Pizza

This pizza is delicious. Like, really delicious. I think you should make it. And then I think you should take the next logical step and eat it…just don’t go eating it and then go shopping for a bathing suit, ’cause that’s just an awful idea.

I know it’s an awful idea because that’s just what I did. From said horrific shopping experience, I have a few ideas on how to make buying “outside underwear” a little more tolerable.

Rule 1: Don’t go to a place that rhymes with Schmorever 21 and expect bathing suits to fit well. They’re $7 for a reason.

Rule 2: Get “dressed” to go shopping. By “dressed” I mean put on some makeup, brush your hair. Look, you’re gonna be super annoying and overly self-critical, so at least look your very best. It helps.

Rule 3: American Apparel swimsuits are all a lil’ slutty looking. I think that’s the point. Sadface.

Rule 4: Like seriously, don’t go trying on swimsuits after a big meal. It’s just a sucky idea. Even if you don’t look full, you feel full. Just ugh.

Rule 5: Basically, don’t go to stores to try on swimsuits. Period. Buy them on a credit card and try them on at home and returns the ones that don’t work. Lesson learned.

For some reason, though stores have been selling clothes for, like, hundreds of years, most of them still haven’t figured out flattering dressing room lighting. WHY? It really can’t be THAT difficult. I mean, they put people on the moon…and have, like, multiple times.

*Annnnd, end swimsuit rant*

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Calzone!

in Dinner, Pizza

Uh-oh…this calzone shouldn’t be a calzone.

Nope. It totally should be a picture of a pizza…topped with layers of ricotta, melted mozzarella, cubes of roasted butternut squash and broccoli rabe. That was the plan.

This pizza was supposed to convince me that broccoli rabe isn’t this gross, bitter leaf situation…well that failed. I tried. I did. I blanched it, I sauteed it with garlic, seasoned it…even paired it with something like the butternut squash to offset its disgustingness. Didn’t work. It’s just gross. It just is.

I was gonna post it anyway, thinking some of you lunatics actually might like it…but I dunno…looking at the pictures of the pizza bummed me out, so I decided to turn the leftover ingredients (from the pizza) into something more awesome!!

Meet this calzone…

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Sometimes I do things I’m not so proud of. This is true.

Like…putting ice cubes in white wine. I’m impatient. I dunno…in the privacy in my own house I like “mom” wine. Gross.

I sometimes buy three bags of groceries and then decide I don’t want to cook and go out to eat instead. Total brat.

I’m also known to back out of Saturday night plans…because sometimes sitting on the couch internet stalking–for some reason–sounds like WAY more fun. Lame. Totally lame.

I’m really bad at returning library books. I found two under my bed. I’m guessing I now owe LA County Library like thousands of dollars for two $10 books from the 70s. I’m also pretty convinced that those fees are going to end up at the DMV. LA doesn’t play.

Sometimes though…sometimes I do really good things.

Like look at my friends dead in their eyes and tell them that I love them. This makes them super awkward and squirm in their seat. And then they usually just tell me to shut up.

I really dig telling strangers “bless you” when they sneeze. They’re always pleasantly surprised.

Whenever a boy, who I don’t know, opens the door for me, I look at them in their face and smile extra hard. And not in a I-like-you-let-me-make-you-eggs-and-bacon kind of way, but in a thank-you-for-being-a-damn-gentlemen way…now let’s get married!! JK.

No, no. I just like saying thank you the proper way, that’s all.

If I’m feeling particularly rich, I’ll put $2 (instead of $1) in my barista’s tip jar. They totally deserve more. Maybe more money and a hug? I’m a handful without coffee.

I can also turn a sandwich into a pizza. I think this qualifies as one of the good things I did recently.

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Summer’s totally in full effect. I haven’t watched TV in days, my nails are bright pink, I can’t leave the house without sunglasses, and all I want to do is sit outside while drinking pink wine and eating pizza.

And iced coffee. I’m eating that like crazy, too.

I’ve been playing with a lot of pizza topping combinations and I’m really digging the whole sweet fruit thing with cheese and some sort of salty meat. It’s a winner of a combo; made only better with a drizzle of this balsamic/honey reduction thing I made. Sounds fancy (meh)…nah! Totally easy.

I was going to use blackberries instead of the figs, but when I saw them perched, looking all cute in their pretty little basket, blackberries didn’t have a chance.
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Three words: Domino’s Pizza Tracker.

Do you know about this? If not, let me break it down: you order a pizza (via the internets) and then watch it go from “prep” to “bake” to “out the door for delivery.” First time I saw it in action my mind was blown.

I really had no idea how this could even be real. I embraced it…thinking, you know, we’re totally in the future. This is the future. But I still couldn’t figure out how this was logistically possible.  Is there low-jack technology involved? Does my pizza now have a micro-chip in it? Am I going to EAT this micro-chip? What will it taste like…? Well guess what…none. Of. It. Matters.

