One thing I like about King Arthur Flour is that they get that so much about food and baking is nostalgic. Frequently in The Baker’s Companion, they talk about the history of certain baked goods, especially going on about special treats of a New England childhood. As an Iowa girl, I don’t necessarily wax nostalgic about the same foods, but reading the book, I did uncover some memories of family baking and family food.
I am not remotely Italian. But as a not-atypical American, I’ve eaten a lot of pizza. Christmas Eve in my house meant pizza and reading the Christmas story, complete with typos from the version my mom typed up when I was little. In high school, my family did Pizza Fridays. And in my married life, where I’ve done most of the cooking, pizza is a safe bet, always comfortable and delicious, whether baked or ordered from the ubiquitous Casey’s.
Mostly, I’ve used Alton Brown’s pizza crust recipe, and more recently had success with KAF’s discard sourdough starter pizza crust. But last night, I tried their no-knead deep dish pizza from the book. It was the first time I’ve tried making deep dish pizza since being married, and it won’t be the last.
The whole no-knead thing made this a very easy pizza, and the wait time for rising was less than with many other recipes. I don’t have any of the optional semolina flour at the moment, but I’d like to try again to see if that affects flavor or texture more.
I’ll take my pizza thin and crispy, floppy, thick and fluffy, heck, even in bagel form. But I’m a fan of the thick, fluffy texture of this crust. Soft, pillowy, crisp around the edges, a good density for supporting the toppings. It ended up being kind of a pizza bread.
I freestyled the toppings with our usual–sausage, onion, more cheese than recommended, torn spinach on my side. I also failed as a blogger and didn’t get a photo of the finished product, because we were hungry and it smelled good, and it was gone before I thought of it. Yes, the entire 9×13-inch pan of pizza was gone in one evening, with two people eating. That’s the dark side of pizza, nostalgia or no.