book which I've made before, and it's easy to make but needs to be started in advance. By starting the dough two days before you plan to use it, and storing it in the refrigerator after mixing and then after folding and turning, it develops great flavor.
During the week between Christmas and New Year’s, I became friends with the couch again. It had been a while since we’d spent time together, but we caught up and became comfortable pretty quickly. I don’t think I ever got around to napping, but I did read some cookbooks and food magazines and watch some television. As I sat lazily in front of the television one morning, pondering what we should enjoy for food on New Year’s Eve, there was a cooking show on that grabbed my attention. I can’t remember the last time I watched a cooking show and actually wanted to make what the host was making. What I was watching was Alex Guarnaschelli charring broccoli rabe to turn into a chunky pesto with garlic, olive oil, and parmesan. That pesto topped a pizza with cooked mushrooms and sliced, fresh mozzarella, and I liked this idea a lot. Our New Year’s Eve was going to be a simple stay at home affair with fun food like pizza and a couple of other snacks I’ll mention soon, and I immediately decided to steal Alex’s idea for how top our pizzas.
I’m glad I was lazy and sat around watching tv and learned about this pizza. The mushrooms and cheese and chunky pesto combined deliciously on top of the crispy, whole wheat crust. I probably should have chopped my broccoli rabe a little smaller, and I probably wasn’t quite generous enough with the olive oil in the pesto, but that’s ok because I’ll be making this so often I’ll eventually perfect the process. And, what all this really means is that I should start spending more time sitting on the couch.
There’s pizza and then there’s pizza, and for some reason the topic of authentic Neapolitan pizza keeps coming to my attention. In May, I took a stab at creating a homemade version with the help of the A16 book, and that was great, but it was nothing like sitting back and letting the pros create the real thing in a wood burning oven. Last year, while in Phoenix, we were lucky enough to dine at Pizzeria Bianco whose pizza has been called the best in the US. All the praise this place has received is well-deserved. I would happily go again and wait outdoors in the Arizona warmth for the doors to open and scurry forth in hopes of getting one of the coveted tables next time we visit the area. Now, here in Austin, we have some excellent restaurants and some fine options for pizza, but I’m afraid there’s nothing quite like that. That’s why I was excited to learn of a particular pizzeria located just down the road in San Antonio. In the June issue of Food and Wine, there was an article about pizza artisans from different parts of the country. One of those was the restaurant Dough. Not only do they make Neapolitan-style pizza, they are one of only 32 US restaurants with a certification from L’Associazione Vera Pizza Napoletana. I had to check it out to see what we had close to home. I wanted to find out how it compared to Pizzeria Bianco, and sample as much of the menu as possible. We don’t often find ourselves luxuriating over an Elizabeth David-esque three hour lunch, but if you can skip breakfast and work up a good appetite, it’s a lovely way to spend a Saturday.
We chose a bottle of Fattoria Rodano Chianti Classico Riserva 2001 which was nicely dry and tasted of blackberries. It was a good, sturdy red but not one that dominated the palate. We quite enjoyed it with the starters and pizzas. One of the specials was an imported Puglian burrata di bufala served with heirloom tomatoes, balsamic, basil pesto, and roasted garlic. The bread that came alongside was crunchy-crusted, house-made sourdough. We also sampled the smoked salmon rollatini in fett’unta with red onion and capers sitting on locally grown arugula. Then, the flatbread with oregano, thyme, and sea salt which is made from the same dough as the pizza, came with the antipasto platter that was filled with warm olives, roasted summer vegetables, three types of cheeses, and three types of cured meats. At my next dinner party, there will be warm olives. Last was the arugula salad with green beans, sliced potatoes, and parmigiano reggiano. There was nothing to complain about among these starters. The imported burrata was heavenly. That was the most difficult item with which to show restraint. We knew a lot more food was coming and that we needed to pace ourselves, but that cheese made it very difficult. So did the flatbread. The warm olives on the antipasto platter were buttery and irresistible, and the vegetables were not the afterthought they sometimes are on such platters. These were freshly roasted, warm, and perfectly seasoned. The salad was dressed with lemon juice and truffle oil, the arugula was incredibly fresh, and I could have continued eating that all day. It was a little aggressively seasoned as was the arugula under the salmon rollatini, but not to an extent of disappointment.
