• crispy pan pizzas

    Last week Julie did a post about pizza made with a flour tortilla crust. At first glance, I thought her idea was stupid. I grew up creating makeshift pizzas from halved English muffins and bagels. Soggy-crusted and bready, those pizzas were never as good as the real deal. The tortilla pizza was bound to be just another disappointing creation. Or so I thought.

    I was wrong. Turns out, these tortilla pizzas are unique and fabulous, and it’s all because of the two-step process: first on the stove top and then under the broiler. This method creates a crispy-thin crust that’s still chewy and pliable and a bubbly, golden brown, cheesy top. Pizza perfection in five minutes flat.

    Even though these pizzas are a snap to make, if you’re feeding a small herd of people as I usually am, the process can get a little tedious. Like pancakes and grilled cheese, the process is not complicated, but you can’t leave your station. To speed the process, I use two skillets: while one pizza is being assembled, the other is broiling.

    When I served these for supper the other night, the family went wild. A few days later, I made them again for lunch and got the same reaction. My kids usually eat two pizzas each, though my older son and husband can put away three or more in a sitting.

    Crispy Pan Pizzas
    With inspiration from Julie of Dinner With Julie.

    In the photos above, I used a mixture of fresh mozzarella and grated, plus my homemade pepperoni (that the kids like better than the bought stuff!). I was rushing, so the pizzas aren’t quite as brown as they should be.

    large flour tortillas
    olive oil
    pizza sauce
    mozzarella cheese
    topping of your choice: pepperoni, sausage, mushrooms, black olives, pesto, etc.

    Set a cast iron skillet over a burner set to medium heat. Lightly brush the skillet with olive oil and smack in a tortilla. Smear the tortilla with pizza sauce, sprinkle it with cheese, and add your toppings. As soon as the bottom of the tortilla is golden brown—and you want to make sure it really is golden brown all over because this is what gives the pizza its structure and crunch—pop the skillet under the broiler for a couple minutes. Once the cheese is bubbling and brown, and the tortilla edges have crisped up nicely, the pizza is done. Slip the pizza onto a plate, slice it into wedges, and serve.

    This same time, years previous: keep everlastingly at it, the quotidian (1.27.14), swimming in the sunshine, Friday evening fun, down again, Gretchen’s green chili, to meet you, and ode to the titty fairy.

  • through my lens: a wedding

    Last Saturday was the first time I photographed a wedding.

    My friend was getting married and asked me to be the informal photographer. She had hired a professional photographer for the family photos and the ceremony (she wanted me to be relaxed and present, not distracted, for the actual wedding), but it was my job to catch the behind-the-scenes stuff. I showed up at her house before noon and played, I mean, took pictures, all the way through until the bell-ringing, firecracker-popping send off.

    I loved having permission to photograph what I found interesting without the stress of having to be perfect. Which was good, because one, most of the lighting was artificial and I don’t have the fancy flashes and lenses to compensate, and two, I hadn’t a clue what I was doing. Whenever something caught my eye, I just clicked.

    My favorite part was capturing the photos that no one else was taking, the un-posed, casual moments that told a story. The calming hand massages. The quiet conversations. The panic over a torn stocking. The mad dash upon being released from a formal photo session. Except for when I told my friends’ kids to grab their friends for some spontaneous outside photos, all the photos were off-the-cuff.

    I tried to capture as many of the different wedding day components as possible: the teen boys’ last minute washing of a car, the sound tech guy, the food, the ushers, the guests, the hyper, post-wedding children, the caterers. (My one regret is that I didn’t get many photographs of the groom’s family. I had never met them before, and since I was working with a 50mm lens, I couldn’t discreetly snap pictures from a distance. But it felt invasive to get all close and personal, so I mostly just didn’t. And of course, that didn’t feel right, either.)

    The whole day was loads of fun, but by the end I was whupped. The exhaustion was bone-deep and debilitating. All I wanted was to lay flat on my back for a very long time. So I did. The end.

    Congratulations, sweet friend. Thank you for including me in your special day.

    This same time, years previous: the quotidian (1.26.15), and then we moved into a barn, housekeeping, flourless peanut butter chocolate chip cookies, and shoofly cake.  

  • the quotidian (1.25.16)

    Quotidian: daily, usual or customary; 
    everyday; ordinary; commonplace



    Garden steaks: fried slabs of leftover baked sweet potatoes.

    When I was a kid, friends sent my family a care package with these
    old-fashioned cream-filled ginger cookies.
    Twenty-five years later, I baked them for us.

    She figured out how to crack eggs with one hand, so I made her teach me.

    In my PJs: time to shovel.

    Forget rainbows, it’s a snow-bow!

    Rosy, and sprinkled with melting snowflakes.

    Car-skates.

    Crazy about the kittens, this boy is.

    It’s a good thing she’s got a good attitude.

    This same time, years previous: first day of classes, five things, grumble, grumble, thoughts, and baked Brie.