The Midweek Modernist Pizza Report: From jamming it in a can to saucing it up, hello tomato (and beyond)! Part 2

The Ongoing Modernist Pizza Review, Volume 2, Chapter 8, "Sauce," Part II

Modernist Pizza
Written by Nathan Myhrvold and Francisco Migoya
Published by The Cooking Lab; First edition, October 19, 2021
Hardcover: ‎ 1708 pages, 32.7 pounds, 13.78 x 10.24 x 15.94 inches
​​List Price: $425.00
​Amazon discount price as of 03/08/23: $294.99

Now, about those canned tomatoes. Unsurprisingly, some strains of tomato have been developed to withstand the rigors of machine picking for canning. Says Modernist Pizza, “The thicker the flesh, the fewer seeds a tomato will have, and the seeds, along the jellylike membrane that envelops the seeds (called the parenchyma), are where the flavor resides.” Yay, parenchyma!
 
There’s also a comprehensive discussion of how tomatoes are canned. What’s good is tomatoes bred for processing are harvested at the full-ripe stage, which is their most flavorful. Less good is that some processors adjust flavor with additives, like sugar, salt or citric acid. The Modernistas prefer tomatoes without the additives. 

​And did you know that tomatoes used in purées, sauces and pastes are not typically peeled whole? Who knew?! Or even cared, but it’s here. And at some point, it matters. There’s all kinds of tomato trivia here that’s really interesting, yet is unlikely to make great water cooler conversation. But hey, if you’re reading Modernist Pizza, you already know you’re a geek with limited water-cooler appeal.
 
Important note: pizzaioli even in Naples (where freshness rules) prefer canned whole tomatoes. There are several reasons. Consistency and quality are chief among them. Tomato maturity is key to its quality, even more so than the variety of tomato, and canning is part of preserving that. Flavor, texture, pH, viscosity—so many factors are affected by when the tomato is picked.
 
“Are nightshades really bad for you?” Yes, that’s a section here. When I was a little kid, I used to be fascinated by the idea that a) there was a plant called Deadly Nightshade, and b) people used to think tomatoes were poisonous. Little did I know that the nightshade family would be such a part of my life, and that my favorite vegetable was part of that family. That’s the main reason I find this tiny little section of the book so fascinating. And I’m a lousy enough a botany student that I didn’t realize that the nightshade family also includes potatoes.
 
Alas, the nightshade question remains open. The text dances around the answer to whether they’re really bad for you. We assume the answer is no, they’re not bad for you. But instead of a direct answer, they avoid answering by way of mentioning the benefits of a varied diet of fruits and vegetables. (Wait. What?)
 
Now, about that tomato canning process... Temperature control in canning is important. There are two types of canning: cold break processing and hot break processing. Each affects the tomato differently. The former works well for Neapolitan-style tomatoes, “Which is aiming for that fresh tomato flavor.” The latter process results in a thicker product with a deeper color. (Based on color alone, I now wonder if the New Jersey tomatoes I’ve been using for New York-style pizza come from this more common process.) And the bonus in this section is a photographic flow chart of how tomatoes are canned. Whee!
 
Revelation: Did you ever wonder why there are diced tomatoes? Guess what: It’s so you can see the shape! “If you don’t care about the shape, use crushed tomatoes.” Well, there ya go. Also, crushed and ground tomatoes are essentially the same thing. Tomato purée is a much different product, and has been cooked further after the seeds and peels are removed, and the product is strained. Purée is often the base of the sauce for some pizzaioli. We also learn about how paste and sauce are made, with the latter resulting in a wide variety of products.
 
The section called “Our Favorite Canned Tomatoes” might be unsurprising. Three of the six faves are San Marzanos. Another favorite is Bianco DiNapoli, a product developed by Chris Bianco of Pizzeria Bianco in partnership with Rob DiNapoli. (OPINIONATED SIDEBAR: Rob DiNapoli is a California tomato processor whose grandfather started in the tomato canning business in 1939, and their tomatoes are quite good.) The two additional favorites of the Modernistas are a brand of Italian pomodorini (small tomatoes), which are enormously expensive. (Online, I found a jar just under 2 pounds for $25.00. I want to try them, just on someone else’s dime.)
 
There’s the tale of Tillie Lewis, who is recognized as the Queen of Italian Tomatoes. Hers is a typically American rags to riches story about popularizing the “lowly canned tomato” on the American culinary landscape in the 1930s. A Jewish girl from Brooklyn meets an Italian tomato canner and makes good in California growing tomatoes from Italian seeds.
 
There’s a table for common can sizes, so you can scale your sauce production without having leftovers. (That’s probably more important if you’re serving 300 pizzas a night.) Also, there’s a helpful tip on “Solving The Marinara Sauce Dilemma,” so you don’t end up with a soupy pizza, which is a common problem. We even get tips for putting “Raw Tomatoes On Pizza” in an effort to avoid a wet pizza with a gel layer.
 
And finally, there’s a “Parametric Recipe” for a tomato sauce from canned tomatoes. It’s presented with options for crushing the tomatoes by hand, or using a food mill, or (my personal go-to) an immersion blender.
 
Next up: the seven sauces! This table of sauce formulae is followed by the procedure for making each of them. And this leads into a veritable sauce festival, beginning with tomatoes (more than a dozen styles with variations), including sauces that are roasted and fermented. There’s also a table of 18 different ways for “Improving Tomato Sauce” with ingredients ranging from sweet to savory to umami. (I admit, while the anchovy paste is unsurprising, I never considered adding A.1. Steak Sauce to pizza sauce.) There’s a fantastic high-speed photograph of a Roma tomato exploding pizza sauce. And there’s a vast table of “Mix-And-Match Tomato Sauce,” detailing the flavor profiles of various tomatoes and how to process and combine them.
 
From there, the move on to pesto. “The combinations of herbs, nuts, and oil that you can blend together are virtually endless.” There’s a table of seven different pesto sauces and the required ingredients. There are instructions for not only how to make a pesto in a food processor, but how to stabilize a pesto to keep the oil from separating.
 
In the pizza porn department, there’s yet another full-page, drool-worthy photo of a pizza--this one a marinara sbagliata. It's made with a San Marzano sauce and an oregano pesto. I now feel an overpowering need to make this pizza myself, as I doubt that anybody here in town (or anywhere in the United States) is going to make it for me.
 
“Thickening Sauces” explains not only how but why. There are, of course, vibrant photos of what to look for. In case you ever wondered how to measure your sauce viscosity, there are tips on how to use a Bostwick Consistometer. (Really.)
 
And then, the fun begins… Stay tuned for everything from an alternative bechamel to immersion blender hollandaise, and (yes) sabayon.
 
If the idea of owning a copy of Modernist Pizza attracts you like a moth to the candle flame, you can find it here. If you want a skinnier, simpler, sillier book that teaches only one kind of pizza, you can find Free The Pizza! here.