Practice Makes Perfect

I must brag about myself a little bit though with some humility because everyone can do something well, and this is my something. Over the past few years I have become quite the pizza maker. It started from my love of playing with bread dough, adding, shaping, copying what I had seen and tasted. Though I really haven't spent much time baking since I became a nurse, it is like riding a bicycle and I can jump right back in when I have the time and desire.

I think making pizza started because the dough is the easiest to make. With some bread flour, yeast, salt, olive oil, hot tap water, a little beating and kneading and a warm place to rise, you can do anything! This morning I made enough dough for a couple of them, and while knoshing on the first realized if I had eaten it in a pizza joint, I would definitely have to come back for more. The second was just as good. It had only a faint smear of homemade tomato sauce, baby portobello mushrooms, fresh spinach, red onion, light mozzarella and romano cheeses, goat cheese and some of the dried oregano from Stu and Paige's garden. Heavenly.

I just kept at it, one pizza after another, until I became good at it. Two of my sons are also making delicious pizzas, learned from their mom. The down side is that restaurant pizza is no longer appealing. I guess I will have to stick with ordering Mexican. I am not going to learn to make chili rellenos, chimichangas or margaritas, letting the preparation remain a mystery.