Aaron went out and bought a grill this week. I say that with a laugh, as if any man could just "go out and buy a grill." No- this was not a spur of the moment purchase, like a pack of gum and a Cosmo at the food store, or the time when I decided that I wanted a puppy (twice). This was a process. A process which began precisely 10 months ago, when it became clear that the harsh Philadelphia winter had been less than kind to his old one- and ended last Sunday, after no less than 4 trips (that I know of) to Lowes and roughly 20 hours
of online research. Hopefully, he puts this much thought into my birthday gift (if you are reading this, dear, I'd like a pair of black satin peep-toe Louboutins please). A man and his grill have a very special bond- which I guess I should respect, as he has never uttered one complaint about the "bond" that my shoes have with our guest bedroom floor after they reached a number which could no longer be contained in the closet (but one more won't hurt, so...)
of online research. Hopefully, he puts this much thought into my birthday gift (if you are reading this, dear, I'd like a pair of black satin peep-toe Louboutins please). A man and his grill have a very special bond- which I guess I should respect, as he has never uttered one complaint about the "bond" that my shoes have with our guest bedroom floor after they reached a number which could no longer be contained in the closet (but one more won't hurt, so...)So anyway, he got the grill set up and we (of course) had to take it for a spin. We (I) decided that we (he) were going to make one of my most favorite things in the world: pizza.
Pizza was the first thing I really missed after my diagnosis. I tried all different kinds of frozen pies, pre-packaged crusts, and couldn't figure out why it just didn't taste right. After much (mainly failed) experimentation, I was forced to admit something to myself: If you are gluten-free, you can kiss the concept of a deep-dish pie away. I will rarely ever admit defeat here. The whole purpose of ths exploration into the culinary world was to prove to myself, and others like me, that gluten-free does not have to be the determining factor in your choice of cuisine. That there is really amazing food out there that is either naturally gluten-free, or designed with us in mind. I don't want to be Debbie Downer, here. But, and I am certainly willing to retract this statement if proven wrong, all evidence points to the fact that my days of doughy-pulled-apart-cheesy-stuffed-crusts are gone.
DON'T STOP READING! THERE'S GOOD NEWS. Turns out that Pizza Hut and Domino's, when they bake and fill their fluffy flour-filled shells of glutenous death, are not always making the most culinary-forward pies. Sure, they might appeal to the masses and look great on TV, but they have a limited pizza scope. Apparently, there's this whole world of flat bread pizzas out there- and it's ours for the taking. In Spain, they are called cocas, and their crispy deliciousness know no bounds. Cocas are made with thinly rolled dough that not only does not need the elasticity provided by the gluten protein- they actually benefit from not having it. They are typically wood-fired to create a crunchy, grilled texture.
The gluten-free version of this crust which I have found works best is Gillians, available in your local Whole Foods freezer aisle. We usually plan our pizza nights in the beginning of the week so we can take the dough out of the freezer the night before and let it thaw out in the fridge. A little bit of flour on the counter, and Aaron rolls it out so it is nice and thin. The dough typically yields about three oblong pizza crusts which are cut into four one and a half inch slices. Aaron brushes the dough with olive oil and par-bakes it in the oven for about 10 minutes until firm (pause for an obligatory 'that's what she said' joke). Then, we add the toppings.
If there is one thing I will dare not to impose my opinions about, it is this subject. Pizza topping preferences are so fiercely held by each individual that they are on par with religious beliefs or political affiliation. Pepperoni, Sausage, Peppers, Olives, Anchovies, Pineapple: I believe in a world where an individual is free to top regardless of race, creed, gender or sexual orientation. I will not proselytize. I'll give you the rundown, on what we made, so you can make your own, informed decisions on this hot-button topping-ic (get it?).
Tonight, we are making two kinds. One is fresh and simple- fresh pulled mozzarella from the amazing Wegman's cheese counter, some regular-ass-but-still-delicious shredded mozzarella on the pizza, and healthy gobs of ricotta. The second pizza gets shredded mozzarella, Asiago, and some short rib that Aaron braised with baby carrots, cipollini onions, and rosemary in the toaster oven (sounds way more ghetto than it is, I promise). This pizza also gets a sweet onion marmalade which he made by doing something that looked way more complicated than just opening a jar of marmalade (which is what I would have done), but is freaking delicious.
Then, we head outside. Aaron fires up the grill and places the pizza on a wire rack which goes right on top of the grill. Close the lid and let it cook for about five minutes, until the cheese is melty and the bottom starts to char. He rotates the pizza to the other side, and fires the grill up again.
