Consider this not an exhortation, but gentle encouragement: you’ll find more joy in making homemade pizza when using a scale.

​I haven’t offered a simple kitchen tip in a while, so here it comes. Get ready for the ensuing mayhem.
 
If you’ve spent any time around here, you’ve heard me say it: Scales are not necessary for making pizza. I’ve said as much to pizza pros, who instantly label me a scoffer and a misanthropist. So be it.
 
Among American home cooks, there’s a clear and resonant hatred of the dreaded kitchen scale. I have a theory for why this is. It’s related to a less-than-stellar education system.

Many of us have painful memories of a high-school science class that involved weighing things on a precision laboratory balance. And especially if it involved an actual, literal, mechanical balance with free weights instead of an electronic digital scale, there are grinding and oppressive recollections associated with this class, the lab partner in this class, the grades in this class, the metric system used in this class, and mostly, the smell of this class.
 
The kitchen scale is forever linked to the stink and loathing of science taught badly.
 
Well, let that go. There is now pizza involved. Yay, pizza!
 
Hot oregano and semolina smell so much better than science class.
 
Science classroom hell aside, my belief is this: for newbie pizzamakers, the scale is positioned as The Wrong Answer to a newbie question unasked.
 
That question is not, Did I weigh my ingredients? That question is, Does this dough feel right?
 
A good dough should be supple, barely tacky, and satisfying to look at.
 
If that dough ball you’ve just made strikes you as vaguely erotic, that’s a little weird—but it probably means you’ve done the job well.
 
Getting to the place of feeling homemade pizza dough perfection does not come from simply weighing ingredients.
 
One arrives at that place by knowing what a dough should feel like.
 
Yet the newbie can be lulled into a sense of complacent acceptance by believing that since the ingredients have been measured correctly, that’s all it takes.
 
That represents my standard, stated case for beginning a life of homemade pizza making without a scale.
 
Here now, in apparent contradiction to that standard, stated case, the reason why I recommend having a scale, and setting that scale to “Heresy.”
 
When using a scale, the job of measuring ingredients for dough does become easier.
 
You’re less likely to have to worry about making adjustments to the dough in an effort to accomplish that erotic suppleness you crave.
 
Weighing ingredients takes away some of the guess work.
 
So there’s the case for using the scale.

Here now, the case for the heretical units of measure.
 
Weighing ingredients in grams is faster and easier.
 
I admit, I’m awful at math. And I can’t tell you how many times I’ve screwed up a dough (albeit temporarily) by miscalculating in my head the required number of ounces from cups.
 
When weighing ingredients on a digital scale using grams instead pounds and ounces, it becomes streamlined.
 
Ostensibly, the US system of measurement is a “pure” system based on natural constants.
 
The method I use is based on a natural, digital constant, namely the number of digits I possess upon each hand.
 
For a guy who counts on his fingers, metric measurement in the kitchen is just simpler.
 
Using grams, it’s easier to compare quantities and determine ratios at a glance.
 
Reading a scale showing 500 grams of flour is far cleaner than the scale showing 1 lb 1.6 oz.
 
Yes, 17.6 ounces is an easy conversion to make—but do enough of those simple calculations in your head during a session, and the margin for error increases.
 
When I’m measuring flour by volume, I have a system that offers the finest in seat-of-the-pants precision.
 
I plunge a one-cup measuring vessel into the sack of flour, pull it out at a slight angle, give it a little shake, and eyeball it to determine the angle of the scooped flour relative to the edge of the cup, as well as the appearance of the surface texture of the flour, to determine whether it’s probably an actual one-cup measure.
 
Precision!
 
Yes, calling this method "inexact" is kind.
 
What makes it work is the fact that once everything is mixed together, I can tell pretty quickly what adjustments must be made to the flour or water.
 
(And these things are also impacted by environmental conditions in the moment, which is why a scale is not the panacea that so many pretend it is.)
 
I’ve owned many scales.

I keep a big Polder analog kitchen scale on top of my fridge because it's iconic looking, it's symbolic, and it just looks cool. (It's the actual scale in the photo at the top, along with one of my actual pizzas.)
 
I bought that scale years ago because I’d had marginal luck with some fairly expensive electronic digital scales.
 
But lately, I’ve been using the cheapest Amazon Basics scale for the bulk quantities. And for the tiny measures, I’ve been using a cheap scale that the review trolls on Amazon affectionately refer to as a “drug dealer” scale. (If you’d like to see them, both scales are on www.FreeThePizza.com in the “Tools” section.)
 
Anyway, a scale will not set you free until it does. That’s the kitchen tip o’ the day. Enjoy it in your pizza-making weekend!

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If you’re still thinking about starting your pizza journey, one good place to do so is inside Free The Pizza. Really, it’s A Simple System For Making Great Pizza Whenever You Want With The Oven You Already Have. It’s a manual that takes you from zero to pizza with a few laughs along the way. Also, if you buy a hard copy, I'll send you an autographed book plate. If you buy the Kindle edition, know that there are printable cheat sheets on this website so you can take them into the kitchen and spill red sauce all over them. ​