My grandmother made pizza the day she made bread, making an extra batch of dough for that night’s pizza supper. She spread the soft elastic dough out on a large rectangular baking pan with her fingers and the production line began.
First ladling spoonfuls of homemade sauce.
I sat around her the big round table taking turns with my mom, aunts and cousins grating mozzarella cheese on one grater, Parmesan on a finer grater, until I skinned my knuckles on the grater— got little sympathy but a big band-aid, as they continued chopping green peppers, onions, mushrooms, cutting Italian sausage and laying out the anchovy fillets cut in 1/4 inch pieces.
Some things don’t change too much.
For a pizza party generations later, Tara made enough dough for bread for a week! And we used every bit of it for pizza.
She made the dough ahead of time, sprayed plastic bags with olive oil spray and placed bags with the balls of dough in the refrigerator. The day of the party, she removed the “bags of dough,”and let the dough balls rise again at room temperature.
Voilá! Greg and Craig were off and rolling.
The toppings are only as limited as your imagination— and this was an imaginative crowd.