Arugula-Almond Pesto Pizza

Gary went back to the university in late January after his sabbatical ended, but the Gary who returned to teaching is not quite the same Gary who left in the fall, and I mean this as the highest praise. He came home from his first week of the new semester talking about his students in a way he hadn't in years — specific students, specific conversations, something a first-year had said in seminar that was genuinely interesting. Not the professional performance of interest, but the real thing. The sabbatical gave something back to him that the work itself had been slowly consuming without his noticing.

He has also, since the sabbatical, been cooking more. Not every day — that's not his nature and I would not want it to be, because a shared kitchen requires negotiation — but three or four times a week he produces something. Usually bread, which has become his domain with a thoroughness I did not predict: he's on his seventh sourdough formula and keeps notes on each one with the precision of a researcher. Sometimes he makes the pasta we learned together, now with his own variations he doesn't tell me about in advance. Last week he made a pot of bean soup that was, honestly, extremely good and which he served with a quiet satisfaction that reminded me of the pleasure of feeding someone something you made with your own hands.

I'm writing about this in the book — not about Gary specifically, but about the way cooking travels through families and partnerships, the way it migrates, the way what you practice in proximity to someone transfers without formal instruction. I never taught Gary to love cooking. I just cooked, for thirty years, in the same kitchen with him, and at some point it became his too. This seems important. It seems like one of the things I want the book to say.

February now, the tail end of winter. The seed catalogs have arrived. I've been studying the tomato pages with the hunger of someone who has not tasted a good garden tomato in five months. Spring is theoretical still but the seed catalog makes it actual. Planning is a form of hope. I order the tomato seeds tonight.

With the seed catalogs spread across the kitchen table and tomatoes still five months away, I found myself reaching for something green and alive anyway — something that tasted like a promise. This arugula-almond pesto pizza has become exactly that kind of recipe in our house: fast enough for a Tuesday, interesting enough to deserve the quiet satisfaction Gary has been wearing lately when he sets a plate down. The peppery bite of the arugula and the nuttiness of the almonds feel like the right flavors for this in-between season — not quite winter, not yet spring, but leaning hard toward the light.

Prep Time: 20 min | Cook Time: 12 min | Total Time: 32 min | Servings: 4

Ingredients

1 lb store-bought or homemade pizza dough, at room temperature
3 cups fresh arugula, loosely packed (plus a small handful reserved for topping)
1/3 cup raw almonds, toasted
2 cloves garlic
1/2 cup freshly grated Parmesan, divided
1/4 cup extra-virgin olive oil, plus more for drizzling
1 tablespoon fresh lemon juice
1/4 teaspoon kosher salt, or to taste
1/4 teaspoon crushed red pepper flakes
6 oz fresh mozzarella, torn into pieces
Lemon zest, for finishing

Instructions

Preheat. Place a pizza stone or heavy baking sheet on the middle rack of your oven and preheat to 500°F (or as high as your oven will go) for at least 30 minutes. This ensures a crisp crust.
Make the pesto. Combine the 3 cups arugula, toasted almonds, garlic, 1/4 cup Parmesan, lemon juice, salt, and red pepper flakes in a food processor. Pulse several times to break everything down, then stream in the olive oil with the motor running and process until you have a rough, slightly chunky pesto. Taste and adjust salt and lemon as needed.
Shape the dough. On a lightly floured surface, stretch or roll the pizza dough into a 12–14 inch round (or a rough rectangle — rustic is fine). Transfer to a piece of parchment paper.
Assemble. Spread the arugula-almond pesto evenly over the dough, leaving a 3/4-inch border. Scatter the torn mozzarella across the top and finish with the remaining 1/4 cup Parmesan.
Bake. Slide the pizza (on the parchment) onto the hot stone or baking sheet. Bake for 10–12 minutes, until the crust is golden and blistered at the edges and the cheese is melted and lightly browned in spots.
Finish and serve. Remove from the oven and immediately top with the reserved fresh arugula, a drizzle of olive oil, and a pinch of lemon zest. Slice and serve right away.

Nutrition (per serving)

Arugula-Almond Pesto Pizza — What the Garden Teaches You While You Wait