I am not a baker.
But, you may be aware, I have this cool new wood-burning oven in the backyard, and I just had to give it a try.
Thing is, the idea was to evaluate the oven's bread-making abilities, not mine. And so rather than bumbling through a dough recipe I'd be unfamiliar with, I headed over to the most gifted bread/pizza maker in town and procured a blob of his dough.
Note to local readers: It's Lanzalotta's, from the bakery out back of Micucci, the same dough used for the Sicilian Slab and the Luna bread.
Note to everybody else: Save the indignation over copping out on the dough prep for somebody who cares. I already know I'm a spaz with the yeasty, floury stuff. Why torture myself?
Soon as I laid eyes on the blob I knew I was in good hands. It smelled swell enough to eat, and felt like a wet cloud of puffy, doughy goodness.
Did I mention the new pizza peels I bought? The wood one's for sliding stuff into The Inferno.
And the metal one's for taking stuff out.
I laughed. I cried.
Then I ate the whole freaking thing.