Homemade Pizza Dough
Our Valentine’s Day Pizza. This dough recipe made 3 of these personal sized pizzas! I’ve been told I can do heart shaped pizzas anytime I want to. Like, say, next week. *wink*
Recently, I tweeted something about making homemade pizza and a friend asked for the recipe. I went searching on the blog for it, since I was certain I had blogged the recipe at some point in the past. Especially considering we have homemade pizza nearly every Friday night; it’s our tradition. (Barring any big national holidays)
However, I was dumbfounded to discover that in all the years of making pizza I’ve never posted the dough recipe. So, let’s remedy that!
Like all bread dough recipes, this does take some effort. Typically, I start around 4 pm and we eat pizza by 6:30. So far, after years of eating it, we still love it — I guess it’s worth the time investment to keep up the tradition! The process is easy, so don’t let the time investment deter you.
I found a version of this recipe online years ago: however, I have no memory of where. Somewhere along the way I modified the recipe a bit, memorized it, and never looked back. It’s not a thin chewy crust, this is more like a deep dish, bread pizza. My family prefers that, so it works for us.
The recipe will make one large baking sheet sized pizza. Or (on Valentine’s Day) 3 really large heart-shaped pizzas!
I apologize for the lack of photos. But alas, during the winter, by the time we actually eat dinner the light has long past fled for the next day. So, use your imagination! Recipe under the jump.
Pie? Pie!
So pretty! Just wanted to share. I hope your weekend is amazing!!
Armed and Dangerous
Resisting the urge to hoard these for the pretty colors.
Early in our marriage, IZ and I lived in Seattle, on Queen Anne Hill. Our little rentals was within walking distance of Kinnear Park, so to avoid the parking mess, we would pack a thermos of coffee and our homemade cherry pie and walk to the park on the 4th of July to watch the fireworks. We would huddle up together, because traditionally Summer does not arrive until July 5th in the Pacific Northwest, wrapped in a blanket or two and wait for the best show of the year. Happy to have our warm coffee. Elated to be watching the night sky light up so beautifully with the city as a backdrop. Oh, I love that one best. No, no, that one. Relieved to be able to walk home and avoid all the crazy drunk drivers after the show.
There is just something about big display fireworks that gets me every time. Our tradition was such a huge part of our life, that when dear friends of ours invited us to join their 4th of July tradition when Geo was 7, I wasn’t so sure. We accepted the invitation immediately, but then we worried ourselves. Would we miss the big show? Would we feel the same, to not be making a trek to a park with coffee and pie in hand?
But off we went. And sitting on a quiet street, on a warm night, (for life had moved us to a balmier California!) we sipped champagne and watched our child experience the ridiculously wonderful and dangerous fun of home fireworks. Be careful! Let an adult light that! We didn’t miss the big show, the one in front of us was entertaining in its own fashion. And for the next few years, it would be the way we did things.
This is the nature of traditions. They grow with us. The practice of keeping traditions deepens our relationships with those who also keep them with us. But we would be fools to not be willing to change with the times. To not recognize the need to do something different. It’s not that we jettison the past with indifference. We simply bring that best part of us to this new way of being. Our faithfulness allows something new to emerge. It is the practice that is worth keeping. No matter what the practice might include. And we will look back on it, and see it as the beginning of a new tradition.
In many ways, our 4th of July traditions have come full circle. We can see the town’s firework display from our porch, and we snuggle up under blankets and drink coffee and eat pie and take in the beauty. Oh! I love that one best. No, no, that one. Oooh. . . so pretty.
We have moved far from friends on quiet balmy streets, but we still are armed and dangerous— we still sip champagne and watch our child tempt fate. Be careful! Don’t set the house on fire. Oh, I love that one best.
May Day Gifts: Fabric Wrapped Potted Plants
Who doesn’t love a sweet Viola wrapped up in vintage fabric and baker’s twine?
It’s hard to believe May is nearly here. I usually give little bouquets of lilacs to our neighbors for May Day—trimmed from our massive lilac in the back yard. But this year my tree is looking a bit put upon. Every time I venture into the backyard with shears it says, in what I imagine to be the most perfect of southern drawls, “You’re friendly with HOW many neighbors? You’re planning to cut HOW many bouquets?”
My lilac tree might have a point this year. New energy has moved onto our street and we’ve mended fences with others. The number of May Day gifts are growing past what my tree can endure without feeling naked when I’m done. Clearly, it’s time to plant more lilacs!
So, this year for May Day, I decided to wrap up some adorable violas in a stash of vintage hankies and pocket squares I’ve been hoarding. I love the result, don’t you? It’s an easy project to do! And you could just as easily use a bit of fabric if you don’t have hankies floating about. (Just pink the edges for a pretty touch and keep the edges from fraying too soon.)
I still need to find small tags to put on these lovelies; but then, I have until tomorrow. Nothing like a bit of procrastination.
Want to know how I made these? There’s a wee tutorial below the jump. And really, you still have time to spread a little joy in your neighborhood tomorrow.
