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Pizza Tossing and Homemade Greatness

January 25, 2012

I just returned from a trip to Georgia to visit an old friend of mine I had met in training before I took my little vacation in Afgnahistan 5 years ago. Refreshed from a little step out of the norm, I returned to work ready to rock.

Tonight was pizza night. Right up my alley. I have worked a pizza station in a restaurant before and I toss a pretty decent pie. As a matter of fact, that was my first demonstration tonight. Instead of standing in front of a 700 degree brick oven attempting to not cover onlookers with semolina, I was in front of a class of 18 hungry students attempting to not hit the overhead mirrors with flying disks of dough.

The class was utter chaos, dough and flour clinging to every square inch of exposed skin and caked on the top of my clog-style shoes for crews. We interrupted feverish tossing of dough and generous topping slathering with desserts and salad dressing demonstrations. Rebecca stuffed strawberries with chocolate mousse and gilded the lily, dipping the chocolate filled strawberries in even more chocolate (no complaints were heard). I made an Italian ice cream cake (I forget the name at the moment, and every moment someone asked me for it). It was basically a bowl lined with sliced pound cake, brushed with the liquor of your choice, filled with ice cream, and ribboned with caramels and fudge.

The salad dressing was a creamy vinaigrette, that is sort of my thing. This time it was kind of a throwback that only I would get in that particular room.  In culinary school we man a student restaurant for a short amount of time. One of the dressings was a caramelized shallot emulsion. I recreated that tonight with Sherry vinaigrette and it was loved by many (I can tell by the way they came forward and asked me for the recipe).

After the flour cloud settled and the sweeping and dish washing were completed I headed home with a lump of dough and some scraps of toppings and commenced to creating my own dinner to accompany my night of homework. My pizza was simple, first, I dusted my counter with rye flour (not traditional, but I love it), tossed my little beauty into the air until a picturesquely  thin specimen of pizza perfection. I then brushed it with my crushed red pepper oil (also a practice I stole from the restaurant I tossed pizza), and topped it with roasted garlic cloves, oven roasted tomatoes, freshly torn basil, brie, and mozzerella. It was a dinner of champions I assure you. I washed it down with a hearty red and finished my reading for my current history course. It’s nearly 1am and certainly time for bed. I bid you adieu.

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From → The Good Stuff

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