Marriage. Marriage is what brings us together today.
Marriage. That bwessed awangement. Dat dweam within a dweam-
Ahem, sorry. Sometimes The Princess Bride just seems to come all busting out of me like that scary hot dog looking monster from Alien. I do it too with random quotes from Monty Python and pretty much any line from Blazing Saddles.* Don’t worry though, the Princess does actually pertain to today’s post. I would never dream of getting off track and just quoting movie lines to you all willy nilly.
(The lawyer just rolled his eyes. You know, if you do that enough, they’ll STICK that way FOREVER. Who’s gonna listen to you then, with eyes all over the place? HUH? )
Sunday was Father’s Day, you know. It is a day to spoil the hubster and make sure he stays prone on the couch for what I think is an abnormally long amount of time. He doesn’t need to mow the lawn or fix the dryer or even brush his teeth. We cater to his every whim.
Well, for about an hour or so, then it’s back to reality.
And our reality is this:
You wanna relax on the couch for twenty minutes or so. = Full body slam by five year old.
You try to actually shut your eyes while on the couch for twenty minutes or so = Four year old hops on too.
You somehow manage to slip into a small snooze on the couch = Cat joins the fun and sneezes on you with fishy breath.
Anything longer than twenty minutes on that couch = Body slam thing again with bonus knee in the groin!
Once we have figured out that really, we are never going to get a decent nap in again, the malaise sets in. This is unacceptable for Father’s Day, so I remedy it the only way I know how:
COPIOUS AMOUNTS OF FOOD.
First, I started with the balls. Peanut butter balls, ya’ll. Because, as we are so fond of saying around here:
“You can never have too many balls.” (This just never gets old, I tell you.)
EXTREME CLOSEUP OF THE BALLS! What? The lawyer says this is somewhat inappropriate… Why? It’s simply a picture of the hubster’s balls.
(The lawyer is freaking out here. Sigh. He keeps saying, “family friendly!” and “What is your problem?” and “double entendre, dufus!!” but since I think anyone who uses French phrases in normal speak is an even bigger dufus, I ignored him. Besides, he’s bourgeoisie.
I do realize that the above balls are not.. ahem… roundish. They are not balls at all. They are peanut butter, uh… wads? But still, so tasty!
The other item I decided to make for the hubster was his favorite dinner: deep dish pizza. It earned major points for his Father’s Day, which is totally the key here. The points are important, friends. Those of you are married know what I’m getting at.
MARRIAGE IS A COMPETITION AT ALL TIMES FOR WHO IS THE NICEST.
Currently I am in the lead, but I have to fight for this position all the time. The hubster’s affability is simply mind boggling, and if I’m gonna stay ahead of the game I gotta use food.
Momsie’s Deep Dish Pizza Pie (said with a thick, Sophia Loren accent):
1 tablespoon active dry yeast
2 tsp. sugar or honey (I use brown sugar)
1 1/2 cups warm water
2-3 cups flour (I use all purpose, but bread flour or half mixed with wheat works great)
2 tsp. salt
little bit of melted butter – 1/4 cup or so? (not salted if possible. If you use salted, reduce the salt in the recipe to taste.)
2 tablespoons butter
3/4 cup sauce (I make homemade but any jar variety will work here)
a good handful of onions, pepperoni, olives, pepperoncini, and mushrooms, fresh basil, spinach, mushrooms… (but do saute the mushrooms first because they release too much liquid of put in raw), and whatever else floats your pizza pie.
1 cup mozzarella cheese
garlic powder and maybe a bit of this stuff:
The canister says “Great on Everything” and Tony wouldn’t lie!
Directions for Making Points:
Proof the yeast by sprinkling it in the warm water with the sugar (I use only 1 1/4 cup and save the last 1/4 cup or so for later if the dough is not soft enough).
After about 10 minutes when yeast is all bubbly, I stir in 2 cups flour and salt and a bit of melted butter if I am feeling up for melting it. If I am lazy, I leave it out, or add a bit of good olive oil. I then stir with a wooden spoon until the dough “clears” the bowl. If it seems too stiff – add a bit of water. If too sticky, add flour… It’s a “feel” thing. The dough should clear the bowl nicely, but not feel like a lump of lead.
Shape into a ball and place in a greased bowl (I just use the same one I made the dough in) and cover with a towel. Leave in a warm place for 45 minutes or so to allow to rise.
Punch down dough and allow to rest for about 20 – 30 minutes (in bowl still). While doing so, preheat oven to 400 degrees F. Melt 2 tablespoons butter in cast iron skillet. Prep your pie items: chop onions, mince basil, shred up mozzarella, etc.
(Savings tip: Buy mozzarella in BULK and cut it up yourself. You don’t even have to shred it, just slice the stuff. It will make the same pie, I promise. And, if you are as cheese crazy as we are, you’ll save like 4oo dollars a month in cheese money.)
Press dough into and up the sides of the prepared skillet. “Stipple” the dough with your fingertips to break up air pockets. Spread pizza sauce around the base of the crust and sprinkle with half mozzarella cheese over sauce; layer it with all your fixins, and finish with the last of the cheese. If you’re feeling fancy, sprinkle with a bit of garlic powder and Tony C’s.
Bake at preheated oven for 25 minutes, until bubbly and brown. If you are feeling REALLY frisky, brush crust with butter and garlic when done. Make sure husband is able to smell this loveliness as it comes out of the oven.
Here’s the really hard part: LET IT SIT ABOUT 5 MINUTES BEFORE YOU EAT IT. You have been warned.
And that, my friends, is how you achieve gold star, level awesome, super star, I-win-at-everything status.
We did not wait 5 minutes. It was worth the pain though.
*By the way, I do try, most of the time, to lay easy on the Blazing Saddles references with the sweet little ones around. It is possible Mel Brooks is not quite toddler material. Any quoting of him prior to 7 pm means Momsie loses points, big time.