Pizza Monkey Bread

My week with the kids. The Lions on Sunday. The quiet desperation of Lions fans returns. Tuesday was a long shift — second-shift overlap on a build target. Cleared it.

Pop's in the recliner. Tigers on. Sugar in range this week. Sunday at Mama's. She made greens with hambone the way she has since 1985.

Jambalaya Sunday. Andouille, chicken, shrimp. Trinity. Rice cooked in the pot.

Aiden's 10. The youth basketball league. I'm coaching. He's the best player on the team and he knows it. Zaria's 8. Helps me cook on a step stool. Has opinions about the seasoning.

I sat on the back porch with a beer and looked at the smoker and thought about nothing for an hour.

I read for an hour Sunday night. A book about the auto industry. Half memoir, half history. Made me think about Pop and the line and the fragile contract that built the middle of this country. I underlined the parts that hit.

Mr. Williams across the street had a heart scare. He is okay. We are all watching each other now. I took him a plate of greens and chicken Wednesday. He said, "DeShawn. You're a good neighbor." I said, "We're even, Mr. Williams. You shoveled my walk in 2024." He laughed.

Stopped at Eastern Market Saturday. Got chicken thighs, bacon, a watermelon, and a pound of greens that I did not need but bought anyway. The vendors know me by name now. Three of them asked about the family.

Drove past Jefferson North on Tuesday. The plant is still the plant. The trucks coming out. I waved at the gate guard out of habit. He waved back even though he didn't know me. The plant is its own neighborhood.

A song came on the radio Tuesday — old Stevie Wonder — and I had to sit in the truck for the rest of it before I went into the store. Some songs do that. Detroit is a city of songs that do that.

I took a walk around the block Sunday morning. The neighborhood was quiet. The trees were the trees. The light was good. I waved at three porches. The porches waved back. Brookline holds.

I made grocery lists on the back of envelopes the way Mama did. The list this week was short — onions, garlic, half-and-half, cornmeal, a pound of bacon. The list is the recipe of the week before it happens.

A neighbor down the street gave me a tomato plant Saturday. He grows them on his porch. Said he had extra. I put it next to the back step where it gets the afternoon sun. Detroit gardens are improvised victories.

Aiden had practice Tuesday and Thursday. I drove. He shot threes for an hour after.

Plant ran clean this week. The line ran. The body held. The paycheck is the paycheck.

The block had a small drama Tuesday. Somebody parked in front of Ms. Diane's driveway. Ms. Diane addressed it directly. The car moved within the hour. The neighborhood polices itself on small things.

The Lions on TV Sunday. Lost on a missed field goal. Detroit. The neighborhood collectively groaned at the same moment. You could hear it through the windows.

Mama left me a voicemail Wednesday. She said, "DeShawn. Don't forget Sunday." I had not forgotten Sunday. I have not forgotten Sunday in twenty years. The reminder is the love. I called her back.

The drive home Friday was the long way around. I took Outer Drive past the lake. The water was still. I do not always notice the water. I noticed Friday.

Jambalaya Sunday is mine — the trinity, the andouille, the rice cooked in the pot — and I don’t share that recipe lightly. But the week I’m describing, Zaria was on her step stool with opinions, and what she wanted to make was something she could pull apart with her hands. Pizza Monkey Bread is exactly that kind of recipe: loud, cheesy, no manners required at the table. After a week that ran clean and a Saturday at Eastern Market and a Lions loss we all heard through the windows, this was the right thing to put in the middle of the table and let the kids go.

Prep Time: 15 min | Cook Time: 35 min | Total Time: 50 min | Servings: 10

Ingredients

3 cans (7.5 oz each) refrigerated buttermilk biscuit dough
1 cup mini pepperoni slices
1 1/2 cups shredded mozzarella cheese, divided
1/4 cup grated Parmesan cheese
4 tablespoons unsalted butter, melted
3 cloves garlic, minced
1 teaspoon Italian seasoning
1/2 teaspoon crushed red pepper flakes (optional)
1/2 teaspoon garlic powder
1 cup marinara sauce, warmed, for dipping
Cooking spray

Instructions

Preheat and prep. Heat oven to 350°F. Generously coat a 10- to 12-cup bundt pan with cooking spray, making sure to get into all the ridges.
Cut the dough. Open each can of biscuit dough and cut every biscuit into quarters. Place the pieces in a large mixing bowl.
Make the garlic butter. In a small bowl, combine the melted butter, minced garlic, Italian seasoning, garlic powder, and red pepper flakes if using. Stir well.
Combine the filling. Pour the garlic butter over the biscuit pieces. Add the pepperoni, 1 cup of the mozzarella, and all of the Parmesan. Toss until every piece is well coated.
Layer the pan. Transfer the mixture into the prepared bundt pan, pressing down gently and distributing the pepperoni evenly as you go. Scatter the remaining 1/2 cup mozzarella over the top.
Bake. Bake for 30 to 35 minutes, until the top is deep golden brown and the center is cooked through. A toothpick inserted into the dough should come out clean.
Rest and invert. Let the pan rest on a wire rack for 5 minutes. Run a butter knife around the outer and inner edges, then invert onto a large serving plate or cutting board.
Serve. Serve immediately with warm marinara sauce alongside for dipping. Best eaten with your hands.

Nutrition (per serving)

Pizza Monkey Bread — The One the Kids Pull Apart Together