DON'T STOP READING! THERE'S GOOD NEWS. Turns out that Pizza Hut and Domino's, when they bake and fill their fluffy flour-filled shells of glutenous death, are not always making the most culinary-forward pies. Sure, they might appeal to the masses and look great on TV, but they have a limited pizza scope. Apparently, there's this whole world of flat bread pizzas out there- and it's ours for the taking. In Spain, they are called cocas, and their crispy deliciousness know no bounds. Cocas are made with thinly rolled dough that not only does not need the elasticity provided by the gluten protein- they actually benefit from not having it. They are typically wood-fired to create a crunchy, grilled texture.
The gluten-free version of this crust which I have found works best is Gillians, available in your local Whole Foods freezer aisle. We usually plan our pizza nights in the beginning of the week so we can take the dough out of the freezer the night before and let it thaw out in the fridge. A little bit of flour on the counter, and Aaron rolls it out so it is nice and thin. The dough typically yields about three oblong pizza crusts which are cut into four one and a half inch slices. Aaron brushes the dough with olive oil and par-bakes it in the oven for about 10 minutes until firm (pause for an obligatory 'that's what she said' joke). Then, we add the toppings.
If there is one thing I will dare not to impose my opinions about, it is this subject. Pizza topping preferences are so fiercely held by each individual that they are on par with religious beliefs or political affiliation. Pepperoni, Sausage, Peppers, Olives, Anchovies, Pineapple: I believe in a world where an individual is free to top regardless of race, creed, gender or sexual orientation. I will not proselytize. I'll give you the rundown, on what we made, so you can make your own, informed decisions on this hot-button topping-ic (get it?).
Tonight, we are making two kinds. One is fresh and simple- fresh pulled mozzarella from the amazing Wegman's cheese counter, some regular-ass-but-still-delicious shredded mozzarella on the pizza, and healthy gobs of ricotta. The second pizza gets shredded mozzarella, Asiago, and some short rib that Aaron braised with baby carrots, cipollini onions, and rosemary in the toaster oven (sounds way more ghetto than it is, I promise). This pizza also gets a sweet onion marmalade which he made by doing something that looked way more complicated than just opening a jar of marmalade (which is what I would have done), but is freaking delicious.Then, we head outside. Aaron fires up the grill and places the pizza on a wire rack which goes right on top of the grill. Close the lid and let it cook for about five minutes, until the cheese is melty and the bottom starts to char. He rotates the pizza to the other side, and fires the grill up again.
When they are cooked all the way through, we top our cheese pizza with thinly sliced heirloom tomatoes and fresh chiffonaded (that's the technical culinary past tense) basil and a few cracks of red Hawaiian sea salt. For the short rib pizza, a thin drizzle of horseradish sauce and fresh shaved Asiago cheese. I am so excited I can hardly wait for the cheese to stop bubbling. I size up my slice, weigh my options, and decide that a few singed taste buds are worth the instant gratification. "Mmmmyum" I mumble incoherently, my mouth glued together by cheesy goodness. "MmthisisthebestpizzaIhaveeverhad."
I manage to swallow and stop and think for a minute. I mean it. This is literally the best pizza I have ever had. Not the best gluten-free pizza, but the best pizza period. It's crispy and crunchy and cheesy and the tangy, tomato-y acidity pops as each crystal of salt dissolves on my tongue. The short rib literally melts in my mouth and is perfectly balanced by the unbelievable silky sweetness of onion marmalade, swaddled in creamy folds of melted cheese. The flat bread even bubbled up a little in certain spots from the grill, creating delicate, delicious pockets of air sporting char marks like a badge of honor, a sight that I literally thought I'd never see again, and actually makes me a bit teary-eyed, and the crust makes a ridiculously satisfying crunch with every bite.
I manage to swallow and stop and think for a minute. I mean it. This is literally the best pizza I have ever had. Not the best gluten-free pizza, but the best pizza period. It's crispy and crunchy and cheesy and the tangy, tomato-y acidity pops as each crystal of salt dissolves on my tongue. The short rib literally melts in my mouth and is perfectly balanced by the unbelievable silky sweetness of onion marmalade, swaddled in creamy folds of melted cheese. The flat bread even bubbled up a little in certain spots from the grill, creating delicate, delicious pockets of air sporting char marks like a badge of honor, a sight that I literally thought I'd never see again, and actually makes me a bit teary-eyed, and the crust makes a ridiculously satisfying crunch with every bite.It is a huge deal for me to say this pizza, in front of me, which just happens to be gluten free, is the best pizza I have ever had. It is why I want to share this with you: the fact that something which should taste like it is missing an integral ingredient, could be better than any slice I'd ever eaten BC.
Suck it, Dominos.
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