We moved on to the pizza. First was the pizza napoletana margherita with house-made fior di latte, heirloom tomatoes, parmigiano, and basil, and it was a beautiful thing. The ingredients were simple but perfect, and this was my favorite of the three we tried.
Next was the pork love pizza with tomato sauce, fior di latte, salami, sausage, pancetta, and speck. Based on Kurt’s reaction, this was one fine pizza. He enjoys meat from time to time but isn’t a huge pork fanatic. This pizza may have changed all that as he raved about this more than any other thing we sampled.
Last, we tried the puttanesca pizza with tomato sauce, fior di latte, rapini, garlic, olives, hot pepper flakes, anchovy, and extra virgin olive oil. This was a spicy, full-flavored pizza that wasn’t shy about the anchovy component. I like anchovies though, and the mixture of big flavors worked well. This was the opposite of the restrained margherita, but delicious in its boldness.
The parade of desserts started with panna cotta made with house-made creme fraiche, cream, and vanilla bean. It was served with raisins and bing cherries that had been cooked in marsala. We learned the restaurant had experimented with other panna cotta recipes before settling on this one which came from an employee’s Sicilian mother. There was also a scoop of peach gelato made with Fredericksburg peaches and a polenta cake with strawberry puree, creme anglaise, and whipped cream. There was, again, nothing to fault here, but it was the panna cotta that stole the show. The texture was perfect, the flavor was lovely vanilla cream, and the fruit in marsala added a nice, sweet-sour accent. Our espresso and cappuccino with dessert were both well-made, and I can be picky about my cappuccino.
There’s nothing better than crisp-crusted, cheese-bubbling pizza fresh out of a brick oven. But, when that goes into a box only to lose its crispness as each minute passes while being transported to my house, it’s not the same anymore. So, for pizza at home, I’d rather make my own. Every other week or so, on Friday evening, I’ll whip up my usual dough recipe, let it rise while doing other things, roll it into a big pizza-ish shape, and top it with tomato sauce, mushrooms, olives, and maybe spinach, or whatever other vegetables are sitting around and seem like pizza material, and cheese. But, since reading A16: Food + Wine, I’ve wanted to try the method presented in that book. It’s classic Neopolitan pizza, and there are instructions for the dough, the very simple sauce, and just a few topping options. The idea of classic Neopolitan pizza was reinforced when I read April’s La Cucina Italiana. And, that meant it was time to change up my routine.
The next step in the process was the sauce. I don’t know why, but it had never occurred to me that the fresh, light sauce I’ve loved so much on pizzas in restaurants was uncooked. To make the sauce as described in the book, you open a can of San Marzano tomatoes and pour them into a bowl. Squish them with your hands until the tomatoes are broken into small pieces, and add a little sea salt. That’s it. If the canned tomatoes are watery, pour off some water before you begin squishing.
This was definitely better than my regular pizza. The dough had developed more flavor from the longer, slower rising time. Of course, it lacked that amazing wood-fired flavor of a great pizza, but I’m just comparing it to my typical, homemade version. The chile oil was a knock-out. It was a rare pizza experience during which I didn’t miss the cheese. The simple sauce was perfect. That’s all a pizza sauce needs to be. And, the wine worked very nicely with the spicy, salty pizza toppings. The Falanghina was a balanced wine with a little crispness but also good body. It wasn’t as crisp as a Sauvignon Blanc and not as buttery as a Chardonnay, but it fell somewhere in between and deliciously so.