A friend of mine–who was equally obsessed as myself–did some serious research and found out that the entire thing is fake. Well, it’s not fake…it’s just based off of statistics in your area. Bummer-town, USA, eh? Yeah, me too.

What does this have to do with this Fancy Hawaiian Pizza? Nothing really…except I usually order a Hawaiian Pizza from Domino’s. Tomato sauce, canned pineapple, Canadian ham and cheese. Holy yum.

I thought it’d be a fun time to make a fancy version. Umm…hi!!! This was delicious!

Fresh pineapple & mozzarella, caramelized onions, prosciutto, arugula…and I broke out a new-to me, fancy pizza dough recipe by Peter Reinhart.

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I tried really hard to think of something to clever to write this morning, and finally had to concede that it just isn’t happening. It’s been a long week, and the week’s not even half over. Plus, the A/C is permanently stuck on “high” in my office, and it’s a balmy 50 degrees outside, so I’m more concerned with staying warm than coming up with cutsy quips.

Uggh, sorry, I wish I could do better for you. However, I do have this pizza. This pizza is delicious to make with fresh, early-summer corn. If you have access to a front porch, I suggest you eat there. If you can whip up a margarita to go with it, that wouldn’t hurt either.

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When one decides they’re gonna live in LA, they knowingly or unknowingly make a deal with the city.

It goes a little something like this: you will pay a ridiculous amount in rent, endure bumper-to-bumper traffic, receive parking tickets when you read the five posted signs, did the math and could’ve sworn you were okay to park there.  And you might just cough a little after a hike because of the smog, and you’ll learn what it feels like to pay for parking just when you wanna go to the mall.

But in return, LA will give you something so awesome that you’ll forget about all the drama (sort of):  some of the most beautiful weather in the country. Most of the time, LA totally comes through.  Most of the time.  Not this week.

This week…umm…LA has not held up its side of the bargain.  For the past five days it’s been blisteringly hot, like, as in some of the hottest weather I’ve ever experienced.  And I’ve from Florida, so that’s saying a lot.  I kinda feel like the city owes me some sort of reimbursement, ya know, or at least a certified apology.

As I wait for my check, I’m figuring out ways to make the best of it…

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Since I enjoy cooking, I hardly ever Sandra Lee-it. Meaning, I steer clear of store bought ingredients like pie crusts, biscuits, cookie dough, etc. I always find it easier to just make them myself, cheaper even and definitely healthier.

But I have a confession: I totally Sandra Lee-ed it on this pizza. I’ve been working like crazy lately and I wanted to enjoy the day outside rather than being locked inside forced to wait for this pizza dough to take its sweet-ass time rising.

I also didn’t want to slave over the stove for my marinara sauce to come out just right, or spend time shucking ears of corn–so I used the frozen stuff.  Yes, at the peak of its season I opted for the frozen stuff in my freezer. It was a pretty day, okay?

So I took Sandra Lee’s route, but only my way. Instead of going to the grocery store to get pizza dough, which is usually loaded with preservatives, I went to a local pizza place that I love and bought pizza dough from them for $3. I didn’t even know you could do this until a few months ago.

Then I bought some good quality, jarred marinara sauce; bought my other ingredients and had my pizza done in twenty-seven minutes flat.

Yes, twenty…seven. (I timed it.)

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A few things I will gladly admit I’m not good at:

Cutting my own bangs. It’s true. I tried it a few days ago because I was too lazy to drive 5 minutes to my hairdresser for a trim….aaaand now I’m grateful bobbi pins were invented. Not good at cutting bangs/fringe. Check.

I’m not good at moving furniture, lifting heavy boxes, using a drill, etc.  Last week I tried to hang curtains and broke out in a sweat which lead to lots of cursing. I’m convinced that this is why boys were invented.

Lastly (because I’m just about perfect at everything else), grilling stuff. There are so many variables with a charcoal grill. Where is the hottest part of the grill?  When are the coals hot enough? Why is there so much stupid smoke? Dangit, there isn’t a thermometer on the cover…blah blah blah. So basically what I’m saying is that this Grilled Breakfast Pizza stressed me out. But I did it. And it was totally worth it. And since I lived to tell about it, I can tell you exactly what you’re not supposed to do and everything you should do so you end up with an amazing pizza. Ready? Annnnd let’s begin….

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I find this strange enjoyment with ringing myself up at the grocery store’s self-checkout.  I love pressing the touchscreen, looking up produce numbers, and scanning each product’s bar code. After thinking about it for a bit, I realized it all goes back with my ambitions as a kid to be on Supermarket Sweep.  Do you remember that show? Oh my, how I wanted to wear one of those brightly-colored sweatshirts! And those gigantic name tags! Oh and my strategy. Umm…can we talk about the strategy that went into that game? Everyone knows that you go for the most expensive stuff in the store first. Like the turkeys or hams. And then you grab all the over-the-counter drugs, and then you move to the cereals or liters of soda. Man, they really need to bring that show back. It’s so 1990 in the most awesome way possible.

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