Homemade Cheese Pizza — The Kitchen Is Where the Living Happens

The Damiano Center crowd has shifted. Gerald is still there, the soup steady. New faces too — younger, more women, more children. The need does not decrease. The need shape-shifts. The soup does not stop. The soup is the only constant the people who come into that basement get to count on, and we keep it constant. Astrid had a fall. She is fine. The Twin Cities sister-call club is now its own small intervention. Karin and I take turns calling Astrid. Astrid resents the calls. We make them anyway. The resentment is the love filtered through Astrid's particular Scandinavian self-sufficiency. We do not mind being resented. We mind, far more, the alternative. Erik turned seventy. We had a small party at his house. He grilled. He drank one beer (his quota, a quota set by his doctor, observed religiously). He was quiet and happy. He looked like Pappa around the eyes. I had not noticed before. I notice now. The resemblance has deepened with age. Erik is becoming Pappa in the slow gentle way that men become their fathers if they live long enough. I cooked Chicken pot pie this week. Whole chicken poached for stock and meat. Pie crust made with butter and lard (half and half — the lard makes it flaky, the butter makes it taste good). Diced potato, carrot, peas, pearl onions, the shredded chicken in a white roux thickened with the chicken stock and milk. Topped with a lid of crust. Baked until the crust is gold and the filling bubbles through the slits. The Damiano Center: the regular Thursday. The soup is the soup. The conversations are the conversations. The week is held by the Thursday. I do not know what I would do without the Thursday. The Thursday is the structural element of the week. The structural element does not collapse if the rest of the week goes sideways. The Thursday holds. The lake was iron gray. The kind of gray Paul loved. He used to say: "That is the gray that means weather is coming." He was always right. I miss being told. I miss being told what the lake means by a man who knew what the lake meant. I have learned to read the lake on my own. I am, at this point, an adequate reader. I am not as good as Paul was. I am better than I would have been if I had not had to learn. It is enough. Paul is not here. Mamma is not here. Pappa is not here. Erik is not here. They are all here in the kitchen, in the smell, in the taste, in the wooden spoon and the bread pans and the marble slab. The dead are not where the body went. The dead are in the kitchen. The phone rings less than it used to. Not because fewer people are calling, but because the people who call are mostly the family, and the family has settled into a rhythm — Peter daily, Anna twice a week, Sophie weekly, Elsa biweekly, Karin Sundays, Astrid Sundays. The phone rings predictably. I pick up predictably. The predictability is the love at this stage of life. It is enough.

The week had been full — Erik’s birthday, Astrid’s fall, the Thursday at the Damiano Center — and by Friday I wanted something warm and made by hand, something with crust and cheese and the smell of a hot oven doing its work. Cheese pizza is not so far from pot pie in spirit: dough, something melted, something golden on top. It is the kind of food that reminds you the kitchen is still running, that you are still running, that the table is still set. I made this for myself on a quiet evening, the lake gone gray outside the window, and it was enough.

Homemade Cheese Pizza

Prep Time: 20 min | Cook Time: 15 min | Total Time: 35 min (plus 1 hour dough rise) | Servings: 4

Ingredients

• 2 1/4 tsp active dry yeast (1 packet)
• 1 cup warm water (about 110°F)
• 1 tsp sugar
• 2 1/2 cups all-purpose flour, plus more for dusting
• 1 tsp kosher salt
• 2 tbsp olive oil, divided
• 3/4 cup canned crushed tomatoes
• 1 clove garlic, minced
• 1/2 tsp dried oregano
• 1/4 tsp red pepper flakes (optional)
• 2 cups shredded low-moisture mozzarella cheese
• 1/4 cup finely grated Parmesan cheese
• Fresh basil leaves, for serving

Instructions

1. Bloom the yeast. Combine warm water, sugar, and yeast in a large bowl. Let stand 5–10 minutes until foamy.
2. Make the dough. Add flour, salt, and 1 tbsp olive oil to the yeast mixture. Stir until a shaggy dough forms, then turn out onto a lightly floured surface and knead 6–8 minutes until smooth and elastic. Place in a lightly oiled bowl, cover with a damp towel, and let rise in a warm spot for 1 hour or until doubled.
3. Prepare the sauce. While dough rises, stir together crushed tomatoes, garlic, oregano, red pepper flakes, and a pinch of salt in a small bowl. Taste and adjust seasoning.
4. Preheat oven. Place a baking sheet or pizza stone in the oven and preheat to 475°F (245°C) for at least 30 minutes.
5. Shape the dough. Punch down the risen dough and turn it onto a floured surface. Press and stretch it by hand (or use a rolling pin) into a 12-inch round approximately 1/4 inch thick. Transfer to a sheet of parchment paper.
6. Top the pizza. Brush the dough with the remaining 1 tbsp olive oil. Spread the tomato sauce evenly, leaving a 3/4-inch border. Scatter mozzarella over the sauce, then finish with Parmesan.
7. Bake. Slide the pizza (on parchment) onto the hot baking sheet or stone. Bake 13–15 minutes until the crust is deep golden at the edges and the cheese is bubbling and lightly browned in spots.
8. Rest and serve. Let the pizza rest 3 minutes before slicing. Scatter fresh basil over the top and serve immediately.

Nutrition (per serving)

Calories: 480 | Protein: 22g | Fat: 16g | Carbs: 60g | Fiber: 3g | Sodium: 720mg