Portobello Mushroom Pizza

River called on a Tuesday from OSU, excited in a way he doesn't often let himself be over the phone. He and Lucia had submitted their research proposal to a university grant program and it had been selected for preliminary funding — enough to spend a semester collecting data on three Indigenous farms in Oklahoma that had been operating for more than fifteen years and studying the soil health outcomes compared to conventional farms in the same region. Elohi Foods properties would be part of the study. My land would be part of the study.

He asked if I'd be willing to have the soil tested and documented, answer questions, participate in interviews. I said of course. He said the professor would be the named investigator and he and Lucia would be co-investigators, which at the undergraduate level was unusual and a signal of how seriously the proposal had been taken. He said he'd been working on it for six months. I said it showed.

I thought about all the years I'd been doing this without a scientific framework, building the soil by feel and observation and the accumulated knowledge passed down through the curriculum and Danny's teaching and my grandfather's teaching before that. Now that soil was going to be tested and the results were going to be compared and the practices that had produced those results were going to be documented and put into a research context that would reach people who'd never heard of this land or this kitchen or any of us. The chain keeps extending. You don't always see the far end but the chain is there.

After River’s call I found myself standing in the kitchen thinking about the ground itself — what it holds, what it gives back when you treat it right. Portobello mushrooms feel like the most honest expression of that relationship I know how to put on a plate: they come up from the dark, they’re dense with something the soil made, and they reward patience. I’ve made this pizza on evenings when I needed to feel connected to the work before the words for it arrived.

Prep Time: 20 min | Cook Time: 25 min | Total Time: 45 min | Servings: 4

Ingredients

1 lb store-bought or homemade pizza dough, room temperature
3 large portobello mushroom caps, stems removed, sliced 1/4 inch thick
2 tablespoons olive oil, divided
3 cloves garlic, minced
1/2 teaspoon fresh thyme leaves
1/2 teaspoon kosher salt, plus more to taste
1/4 teaspoon black pepper
1/2 cup pizza sauce or crushed San Marzano tomatoes
1 1/2 cups shredded low-moisture mozzarella
1/4 cup freshly grated Parmesan
1/4 teaspoon red pepper flakes (optional)
Fresh basil leaves, for finishing

Instructions

Preheat oven. Place a baking stone or heavy baking sheet on the center rack and preheat oven to 475°F for at least 30 minutes.
Sauté the mushrooms. Heat 1 tablespoon olive oil in a large skillet over medium-high heat. Add portobello slices in a single layer and cook undisturbed for 3 minutes. Flip, add garlic and thyme, and cook another 2–3 minutes until the mushrooms are tender and any released liquid has evaporated. Season with salt and pepper. Set aside.
Shape the dough. On a lightly floured surface, stretch or roll the dough into a 12-inch round. Transfer to a sheet of parchment paper. Brush the outer 1 inch with the remaining tablespoon of olive oil to form the crust.
Build the pizza. Spread pizza sauce evenly over the dough, leaving the oiled border clear. Scatter mozzarella over the sauce. Arrange the sautéed portobello slices evenly on top. Finish with Parmesan and red pepper flakes if using.
Bake. Slide the parchment and pizza onto the preheated stone or baking sheet. Bake for 12–15 minutes, until the crust is deep golden and the cheese is bubbling with brown spots.
Finish and serve. Let rest 2 minutes before slicing. Scatter fresh basil over the top and serve immediately.

Nutrition (per serving)

Portobello Mushroom Pizza — Rooted in the Soil We Tend