Homemade Pizza From Scratch

The week after the fundraiser is my recovery week — the one week I step back from the smoker and let Rosetta feed us. She makes her things: grilled chicken, steamed vegetables, the pasta salad that appears in my life with the regularity of a monthly bill. I eat it without complaint, because the fundraiser empties me the way a sixteen-hour smoke empties the wood — completely, necessarily — and the refilling takes whatever form it takes.

This week the refilling came from an unexpected source: DeAndre. Walter Jr. dropped him off Saturday morning because Tamika had a work conference, and DeAndre and I spent the day together, just the two of us — a grandfather and his seven-year-old grandson, building a world out of hours and attention and whatever food I could make that a seven-year-old would consider interesting.

We made pizza. Not the kind of pizza that comes from a box or a delivery car — homemade pizza, from scratch, the way I learned to make it from a cookbook Rosetta gave me in 1990 that I've never used for anything else. Dough: flour, yeast, water, olive oil, salt, kneaded until smooth and left to rise for an hour. Sauce: canned crushed tomatoes with garlic, basil, and oregano, simmered for twenty minutes. Toppings: mozzarella, pepperoni (DeAndre's choice), and banana peppers (my choice, vetoed by DeAndre, reinstated by me, because grandfathers have final say on toppings).

DeAndre's hands in the dough were something to see — small hands, working the flour and water together with the concentration of a boy who has discovered that food doesn't just appear, it's made, and the making is the magic. He kneaded the way I taught him: push, fold, turn. Push, fold, turn. The same rhythm that Uncle Clyde used to describe fire management: tend, check, adjust. The same rhythm that carries through everything I do: patience, attention, repetition.

The pizza was good. Not great — the crust was a little thick, the sauce a little thin — but it was made by a seven-year-old and his grandfather in a kitchen in Orange Mound, and the imperfections were the best part, because imperfection in homemade food is proof that human hands touched it, and human hands are what make food into love.

DeAndre ate three slices and said, "Grandpa, can we make this every week?" I said, "We can make it whenever you want." He said, "I want to make BBQ pizza." I said, "Son, that's the best idea anyone in this family has had in years." And it was. BBQ pizza. Pulled pork on pizza dough with BBQ sauce and mozzarella and pickled onions. We'll make it next time. The next time is the thing — the promise of more, the assurance that this was not a one-time event but the beginning of something, a tradition being born in real time, in a kitchen, between a big man and a small boy and a ball of dough.

DeAndre asked if we could make it every week, and I told him we could make it whenever he wanted — so I wanted to write down exactly what we did before the details drift the way details do. This is the recipe, start to finish: the dough we kneaded together on the kitchen counter, the sauce that simmered while he washed flour off his hands, and yes, the banana peppers, because grandfathers have final say on toppings.

Prep Time: 25 minutes | Rise Time: 1 hour | Cook Time: 15 minutes | Total Time: 1 hour 40 minutes | Servings: 4 (one 12-inch pizza)

Ingredients

For the Dough:

2 1/4 teaspoons active dry yeast (one standard packet)
3/4 cup warm water (about 110°F)
1 teaspoon sugar
2 cups all-purpose flour, plus extra for kneading
3/4 teaspoon kosher salt
1 1/2 tablespoons olive oil, plus extra for the bowl

For the Sauce:

1 can (14.5 oz) crushed tomatoes
2 cloves garlic, minced
1 teaspoon dried basil
1 teaspoon dried oregano
1/2 teaspoon kosher salt
1/2 teaspoon black pepper
1 teaspoon olive oil

For the Toppings:

1 1/2 cups shredded low-moisture mozzarella
3 oz sliced pepperoni
1/4 cup sliced banana peppers (optional, but recommended by the grandfather)

Instructions

Proof the yeast. Combine warm water, sugar, and yeast in a large bowl. Stir gently and let sit 5–10 minutes until foamy. If it doesn’t foam, your water was too hot or too cold — start over.
Make the dough. Add olive oil and salt to the yeast mixture, then stir in flour one cup at a time until a shaggy dough forms. Turn it out onto a lightly floured surface.
Knead. Knead the dough for 8–10 minutes using the push-fold-turn rhythm: press the heel of your hand forward into the dough, fold it back toward you, turn it a quarter turn, repeat. The dough is ready when it’s smooth, slightly tacky, and springs back when you poke it. This is the part where you hand it to your seven-year-old.
Let it rise. Lightly oil the bowl, return the dough to it, and turn once to coat. Cover with a clean kitchen towel and leave in a warm spot for 1 hour, until doubled in size.
Make the sauce. While the dough rises, heat 1 teaspoon olive oil in a small saucepan over medium heat. Add garlic and cook 1 minute until fragrant. Add crushed tomatoes, basil, oregano, salt, and pepper. Simmer uncovered for 20 minutes, stirring occasionally, until slightly thickened. Set aside to cool.
Preheat the oven. Place a rack in the lower third of the oven and preheat to 475°F. If you have a baking stone or steel, put it in now. Otherwise, a rimmed baking sheet works fine.
Shape the dough. Punch down the risen dough and turn it onto a lightly floured surface. Using your hands (not a rolling pin), press and stretch it into a 12-inch round, working from the center outward. Don’t worry about a perfect circle — imperfection is proof that human hands touched it.
Assemble. Transfer the shaped dough to a lightly oiled baking sheet or a floured pizza peel. Spread sauce evenly over the surface, leaving a 1/2-inch border. Scatter mozzarella over the sauce, then arrange pepperoni across the top. Add banana peppers if using.
Bake. Slide the pizza into the hot oven and bake 12–15 minutes, until the crust is golden at the edges and the cheese is bubbling and lightly browned in spots.
Rest and slice. Let the pizza rest 3 minutes before cutting into 8 slices. This is the hardest part when a seven-year-old is watching you.

Nutrition (per serving, 2 slices)

Homemade Pizza From Scratch — The Day DeAndre Learned That Food Is Made, Not Delivered