Beat the Heat With Ice Cold Pizza

It’s Summer time and the only savior we have from that horrid sun shining its gloriously hot light onto our feeble bodies is the cold. Ice cold if possible. The notion of embracing the cold is counter to the pizza fundamentals. Piping hot pizzas sprout from ovens that seem to have channeled the power of Hell. The most uncomfortable environment to be in on a sweltering Summer day.

You’re sipping on your iced coffee, huddled by the air conditioner wonder where pizza has a place this season. I got you, pal. You should know by now that pizza always has a place. I was searching for some pizza dough recipes and found a recipe for cold fermented pizza. The crutch of this dough is that every aspect is chilled to a refreshingly cold temperatures. My typo “00” flour sat in the freezer for a few hours and the water I added to the recipe was a crisp 40 degrees Fahrenheit. 

From what I’ve gathered, cold fermented pizza returns a crispier outer crust. It’s thin and parallels what Italy devours on the regular. It’s a departure from the recipes that require the dough to rise at room temperature for four hours and the yeast to dance with a warm cup of water before rising. 

The recipe resulted in a hefty amount of dough, dough that was a bit too soft for my liking. While it was spinning helplessly in my mixer I added more flour to get it to come together, but the results were still syrupy. On the plus side it’s soft and a pleasure to hold. Is there a possibility that these dough balls could double for kids toys? When the child is bored of playing with the dough you turn it into dinner. That’ll teach them to leave their toys around the house!

Here’s what the dough looked like after all was said and done. It’s sitting in my fridge as we speak. Surprising no one, they haven’t risen an inch. I’m worried, but I’ll put my faith in the pizza gods. They’ve yet to steer me wrong on this pizza pie we call life. 

Pizza Goals for the Week of June 24

While I’m still wandering around Pittsburgh as its local pizza dumpster, I feel like I’ve done a poor job of providing coverage and entertainment. I’m really worried about the tiniest demographic who can’t read the newspaper because there’s no pizza coverage. Can’t turn on the TV or YouTube because there aren’t any pizza videos. Can’t open their mailbox because there’s no pizza in it. Don’t worry, I’m hoping to pick up the slack.

Here’s some pizza content you can expect in the coming week.

  • Video Q&A will be returning. You can submit a pizza question for me to answer here.
  • I’ll try and reach out to someone in the pizza community for an interview. Maybe Jeff Varasano? 
  • Pizza review of Fazio’s white pizza!
  • A pizza haiku. 
  • Pizza news as it happens.

So get hyped up! Keep the links coming my way and if you have any pizza suggestions don’t hesitate to ask. Lots of great pizza content coming your way in the next week. Tell your friends.

Pizza Review: Mercurio's Neapolitan Melts in Your Mouth

It was a bright and sunny Father’s day, and all through the town, not a creature was stirring, not even a clown. The heavens were calm and the birds did chirp. If I didn’t know any better I could have sworn they did burp. This Father’s day I took my dear ol’ dad down the street. We would go to a place where pizza we would eat. Mercurio’s fine pizza! Neapolitan style! I just hope we wouldn’t have to wait a while.

We entered the shop with empty tummies, and as soon as we got in we could smell something yummy. The scent of gelato mixed with the burning pizza oven, if I had died and gone to heaven, well, this is no coven. We took our seats in an alcove to dine and noticed that there was an abundant menu which included some wine.

To start things off we ordered some bruschetta, we ate it as though it held our vendetta. The tomatoes mixed with the soft cushy cheese, unfortunately the bread buckled at the knees. It wasn’t able to support such toppings, so what remained were plenty of tomato droppings. Yet, it was refreshing and cool, with a bit of a crunch. Would I order it again? Maybe for lunch. 

The pizzas were vast and as far as the eye, I could tell you now that this is where I’d want to die. There were simple pies made with the basic of cheese, and extraordinary delights that would certainly appease. I stuck with the basics and ordered one margherita,  while my dad ordered the primavera con carne-a.

