I'm a little teapot, short and stout, here is my handle and here is my crust? Fuck. Wait a minute. I'm a pizza.

I would just like to mention, before I say anything, that I am currently watching Point Break on Fuse. This is:

1. fucked up since I work for MTV Networks and will probably get me fired.
2. The only thing on since, really, if Michael Phelps isn't on the Olympics, it's like who cares.
3. I am way too full to get up right now and go outside
4. VIA CON DIOS BRAH

1. Needs no discussion. My boss is a total ogre. But only in World of Warcraft.
2. Lets face it: Everyone loves a winner.
3. Holy shit pizza.
4. You're welcome Jim.

Santa Monica Airport Fast! But there's only one problem. We can't arrest them. Or shoot them.

Pizza. Holy shit pizza.

One of my favorite ways to plan what to make for dinner is to ask Julie what she wants to eat. I know it sounds simple, but she will occasionally ask for things that I've never made before and I feel like she's just challenging me. This morning Julie asked me to make her pizza. I figured, hey, why not. Especially since we had just gotten back from the farmers market with a plethora of amazing produce: tomatoes, basil, fennel, red onions, beets, lettuce, carrots, peppers, leeks, hot peppers, string beans, fresh goats milk feta; the list is nearly endless.

Now, admittedly, I've tried to make pizza once before. The less I talk about it the better off we all are. It never even got past the dough phase (post-mortem diagnosis: too much water in the dough.) This time I resolved to do better. I used bread flour and about 1/4 cup less of water than I had before. It all came to be around 3 cups of bread flour, 2 tablespoons olive oil, 2 teaspoons kosher salt and 1 teaspoon of instant yeast. Put it together in the food processor and added the water until the dough just became a ball and then let it go for a bit, took it out and kneaded for a few minutes on the counter. I set it in an oiled bowl covered with a damp towel for a few hours. After two hours I took it out of the bowl, punched it down and wrapped it very tightly in plastic wrap and put it in the fridge.

4 hours later I took the dough out and left it on the counter as I set about caramelizing some of the fennel and red onions in a little bit of olive oil. After about 12 minutes I deglazed the pan with about a 1/2 cup of white wine and let it boil down to a thick syrup. I then put the oven on 525°F and set about handling the dough.

In no way, shape nor form was this photo entirely staged. Seriously. I had that dough spinning like a merry-go-round.

OK. I'm gonna come clean. I used a rolling pin for the most part. I did some stretching by hand and a little bit of local-corner-pizza-shop-on-your-knuckles spinning, but really? This was done by a rolling pin. I mean I can barely play frisbee. There was no way I was going to let my hard-won dough fly off into a pile of cat fur or the recycling. After rolling out the pizza, I laid them in my two cast iron pans. I figure the cast iron was gonna capture and retain heat way better than any sort of sheet pan I had (no pizza stone), and it would give the crust some much needed heat.

I mean, really, when you think about it, veganism is just total bullshit posturing. Look at that smoked mozzarella. You look at that and tell me you don't want to eat it. And I'll look at you and know I'm looking at a liar.

Now that I had the dough out of the way, it was time for the toppings. Pizza number one had sliced tomatoes and goats feta, drizzled with a little bit of olive oil and then hit with basil when it came out. Pizza number two was the caramelized fennel and onions, chopped tomato and smoked mozzarella with a drizzle of olive oil and then hit with fennel fronds when it came out.

I know, I took a lot of photos. It's ok. I then ate a lot of pizza.

Holy.

Shit.

Bullshit egoism aside, this may have been one of the best meals I have ever made. I had the pizzas in the oven for about 16 minutes total. When they came out the dough was crunchy and crisp on the outside and pleasantly chewy on the crust. You could pick up the slice and eat it with out of hand. The toppings where a perfect foil to each other with the sweetness of the fennel and onions countering the acidity from the tomato and the smokiness of the cheese giving it just enough depth. The basic tomato and feta pie may have been even better — just as simple as you can get.

Oh yeah, and there was salad.