Chapter 30 - Making Pizza

According to Boy: Within the first month of our marriage, we discovered Chef Boyardee Pizza. From that day on, I doubt we have gone longer than a month without having pizza. Usually we had (and still have) pizza once a week. That adds up to over 2000 pizzas. Assuming a minimum of fifteen slices of pepperoni on each pizza, that would be 30,000 pieces of the spicy sausage, over half of which I consumed. It’s a miracle my heart can still pump blood.

I’m not sure how we got started with them. Probably we were just walking through the A&P, and accidently knocked the little Chef Boyardee Pizza box off the shelf and into our cart. Then we each assumed the other had wanted it. Perhaps it was a little more deliberate than that—perhaps not.

Our first undertaking at making pizza was on a Friday after work, and was conducted exactly as the directions dictated. Because I was the one that usually cooked, it is a miracle that the directions were ever regarded, even the first time. Most likely Evie read them to me. With that first Friday evening pizza adventure, a new tradition had been initiated.

Even though I have not made a Chef Boyardee Pizza in many years, I think I still remember almost exactly how it was done:

First, I would dump the envelope containing the crust components into a third of a cup of warm water, and stir the powder into the warm water until it became a sticky ball. Then I would let that set (covered) for about twenty minutes in a warm place. I found that the best place to set the dough was on top of the range, while it was pre-heating to 425 degrees Fahrenheit.

Next, I would open the two cans that came in the package—the larger can contained the pizza sauce, and in the smaller some chopped mozzarella. It was important to open the two cans early on, because it was never a given that we would be able to locate an operational can opener. Sometimes I would have to punch holes in the end of the can with a steak knife, and shake the contents out.

So, with both cans somewhat opened, the dough rising, and the oven heating, I would unscrew the cap off a bottle of Red Ripple, and pour the sugary wine into two glasses. If it was not already cold, I would plop in a couple ice cubes.

Evie and I would toast to the official start of the weekend. I think our kitchen was what singer/songwriter Jonathan Edwards had in mind when he sang "Shanty."

Gonna sit down in the kitchen

And fix me something good to eat

And make my head a little high

And make this whole day complete

‘cause we gonna lay around the shanty, mama

And put a good buzz on

At this point, the party had started, but the pizza was not yet in the oven. When the twenty-minute incubation period was over, Evie would butter a cookie sheet, and I would butter my hands.

I would reach into the dough bowl, and scoop out the sticky soon-to-be pizza crust, and plop it into the middle of the cookie sheet. After rubbing more butter on my hands, I would flatten out the dough until it covered the entire cookie sheet, including the edges.

Then, I would pour the pizza sauce over the crust, spreading it out with a tablespoon.

Next, I would sprinkle on the cheese, and slide it into the hot oven. I think the directions called for twenty-five minutes in the hot oven, but it was always better to pick up a corner of the pizza with a spatula after twenty minutes or so, and check to see if it was slightly browned on the bottom. If it was brown, and if it did not bend too easily, the pizza was probably done.

After baking a few Chef Boyardee Pizzas by the book, we started to improvise. First, we found that we could buy pizza sauce separately. That allowed us to make our pizzas a little thicker.

Next, we found one-pound chunks of mozzarella in the cheese section of the grocery store. We would shred about one-third of the block, and sprinkle it over the pizza. That addition made our homemade pizzas a lot more like those served in pizza shops.

We soon realized that the pizzas were better if we put the sauce on after adding the mozzarella. That way the cheese was not as likely to burn.

By the third or fourth pizza, we were including sliced fresh mushrooms, fresh onions, hand-sliced pepperoni, and jalapeño peppers (jalapenos only on half). We experimented with green peppers, but neither Evie nor I were terribly enamored with that addition. So that improvising soon ended.

We stuck with this recipe for a couple years, and then started experimenting again. One of our pizza adventures consisted of all the before-mentioned toppings (with the exception of green peppers), but using sliced eggplant for the crust.

I think we dipped the slices in raw egg, and then in cornmeal. But I am not totally certain about the cornmeal. I am not sure why we ever did this, but I think it might have had something to do with the perceived carbs in the Chef Boyardee crusts. It might also have been to save money. If you think about it, by the time our pizza recipe had evolved, we actually had no need for the Chef Boyardee Pizza mix, except for the crust. I think we may have made only a dozen eggplant pizzas before reverting to the Chef’s box once again.

By the time we were ready to evolve from New Yorkers to Philadelphians, our pizza recipe was fixed. We were always using the Chef’s components, with our additions. The only thing that changed was the amount of oregano we sprinkled over it.

We would always make just enough to cover the cookie sheet, and we would almost always polish it off, along with a bottle of Ripple, on a Friday night. Seldom was there any pizza left to stick in the fridge.

If there was, you can bet that it was because Ev and I had "hit the sack."