The Pizza and the Stone
I can’t believe I ever made homemade pizza without a pizza stone.
I used to just use a baking sheet and, don’t get me wrong, my homemade pizzas turned out great every time. But for Christmas, my cousin Cameron who is awesome at the Cardinal Family Secret Santa, got me a pizza stone and life has changed forever.
My pizza stone and I made this happen:
My usual crust — nice and thin and crispy — with freshly shredded (thank you Rebecca) Monterey jack cheese, spinach and mixed baby greens, red onion, fresh tomatoes and no shortage of garlic.
The pizza stone and I still have to perfect our operations, but we’re working well together so far. Confession: I put bacon on a pizza last week. I don’t want to insult my grilled cheeses, but pizza may replace them for a little while as my current obsession.
Meanwhile, I’ll take suggestions for naming the pizza stone. My shiny red stand mixer’s name is MaryAnne. My little black Jetta’s name is Joan. My new TV’s name is Sammy Sweetheart.
I think the front-runner is Penelope. But seriously, I’m open to suggestions.