My pizza arrived warm and gooey. I put a slice in my mouth and found it chewy. It’s buttery base sizzled my senses, but the pizza was worth the humble expenses. So simple and clean with moderate cheese, this is the pizza that blesses my dreams. It’s tasty and firm and is gone too soon, it’s the only type of pizza that can make me swoon. 

So what are you waiting for? A groupon or more? Don’t walk to Mercurio’s, but run or soar! Their pizza is as legit as any I’ve had, and if you never taste it, well, that’s just too bad.

Why wouldn't you pay $450 for a lobster pizza? →

Those near British Columbia, Canada have the pleasure of purchasing a pizza for a mere $450. It’s worth it since its main ingredient is lobster. Next to the lobster is black alaska cod and a side of Russian Oserta cavia. I think that latter ingredient is trying to somehow replace the garlic dipping sauce.

Decadent doesn’t even beging to describe this pizza. Savory toppings combine with expert craftsmanship to deliver a piping hot pie that will melt your wallet as well as your tastebuds. 

Will this cause some pizza inflation? I hope so! Pizza, a food that was meant for poor people in the street, owes it to itself to brush shoulders with the finer folks and, more importantly, the finer dishes. Pizza, all dressed up in his tuxedo, would arrive at the prestigious food dinner party nervous for his first adult venture. Before knocking on the large oak doors he would clean his monocole and straighten his bow tie. He was never very good at putting himself together. He’d enter, bumbling at first, then find his stride as he passed Spam the butler. Pizza would ask for a drink of the finest variety (vodka and maraschino cherries), and survey the room for the glitz and glamour. Feigning boredom, pizza would take out his Mad Libs. Across the way, Lobster would saunter up to pizza. The rest would be history.

Pizza Vending Machine Heading to America →

Back in December I wrote about a magical machine that turned money into pizza. The pizza vending machine. It’s the closest man kind has come to alchemy. At the time, the Pizza Vending Machine made its home in the Netherlands and throughout Europe. Which is ideal since pizza is so hard to find there that the convenience of this machine really made sense. I’m sure a lemon and olive oil machine are in production as we speak.

Meanwhile, across the lake Americans have struggled in the absence of a pizza making machine. We’ve streamlined the process to an online interface and mobile apps, but even that isn’t convenient enough. For months we’ve glared across the lake, shaking our flabby fists at the Netherlands. We’ve cursed their innovation and held protests to have the pizza vending machines stationed here. Finally, they’ve heard us which means the Occupy Movement can subside.

A1 Concepts, the company behind the machine, hopes to open a headquarters in Atlanta, Georgia and begin to distribute the pizza vending machine throughout the United States. By making a home in Atlanta, I just hope that Varasano’s doesn’t feel the robotic squeeze.

Welcome to America, Pizza Vending Machine.

Pizza Review: The Holiest of Pizza, Church Fair Pizza

Walking through Bloomfield is hardly predictable. The streets are lined with roaming characters with no destination and I’m not sure they know how they got to the Little Italy of Pittsburgh. Pizza and hoagie shops see a rotating cast of patrons that stumble by the plethora of outdoor seating occupying the sidewalk. One night a live band might be playing on a street corner, the next night there could be a farmer’s market. Every trip through Bloomfield is like walking through a mystical alley where you might bump into a man selling magic lamps. 

On this particular night there was a church festival. Sprouting out of nothing, the Immaculate Conception church festival was a bastion of neon, fried foods, gambling, instant bingo, and pizza. Pizza I can only assumed has been blessed in some way.

Pizza partner, Christa, and I wandered around the booths before stumbling on the pizza. The usual suspects were there: the money wheel, instant bingo, funnel cake, a DJ playing top 40 hits, Angry Birds, and cheap stuffed animals that were guaranteed to rip open after settling into a child’s bed. 