so many times that I’ve memorized the technique. Warm water, instant yeast, whole wheat flour, and unbleached all purpose flour are combined in a bowl. Olive oil, salt, pepper, and more flour are added. Adding pepper is my own touch. I like pepper, and the specks in the dough are pretty. Stir until dough comes together, then turn out onto a floured surface and knead until smooth. Place in an oiled bowl, cover with a towel, and let rise for an hour or longer. So, my process is: make dough, read a book or go to the gym or water the garden for an hour or two, then punch down dough, knead it a few times, and let it rest while prepping the toppings and heating the oven to 475. for a smoked salmon pizza. This is found in the Tortilla Pizzas section. Obviously, I didn’t use a tortilla for the crust, but I did opt for the smaller round of dough baked on the stone. A tortilla sounds like a great idea for a really quick pizza, but I think it would be extremely thin and unwieldy. This section in the book also includes directions for curing your own salmon, but here I took the easy way out and used store-bought, wild sockeye, smoked salmon. 
I baked a round of dough, let it cool to room temperature, and topped it as Pepin suggested. Sour cream was combined with horseradish, the salmon was draped on top, thin slices of red onion were added, provencal olives were strewn about, and a sprinkling of chopped basil and sea salt and pepper completed it. (As a side note, my fabulous cherry pitter works very well for olives too.) 
The pizza was excellent. Crispy, thin, whole wheat crust capably supported the cool, salty, pungent, delicious toppings. The horseradish with the salmon and then the bite of the olive; well, it was so very good. It occurred to me that this would make great party food. The pizza could be assembled, cut into bite-sized pieces in advance, and kept chilled. 
What happened with the remaining pizza dough? Two other creations followed. First, parmigiana with basil, Aleppo pepper, olive oil, and sea salt. 
Then, anchovy, olive oil, rosemary, and Aleppo pepper. Both of these were delicious, but the smoked salmon pizza was the star of the show. This parade of pizzas filled our evening with a lot of crunchy, savory, contented eating. 
Up next on the food tour was the amazing Pizzeria Bianco which is tucked into a tiny historic commercial building with the bar residing in an historic house next door. It’s a little difficult to locate because the street is closed to traffic, but it’s near the museums, and therefore parking is easy. The bar opens at four in the afternoon, and people arrive then to have a drink and await the restaurant’s five o’clock opening. The restaurant seats exactly 42 people including seats at the bar, and they don’t take reservations. We were there at a little after four on a Wednesday, and when the front doors opened, everyone smooshed into a crowed ball of a line hoping to get a table. 
When it was our turn with the hostess, four seats at the bar were all that remained. We took two of those and had a good view of the wood oven where owner Chris Bianco was hard at work. The menu is simple and straightforward with a couple of appetizers and salads and a handful of pizza options. 
We started with the antipasto platter of grilled zucchini, sliced roasted beets, grilled porcini, roasted red peppers, roasted potatoes, olives, salami, and pecorino. This was served with the best country bread ever. 
The bread had a perfect crunchy crust and was chewy inside. Kurt ordered the Sonny Boy pizza which comes with tomato sauce, fresh mozzarella, salami, gaeta olives, and he had fennel sausage added. I went with the Sonny Boy with the salami removed and replaced with crimini mushrooms. 
Excellent pizza, excellent crust, perfect toppings! Our espresso and cappuccino for dessert were very well made as well.
Here I enjoyed a tomato and butterbean soup which I will attempt to re-create at home. Kurt partook of the smoked salmon crostini with red onion, arugula, and a horseradish cream. Horseradish cream was great with the salmon. Maybe my version will involve a roasted potato slice with horseradish cream then topped with smoked salmon. Back to the meal: 
My lobster risotto with porcini and white truffle essence was very good, although if I were a complainer, I’d mention that it was slightly under seasoned. Kurt’s swordfish over squash puree with green bean salad was delicious. Dessert was a hot chocolate cake with crème fraiche whipped cream and caramel.
On our way to the airport with a few hours to kill, we lunched at Stax Burger Bistro. They offer a menu of mini burgers and baskets of sides to share. 
My plate hosted a salmon burger and a veggie burger and Kurt’s a salmon burger and a lamb burger. We shared a basket of tots. Great concept, tasty food. The salmon burgers were a little dry, but the ingredients were fresh and lovely. I also loved the iced green tea.
