Margherita Pita Pizzas

Drove Dad to Bozeman for his quarterly neurology appointment. Dr. Varela reviewed the medication and the progression — stable, which is what stable means at this stage: not better, but not worse in any measurable way. The gait issue has not progressed beyond where it was six months ago. The tremor in the right hand is managed. She ordered a new MRI for January and adjusted one of the medications slightly.

On the drive home Dad asked about the writing. He's never asked before — he reads the pieces when Mom prints them for him, which she does without announcing it, and I know he reads them because occasionally he says something tangentially related to a piece a week after it came out. But he asked directly this time: What's the next one about? I said it was about the elk liver meal and about earned hunger. He thought about that for a mile and then said: That's a good subject.

I told him I was going to write about the ranch eventually. Not the pieces I've been writing around it — about haying and calving and the seasons — but about it directly. About the family and the succession and what it means to inherit a place rather than choose one. He was quiet for another mile. Then he said: I'd read that. That's the only permission I needed and I didn't know I was waiting for it until he gave it.

Made spaghetti all'Amatriciana on Sunday — guanciale rendered until crisp, white wine, San Marzano tomatoes, plenty of pecorino. A Roman pasta that requires very good guanciale or doesn't work at all. I order the guanciale from a place in Denver that ships properly. The pasta was correct. Some dishes have a narrow corridor of correctness. You enter the corridor or you don't.

There’s something about Italian simplicity that I keep returning to when a day has been heavy in the good way—the kind of heavy that asks something of you and then gives something back. Dad’s I’d read that settled into me on the drive home and I didn’t want to overthink dinner any more than I’d overthought what came next on the page. Margherita pita pizzas are the same kind of thing as the Amatriciana: a narrow corridor of correctness, but a forgiving one—good tomato, good cheese, high heat, done. Some evenings that’s exactly the recipe the day prescribes.

Prep Time: 10 min | Cook Time: 10 min | Total Time: 20 min | Servings: 4

Ingredients

4 whole wheat or white pita rounds (6-inch)
3/4 cup crushed San Marzano tomatoes
1 tablespoon extra-virgin olive oil, plus more for drizzling
1 small garlic clove, minced
1/2 teaspoon kosher salt
1/4 teaspoon black pepper
8 oz fresh mozzarella, thinly sliced
1/4 cup freshly grated Parmesan
1/4 cup fresh basil leaves, torn
Pinch of red pepper flakes (optional)

Instructions

Preheat. Set oven to 425°F with a rack in the upper third. If you have a baking stone, place it in the oven now. Otherwise line a baking sheet with parchment.
Make the sauce. In a small bowl, combine the crushed San Marzano tomatoes, olive oil, minced garlic, salt, and pepper. Stir to combine. Taste and adjust seasoning.
Assemble the pizzas. Lay the pita rounds on the prepared baking sheet. Spoon 2 to 3 tablespoons of tomato sauce onto each pita, spreading it to within 1/2 inch of the edge. Distribute the mozzarella slices evenly across all four pitas. Sprinkle with Parmesan and red pepper flakes if using.
Bake. Transfer to the oven and bake 8 to 10 minutes, until the cheese is melted and beginning to bubble and the edges of the pita are golden and crisp. Watch closely after 8 minutes—the line between golden and overdone is narrow.
Finish and serve. Remove from the oven, drizzle lightly with olive oil, and scatter torn fresh basil over the top. Serve immediately while the cheese is still pull-soft.

Nutrition (per serving)

Margherita Pita Pizzas — When the Corridor of Correctness Opens Up