The pizza booth was selling pizzas for only $1. I’d be a fool not to participate. Buying a slice first meant visiting the ticket booth to exchange my american dollars for the preferred currency of the church festival, tickets.

The exchange went smoothly even though the ticket lady was baffled I was only getting $1 worth of food. I went to the pizza booth and handed them my ticket in exchange for a square of pizza that just popped out of their suite of ovens.

The three ovens sat behind the ladies working the booth waiting to cook pizzas like church patrons waiting to in line to receive a sacrament. I’m not sure of the logistics behind this oven technology, but that can’t possibly be safe, can it? One wrong jostling and you have a gas leak. Combine that with a couple open flames and the church festival becomes a hellish battleground. It’s outside, thank goodness, but ovens weren’t meant for the elements. I’m impressed by their craftiness and really want to try this for myself. Coming soon to Mintwood St, outside ovens.

Anyways, the pizza. It was square, gooey, and surprisingly crisp and doughy at the same time.

It was fairly undercooked which I wouldn’t hold against these little squares. Instead of three separate levels of pizza (crust, sauce and cheese) it all conforms into one limp rectangle. It tends to buckle under its own weight, but if you manage to get it into your mouth in one piece you'll experience a kind of tenderness reserved for the finest of meats. The softness gives your jaw a workout, like chewing a piece of gum, but it packs enough flavor that you don’t grow tired of hosting it in your mouth. It’s all very basic and elementary, but there was a simple joy in eating a cheap slice of pizza surrounded by neon lights and carnival games that may or may not take a dozen people lives during the course of this festival. 

I can recommend this pizza with one caveat: don’t eat it outside of the festival. The pizza is an embodiment of the rag-tag church event. The amateurism of the pizza goes unnoticed compared to the old women tending to the instant bingo or the kids begging their parents for one more handful of funnel cake. 

Pizza Review: Pizza Cooked via Coal Taste Like Coal

My dad, Tommy T, was out of town and was in danger of missing his precious Thursday Post-Gazette. What’s important about the Thursday paper is that it holds all the mysteries of the weekend activities. This weekend’s edition outlined the Arts Festival and probably made a bunch of jokes of how it’s probably going to rain. Sorry if you’re not from Pittsburgh, it’s a really dumb joke.

In return for retrieving the Thursday paper on his behalf, Tommy T was going to bring me some coal fired pizza from Anthony’s Coal Fired pizza out in Robinson. There are actually Anthony’s all over the country capitalizing on this coal fired trend. I’m not sure why anyone would buy a coal fired pizza. Would you let Bert the chimney sweep make you a pizza right after his chimney cleaning shift? No. You wouldn’t. You don’t want soot and ash all over your dinner. Yet this coal fired phenomemon delivers such an experience at a premium price.

By the time my dad delivered the pizzas from Robinson they were fairly cold. He had to kill some time before I was home from work, so while he ran some errands in Bloomfield he hid the pizzas in his trunk because he was, “Worried someone might break into my car and steal all the pizzas.” Unfortunately, I wouldn’t put it past some Bloomfield citizens.

The pizzas were charred on their edges. They looked like they escaped battled, blackened by a brush with death. Their shells compromised, they were half the pizzas they should’ve been. Biting into a coal fired slice certainly wasn’t as exotic or appealing as you would hope it would be. It’s as gross sounding as eating frog legs, but, unlike frog legs, this tastes just as bad as it sounds. Sensing the cheese or toppings (pepper and arugula in this case) was an impossible task. My poor tastebuds had to battle through a bastion of blackness to taste anything resembling a pizza. 

The circumstances were unfortunate. Coal fired pizza may not be for me. I’m a fan of the simple and fundamental pizzas. Pizzas that have their crust tickled by a playful flame or were birthed in a brick oven. Burning a pizza has classicly been a sign of amateurism and I’m not sure basing an entire company around this idea is such a great idea, Anthony.

Tommy T may think otherwise.