Pizza Margherita with Roasted Tomato Pizza Sauce -- The Sunday Rhythm That Holds Everything Together

Luis and I sat on the porch after dinner. The evening sky over El Paso turned from gold to purple. The desert exhaled. We held hands. We didn't speak. The not-speaking is the conversation we have perfected over three decades of marriage: everything said without saying anything. The porch is our dialect.

Luis (the small husband) operates the small bakery’s production side while Maria Elena runs the small front-of-house and the small recipe-development. The small forty-year-relationship (married against both small families’ wishes) has been the small life-partnership. The small Javier-loss in 1993 had been the small permanent wound the small family carries. The small marriage-survived.

The small Panadería Rosa in the small downtown El Paso continues to be the small business. The small bakery operates from four AM to six PM six days a week. The small pan dulce, the small empanadas, the small bolillos, the small conchas are the small daily-product. The small bakery is the small Maria Elena and Luis Gutierrez inheritance from Maria Elena’s parents.

The small twelve-grandchildren are the small joy-of-the-small-final-third-of-life. The small grandkids cycle through the small Sunday-bakery-and-Maria-Elena-house from morning to evening. The small intergenerational kitchen runs on the small Sunday.

The small Panadería Rosa in the small downtown El Paso continues to be the small business. The small bakery operates from four AM to six PM six days a week. The small pan dulce, the small empanadas, the small bolillos, the small conchas are the small daily-product. The small bakery is the small Maria Elena and Luis Gutierrez inheritance from Maria Elena’s parents.

The five children: Carlos (the small eldest) had been killed in Juárez in 2008 at age 19 in the small cartel-violence. The small loss is the small permanent-wound. The small four-surviving-children are: Roberto Jr. (now 38, runs the small bakery’s wholesale operation, married with three kids), Elena (now 35, a small ER nurse, married with two kids), Mateo (now 32, a small high school teacher, married with one kid), and Sofia (now 28, the small bakery’s manager, engaged).

The small twelve-grandchildren are the small joy-of-the-small-final-third-of-life. The small grandkids cycle through the small Sunday-bakery-and-Maria-Elena-house from morning to evening. The small intergenerational kitchen runs on the small Sunday.

The small Mexican-cooking-tradition runs through the small kitchen-and-bakery. The small mole, the small chiles rellenos, the small tamales-at-Christmas, the small posada-foods, the small Three Kings Day rosca. The small recipes have come down through four-and-five generations of the small Gutierrez-Hernandez women.

Luis (the small husband) operates the small bakery’s production side while Maria Elena runs the small front-of-house and the small recipe-development. The small forty-year-relationship (married against both small families’ wishes) has been the small life-partnership. The small Javier-loss in 1993 had been the small permanent wound the small family carries. The small marriage-survived.

The small El Paso-Juárez border-cousin-network continues. The small Juárez-side of the family (Maria Elena’s mother’s family) crosses the small bridge for the small family-events. The small cross-border family-life has been the small constant. The small post-Carlos-killing has changed the small relationship to the small Juárez-side.

The small Sunday-publishing-rhythm of the recipe blog continues to be the small organizing-spine of the small week. The small Sunday-cooking happens in the small late-morning-to-early-afternoon window. The small photographing of the finished dish happens at the small three-PM kitchen-light-window. The small writing-up of the recipe happens at the small four-PM workspace at the kitchen-counter. The small final-edit happens at the small five-PM. The small post publishes at seven PM. The small ritual has been running for years.

The small recipe-development-philosophy continues to be the small small-batch-test-then-publish approach. The small first cook of a small new recipe happens on the small Saturday afternoon. The small adjustments are noted in the small kitchen-notebook. The small second cook happens Sunday with the small adjustments incorporated. The small Sunday-cook is the small version that gets photographed and published. The small two-test process catches the small recipe-flaws before they reach the small reader.

The small kitchen-equipment-inventory has the small key-pieces that show up in nearly every recipe. The small heavy-bottomed Dutch oven for the small braises. The small twelve-inch cast-iron skillet for the small sears and the small pan-roasts. The small half-sheet baking-pans for the small roasted vegetables and the small cookies. The small wooden-spoon-collection in the small ceramic-pitcher on the counter. The small chef’s-knife and the small paring-knife and the small bread-knife that are the small daily-tools.

The small grocery-shopping rhythm runs through the small Tuesday-evening trip and the small Saturday-morning top-off. The small Tuesday-trip is the small weekly-stock-up for the small staples and the small produce and the small protein. The small Saturday-trip is the small quick-fill for whatever the small Sunday-recipe requires that is not already in the small pantry. The small two-trip-per-week pattern keeps the small grocery-bill manageable and the small food-waste low.

