Posted by Maria Gagliano
I edit a huge range of books. When people ask, I start by saying that I work on “practical nonfiction, everything from business books and cookbooks to cartoon books and pop culture titles.” But even that doesn’t do the range justice, so I add that a lot of my books are slightly offbeat, especially the pop culture titles, and that no matter what they are, they offer some sort of takeaway for readers.
That’s fine enough, but when I look at the amazing range of books I edit, I’m shocked by how they do overlap in unexpected ways. Some are food-related, like The Lost Art of Real Cooking and The Naked Pint. Others inspire readers to be creative, like The Artist in the Office or Savage Chickens. Makes sense, but how about when certain books overlap that you’d never expect?
I ran into this recently with The Lost Art of Real Cooking and, of all things, The Book of Strange and Curious Legal Oddities. I was making the pizza dough recipe from Lost Art…, and it suddenly reminded me of the “pizza laws” that exist in Naples. Yes, there are actual laws that govern how a pizza in Naples should be made. The Book of Strange and Curious Legal Oddities tells us:
“In 2004, Naples passed laws mandating exactly how an “official” Neapolitan pie must be made. Among the rules:
- Diameter cannot exceed 35 centimeters, and must be round.
- Must use buffalo mozzarella only.
- Must be baked in a wooden oven at 905 degrees Fahrenheit.
- Must use plum tomatoes.
- Pizza must be no thicker than 2.5 millimeters in middle, with crust of 2 centimeters.”
Yep, it’s a little crazy. And while chefs won’t get arrested for getting creative with their pies, it’s good to know that there’s an actual rule book for this stuff. We innocent citizens need protection from faux Neapolitan pizza!
So I consulted both Lost Art… and The Book of Strange… to create my own perfect Neapolitan pizza. I got close, but I don’t have a wooden oven so I did fall short. Too bad. But if you’re up for the challenge, here’s a simple recipe for pizza from The Lost Art of Real Cooking. Alter this slightly to comply with the Naples pizza laws above, and you’ll be a true, official (or honorary) Italian.
Also, check out Ken Albala and Rosanna Nafziger, authors of The Lost Art of Real Cooking, making this recipe on Get Creative with Penguin.
Pizza Dough
Adapted from The Lost Art of Real Cooking
Take a packet of dry yeast.. Pour it into a big bowl and add a pinch of sugar. Pour over this 10 to 12 ounces of 110-degree water. Leave it alone for about five minutes. You will see the yeast “bloom” and rise to the surface.
Start pouring in unbleached bread flour while mixing with a fork. It will take about three cups. While mixing, add in a good pinch of salt. You can add a drizzle of olive oil to create a softer dough. You’ll know you’ve added enough flour when the dough is no longer wet and sticky. Let it rest for a couple of minutes.
Take out a wooden board, flour it well, and start kneading. The trick to kneading is to fold the dough in half, press down with the heel of your dominant hand, give it a quarter-turn to the right, and repeat. Keep doing this, slapping the dough down on the board every few turns so you “wake the glutens.” After about 10 minutes, the dough should be springy and elastic.
Next, swish some oil into a clean bowl and plop in the dough, getting all sides oiled up a little. Put a kitchen towel over this and leave it alone for about an hour or two, depending on the temperature in the room. The colder it is, the longer it will take.
Carefully turn out the dough onto a cutting board. You have two options here. If you have guts, flour your hands and drape the dough over the back of your hands with fingers pointing downward. With a quick rotation of your right hand toward you and your left hand away, you can toss the dough in the air. The object it to stretch the dough while leaving the edges fat for a crust, all while keeping the structure of holes inside the dough. When it’s a nice pizza size, put it on your peel dusted with cornmeal and add toppings. Slide it into a very hot oven (550 degrees), ideally onto a pizza stone that has been preheated in the oven. Cook until it is pizza with slightly browned crust and bubbling toppings. The time all depends on your oven.
Pizza Margherita
Adapted from The Lost Art of Real Cooking
If you are lucky enough to have a nice thin crust, the best approach is the classic Pizza Margherita, said to have been invented by Rafaelle Esposito for Queen Margherita of Savoy in 1889. For the classic, you do need a peel, and stone, or better yet, a wood-burning oven. Without one of those, crank your oven up to 550 degrees or as hot as it will go. Even 800 degrees would be fine. Just before baking, I like to throw an ice cube in the oven to create some steam; it gives the dough a lift, and is a good practice for all bread baking.
On the peel, top your pizza dough with a ladle of tomato sauce, swirled in a spiral, which leaves an exposed swirl. Then top with a scant handful of shredded mozzarella, though to be authentic it should be a few slices of mozzarella di buffala just placed on the sauce swirl. Then add a few basil leaves. That’s it. Slide it into the oven. It should take only a couple of minutes. In Italy people often add a drizzle of olive oil when it comes to the table, with good reason, since the pizza is usually a bit dry. A little sea salt and freshly ground pepper won’t hurt either, but that’s it.
The Book of Strange and Curious Legal Oddities
