Pizza Night

Last night, I slept over at my sister's house. She had arrived extremely late (or should I say extremely early?) on her flight from Denver (around 1:00 a.m.), and I, monstrously generous fool that I am, I volunteered to go pick her up from the airport. Consequently, by the time I got her back to her house, it really was too late for me to go home. We talked for a while, and it was around 3:00 or 3:30 a.m. before "I was well upon my way to sleep" (from Robert Frost's "After Apple-Picking"). Right now, the phrase "I am overtired" is something of an understatement (Ibid.).

This morning when I arose (I have no idea when, although I think it was later than usual), I immediately set about removing the snow from my sister's driveway, pulling back the pavement's crystalline blanket and launching it onto the lawn (Of course, I also threw some of it onto the neighbor's lawn, as well; goodness knows his was already snow-covered too and he surely wouldn't notice the addition of a few shovelfuls). Soon thereafter, I completed the work only to watch as a few more snow clouds rolled in and shook the icy mothballs from the folds of their misty raiment, supplying the driveway with a fresh set of powdery linen. I was incensed and wished I had waited a while longer before trying to do my daily good turn. However, "I am no prophet" (from T.S. Eliot's "The Love Sone of J. Alfred Prufrock), so how could I have known in advance that my work would have been in vain? (Note: The correct answer is, Watch the weather forecast, dummy)

But surely you went back and removed the snow from the subsequent storm, didn't you? you ask. Of course I did.

Not.

Actually, I went back in the house and did what I normally do "when the weather outside is frightful" (from the song "Let It Snow, Let It Snow, Let It Snow").

Let us guess, you say. Did you read a book?

Uh, nope.

Did you play video games?

Well, yeah, but that's not the answer I was looking for.

Did you pull a "Risky Business" and dance around the house in your underwear with Bob Seger playing in the background?

How did you gue...No, that's not it either. But I'll have to remember to do that the next times it snows. Hey, what do you know? It's snowing right now. Perfect.  I think it's time to "take those old records off the shelf," if you know what I mean (from Bob Seger's "Old Time Rock and Roll").

We give up, you say at last, after a few minutes of profound contemplation. What do you do "when the weather outside is frightful"?

Let's just, if "it doesn't show signs of stopping", that when I start pizza-topping. That's right, you heard it correctly. This morning, I made one large deep dish pizza with four kinds of cheese, Italian dry salami, and citrus chicken. Yummy to my over-sized tummy.

Well, how do you make this pizza, you silly man? you ask eagerly, while your salivary glands begin excreting so much fluid that you look like a teething toddler with drool all over your chin and the front of your shirt. Tell us, tell us, please.

Alright, you greedy little fiends, "How should I begin?" (from T.S. Eliot's "The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock").

Pizza with Salami and Citrus Chicken

Crust:

1 cup warm water
1 Tbsp. yeast
1 Tbsp. white sugar.
3 Tbsp. brown sugar
1 tsp. salt.
2 Tbsp. olive oil
2 1/2 to 3 cups of all-purpose flour

Chicken:

1 large chicken breast (don't hold the chicken; I'm warning you)
Parsley flakes
Cayenne pepper
Minced garlic
Minced onion
Malabar black pepper
Salt
Brown sugar
1/2 can of Fresca

Other toppings:

8-12 oz. of Kraft Italian cheese mix
12 pieces of Italian dry salami

Sauce:

Hunt's Original Spaghetti sauce

or

1/2 can of stewed Italian tomatoes


Begin by making the crust. Combine the yeast and warm water. Add the sugar and and salt. Let it git all foamy an' stuff. When it looks sufficiently foamy, add the oil and one cup of flour. Mix with a fork (I know, I know, some of you don't wanna hand mix and knead the dough, but I'm asking you to do yourself and your young'uns a favor right now. Now, mix!). Add flour in cup and half-cup increments and mix until the dough ceases to be sticky. Now, and this is the important part, knead the living h--- outta that there dough with your fingers for 8-10 minutes. If it starts to stick a little to the counter, add a little more flour. By the end, all of those tiny little lumps should "vanish in air" (from film "An Affair to Remember"). Put the dough back in the bowl and cover until the dough doubles in size. Put it into a large baking sheet and flatten it.

While all of this is going on, your half-frozen chicken breast (again, do not hold the chicken) should be in a large covered saucepan, frying up jist dandy on medium-low heat (Note: I say use a frozen or half-frozen chicken breast because most people don't have them fresh anyway, not to mention that frozen chicken will let out a lot more water as it's cooking so the chicken will be moister.) Cover it with all of your spices. After it has cooked for five minutes, add the Fresca. Let it continue frying until the chicken is done. Turn off the stove and let the chicken rest in it's own juices for ten minutes (Note: I know that sounds gross, but trust me it's for the chicken own good). Cut the chicken into little pieces.

Spread the tomatoes or spaghetti sauce, not too thickly, on the crust. Put on the cheese and the chicken and the salami. Preheat the overn to 425 degrees. Bake the pizza for 16-17 minutes. Enjoy.

And I mean that.

If you aren't enjoying it, you either did something wrong with the pizza, or there's something wrong with you. In any case, buon appetito! (Disclaimer: Don't get addicted to this recipe; otherwise, you'll put on so many extra pounds that you'll look like you're constantly doing the Care Bear Stare).