Monday, June 20, 2011

How Time Flies

It's been almost a year since I last wrote. I think back and try to recall everything that has happened, why I stopped writing and my progress a year later. The year I made a New Year's Resolution, was the "only" year I every kept it. I was so proud of myself, then I let money get the better of me and I started working long hours, I baked only on the weekends. My biking never suffered as I rode every other day, but once winter hit the dust accumulated on my bike. I saw so many people bundled up out there biking and called myself wimpy. Surely if they could do it I could right? Still there was something about the cold stinging my face and the chance of hitting ice that keep me from braving the long winter months. Oh well I told myself, I would make up for it when summer came. Here it is June and I can count on one hand the number of times I have biked. It's discouraging but I'm trying to get out more.

In April my two younger children turned a year older. I can no longer call them children as they are teenagers I am reminded of often. My son wanted a birthday party and planned it himself. He asked me if I would make my pizza for his friends. Imagine how thrilled I was to make my pizza, yet concerned at the same time because I still to this day have not found the best pizza crust recipe. I was determined to make the best of it no matter what. There were six teenagers all together the night of his party. The apartment had been decorated with balloons, crate paper and confetti. I was in the kitchen, flour flying every where. Soon the kids were eating, laughing and playing games, no comment about the pizza they were eating. Slice after slice disappeared and still nothing. Were they eating because they were teenagers and would eat anything? Perhaps they were all starving and didn't care what it tasted like. I was driving myself crazy! Finally I stepped out of the kitchen and said "So how is the pizza guys?" Immediately a swarm of compliments directed my way overtook me and I smiled with delight. They liked my pizza! One young man in particular said "it was the best home-made pizza he had ever eat." I thought yes, yes, I know it will never be like a pizzeria. I had been defeated, the pizza recipe was not the issue it was the oven and fact I could not make my oven hotter. I had tried various ways to increase the temperature but to avail none worked. I could not tear apart the oven and alter the temperature, first because I do not know how, secondly I live in an apartment and run the risk of getting into trouble. So I did the next best thing, I bought a grill.

This was not just any grill and definitely not a gas grill. I did not want pizza tasting like gas. I purchased one that could use charcoal or wood. Several attempts using wood made the pizza taste smoked like bacon. At first the flavor was different almost appealing, however, our tastes buds could stand only so much smoke. After a while the taste was sickening and we abandoned the grill method. I was back to where I began. Two months later I am sitting on my couch thinking I could make pizza for my kids and freeze them. Then they wouldn't ask me to buy those disgusting frozen pizzas from the grocery store. They could pop one of Mom's in the oven and ta-da home-made pizza. That's it! I smacked myself on the head, where was my brain when my son's friend said "this is the best home-made pizza he had ever had." Right there in front of my face was the answer. I'm never going to make pizza like pizzeria because I don't have the right equipment, but what I did discover was the best "home-made" pizza. I've tried so many pizza crust recipes and basically they're all the same. There are a few differences and I've found one that we enjoy the most. I have been so absorbed with finding not only the "right" recipe but the best way to cook it so it would taste just like it came from a pizzeria. I've come oh so close but never exactly. No matter because every time I make my pizza my kids devour it and I am left with only crumb to wipe up. I smile as I walk out of the kitchen knowing they just ate the best "home-made" pizza.