The small meal-planning happens on the small Sunday-evening for the small week-ahead. The small dinners are mapped out across the small Monday-through-Saturday. The small repeating-meals are slotted in (the small pasta-Monday, the small taco-Tuesday or similar pattern). The small new-recipes are slotted for the small Wednesday-or-Thursday for the small variety. The small planning ahead reduces the small daily what-are-we-making-for-dinner stress.

The small weekday-cooking is the small efficient-and-fast mode. The small Sunday-cooking is the small slow-and-careful mode. The small two-modes serve the small two-different-needs. The small weekday-cooking has to be on the small table within forty-five minutes of getting home from the small work-or-school-pickup. The small Sunday-cooking can take three hours and benefit from every minute of that time.

The small recipe-archive on the small blog has grown to many hundreds of recipes over the years. The small archive is the small searchable-resource for the small weekday-meal-planning. The small reader-feedback in the small comments-section helps refine the small recipes over time. The small note-from-a-reader who tried a small substitution that worked better than the small original gets incorporated into the small recipe-revision.

The small Sunday-cooking-and-writing rhythm is the small thing that has held across years of life-changes and family-events and small ordinary-weekday-disruptions. The small constant is the small Sunday. The small constant is the small recipe. The small constant is the small posting-at-seven-PM ritual. The small constant is the small reader on the other end of the small post who is going to read the small recipe and try the small recipe in the small reader’s own kitchen.

Sunday cooking is the spine of everything for us — the slow, careful mode that the weekday never allows. After a morning of grandkids cycling through the kitchen and an afternoon of photographing whatever came out of it, Luis and I often end the day with something elemental: dough, tomato, heat. This Pizza Margherita with Roasted Tomato Pizza Sauce is the kind of recipe that rewards the unhurried Sunday hand — the long roast on the tomatoes, the careful stretch of the dough — and it asks you to be present in exactly the way a Sunday should ask you to be present.

Pizza Margherita with Roasted Tomato Pizza Sauce

Prep Time: 25 min | Cook Time: 45 min | Total Time: 1 hr 10 min | Servings: 4

Ingredients

• Roasted Tomato Pizza Sauce
• 1 1/2 lbs Roma tomatoes, halved lengthwise
• 4 cloves garlic, unpeeled
• 2 tablespoons olive oil
• 1/2 teaspoon kosher salt
• 1/4 teaspoon black pepper
• 1/4 teaspoon crushed red pepper flakes (optional)
• 4–5 fresh basil leaves
• Pizza
• 1 lb store-bought or homemade pizza dough, at room temperature
• 2 tablespoons olive oil, divided, plus more for the pan
• 3/4 cup roasted tomato pizza sauce (from above)
• 8 oz fresh mozzarella, torn or sliced
• 1/4 cup freshly grated Parmesan
• 8–10 fresh basil leaves, for finishing
• Flaky sea salt, to finish

Instructions

1. Roast the tomatoes. Preheat oven to 400°F. Arrange the halved Roma tomatoes cut-side up on a rimmed half-sheet baking pan. Nestle the unpeeled garlic cloves among them. Drizzle with olive oil and season with salt, pepper, and red pepper flakes if using. Roast for 35–40 minutes until the tomatoes are deeply caramelized and collapsing at the edges.
2. Make the sauce. Let the tomatoes cool slightly. Squeeze the roasted garlic from its skins directly into a blender or food processor. Add the roasted tomatoes, any pan juices, and the fresh basil. Pulse 4–5 times — you want the sauce chunky, not smooth. Taste and adjust salt. Set aside.
3. Prepare the oven and pan. Raise oven temperature to 475°F (or as high as your oven goes). Lightly oil a 12-inch cast-iron skillet or a heavy rimmed half-sheet pan with olive oil.
4. Shape the dough. On a lightly floured surface, stretch or roll the dough to roughly a 12-inch round (for the skillet) or a rough rectangle (for the sheet pan). Transfer to the prepared pan. Drizzle the top of the dough with 1 tablespoon olive oil and press it gently to the edges of the pan.
5. Top the pizza. Spread 3/4 cup of the roasted tomato sauce evenly over the dough, leaving a 1/2-inch border. Scatter the torn fresh mozzarella across the sauce. Dust with freshly grated Parmesan.
6. Bake. Bake for 12–15 minutes until the crust is golden and blistered at the edges and the cheese is bubbling and beginning to spot with color. Rotate the pan once halfway through for even browning.
7. Finish and serve. Remove from the oven and immediately scatter fresh basil leaves over the top. Drizzle with the remaining tablespoon of olive oil and finish with a pinch of flaky sea salt. Slice and serve straight from the pan.

Nutrition (per serving)

Calories: 480 | Protein: 20g | Fat: 18g | Carbs: 58g | Fiber: 3g | Sodium: 720mg