worked out just fine. <COUGH!>

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