Sausage-Stuffed Pizza

Kayla graduated from UL Lafayette's orientation — no, that is wrong. Kayla attended UL Lafayette's orientation. She does not graduate for two more years. But the orientation felt like a graduation because it was the last step before she leaves, and the leaving is the thing. I drove her to Lafayette on Saturday — just the two of us, two sisters in a car, Kayla nervous and pretending she was not, me remembering my own nerves two years ago and pretending they were wisdom now.

We moved her into the apartment — smaller than mine, cheaper ($550 a month), and the kitchen was a joke: one burner, no oven, a microwave that looked like it had been there since the building was constructed. I told her the kitchen did not matter. She said, "The kitchen has never mattered to me." This is true. Kayla does not cook. Kayla lives on takeout and cereal and the occasional meal that appears in front of her by the magic of other people's labor, primarily mine and Mama's. I stocked her fridge with basics — eggs, bread, cheese, fruit — and wrote instructions on a notecard: how to scramble eggs, how to make a sandwich, how to not die of scurvy. She taped the notecard to the wall. She will not use it. But the notecard is there, and the being-there is enough.

On the drive home I felt the particular ache of a sister who has delivered her younger sister to the world and must now trust the world to be kind. Kayla will be fine. She is talented and stubborn and funny and she has the Robinson work ethic, which is the work ethic of people who know what it costs to build a life and are willing to pay. She will be fine. She will call me when she is not fine. I will answer.

I made gumbo when I got home — alone, in Mama's kitchen, because Mama was at a church meeting and Daddy was at work and the house was empty and the emptiness needed filling. The gumbo was for no one in particular. It was for the house. Sometimes you cook for the house, not the people in it, because the house remembers the cooking and the remembering is what makes it home.

I did not make gumbo that day the way I imagined I would — I stood in Mama’s kitchen and realized I did not have okra, did not have file, did not have the patience for a roux that takes the time it takes. What I had was sausage and dough and the need to fill the oven with something that smelled like effort and love and the particular warmth that means someone lives here. This sausage-stuffed pizza is what came out of that need — dense and savory and generous, the kind of thing you make when you are cooking for the house and not the people, when you need the oven on and the kitchen smelling like home because the quiet is too loud otherwise.

Prep Time: 25 min | Cook Time: 25 min | Total Time: 50 min | Servings: 8

Ingredients

1 lb store-bought or homemade pizza dough, divided in half
1 lb Italian or andouille sausage, casings removed
1 1/2 cups shredded mozzarella cheese
1/2 cup shredded provolone cheese
3/4 cup pizza sauce, plus more for dipping
1/2 medium yellow onion, finely diced
1/2 green bell pepper, finely diced
3 cloves garlic, minced
1 tsp dried Italian seasoning
1/2 tsp crushed red pepper flakes (optional)
2 tbsp olive oil, divided
1 tbsp unsalted butter, melted
1/4 tsp garlic powder
Kosher salt and black pepper to taste

Instructions

Preheat the oven. Heat oven to 425°F. Lightly grease a 9x13-inch baking dish or a 12-inch cast iron skillet with 1 tablespoon of the olive oil and set aside.
Cook the sausage filling. Heat remaining 1 tablespoon olive oil in a large skillet over medium-high heat. Add the sausage and cook, breaking it apart with a spoon, until browned and no longer pink, about 6–8 minutes. Add the onion and bell pepper and cook until softened, 3–4 minutes more. Stir in the garlic and red pepper flakes, cook 1 minute, then drain any excess fat. Season lightly with salt and pepper and set aside to cool slightly.
Layer the bottom crust. On a lightly floured surface, roll one half of the dough into a rectangle or circle large enough to cover the bottom and come 1 inch up the sides of your prepared pan. Press it into the pan evenly, smoothing out any air pockets.
Add sauce and filling. Spread the pizza sauce evenly over the bottom crust, leaving a 1/2-inch border. Scatter the cooked sausage mixture evenly over the sauce. Top with the mozzarella and provolone cheeses in an even layer.
Add the top crust. Roll the second half of the dough to match the size of the pan. Lay it over the filling and press the edges firmly together with the bottom crust to seal. Crimp or fold the edges to prevent the filling from leaking.
Finish and bake. Mix the melted butter with the garlic powder and brush it over the entire top crust. Cut 4–5 small slits in the center with a sharp knife to allow steam to escape. Bake for 22–26 minutes, until the crust is deep golden brown and the edges are set.
Rest and slice. Let the pizza rest in the pan for 5 minutes before slicing. Serve warm with extra pizza sauce on the side for dipping.

Nutrition (per serving)

Sausage-Stuffed Pizza — Cooking for the House When the House Needs It