15 minutes later...
Finally, i reached a point where the dough seemed to resemble that which mom used to pull from her Cuisinart. However, the issue of my hands practically becoming a part of the dough was a little disconcerting. Had I killed the yeast? Was the night doomed to experience a crispy crust pizza? Dunno. What I did know is that we had no pizza sauce, and I had to run to the Chinese to get some more tomatoes for enough sauce. We placed the bowl with damp cloth in the sun and ran out to get some coca-cola (an absolute must with pizza) and tomato paste, praying that the dough will have risen by the time we get back. Well...as you can imagine, after all that kneading, sweatiness, and probably a little blood, the dough was...
BEAUTIFUL!! Risen wonderfully. TAKE THAT, SKEPTICS! So, next was the sauce concoction. I started strong with pureed tomatoes, and some tomato paste (which was all the Chinese had). Then, out of absolute ignorance and desperation, I frantically began throwing in whatever I thought might work. I'll try and recall as much as I can, but I'm pretty sure Steve Pappins Pizza Sauce Concoction looks a little something like this:
1 Can of Peeled Whole Tomatoes
1 1/2 Packets of Tomato Paste (for consistency)
3 cloves of garlic, (smashed as best as you can, but large clumps of garlic adds character, and a fun little mini game of fishing them out later)
8 leaves of chopped basil
Silver Dollar pile of diced onions (against moms orders, sorry mom)
Smidgen of Salt
Fleckle of Pepper
Heres where things get weird:
Sprinkling x3 of Sugar
2 Glooples of Honey
No Oregano (because I don't have the nerve to borrow from the neighbors)
More tomato paste just because
Taste, then add more of whatever you can find. Let sit on back burner.
Apply to rolled out dough:
So, the next step in the process is to slowly realize that everyone around you would much prefer a lot of vegetables on their pizza, so at this point you must collect whatever you can find and have your sister sautee them as quickly as possible. Slowly apply cheese to stall while vegetables cook. Be sure to add too little cheese, so you're required to apply more mid-baking. Then, apply vegetables bitterly to whole pizza, realizing that you probably won't enjoy your first pizza because it has been tainted by chunks of supposedly nasty vegetables. Oh well. At least it looks good:
Insert into oven, being sure to mention 550 degree temperature that your mom recommended, and have everyone scoff. Then try and figure out how hot 250 celsius is in fahrenheit...consider it close enough, and close door. Be sure to open the door every 6-7 minutes in impatient anticipation, and butter the crust, just like Breadeaux does, because breadeaux is awesome. Remove from oven when pizza looks DAMN SEXY. See below for visual representation:
As seen above, place pizza on visually appealing platter for additional flair. Inevitable masses will begin to hover around due to smell and hunger, and prepare for insisted documentation of your glorious event, and all those who wish to devour your masterpiece. Again, visual representation:
(smile awkwardly big and remember, YOU are the hero)
set the table and cut with scissors, due to lack of pizza cutter, and watch others enjoy, because you're busy fixing and putting in the second pizza, which will arrive late enough to be considered "second dinner". Drink cokes and bask in the glory you have earned.
They loved it, by the way. Some considered it the best meal they've had in Belize. My thanks go out to my mom, Kraft Mozzerella Cheese, for exporting to Central America, and my bloody knuckles.
Success.
