Pizza Review: Ledo's Pizza in Deep Creek, Maryland

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I had the pleasure to visit Deep Creek, Maryland with some rascals. It’s a sleepy town that exists for folks to sail their boats, pretend they’re a squid in a man-made lake, or make an army of grilled cheese on a grill. Right next to the larger-than-life liquor store is Ledo’s Pizza. It’s one of the last stops before a cove of lake houses, so it ends up attracting customers like dopey moths wandering towards a bright light out of convenience. 

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While my comrades were busy juggling bottles of cherries soaked in whiskey, pounds of beer,  and a grotesque amount of booze that hobos pray wait for them in heaven, I went to Ledo’s Pizza. Their entrance was quaint. Fake bricks and decor screamed “Hey, we’re probably Italian” a mirage that didn’t work on me, no matter my level of hunger. I thought about leaving behind a Foursquare tip to warn others, but even that level of slacktivism seemed over the top.

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Instead of a circle, they sprawl their pizzas out in rectangles. They’re used to serving families so this format suits them perfectly, not a young man who’s idea of a serving of pizza is one large pie.  It’s a novelty that leaves crust enthusiasts behind. Only a portion of the pizza has a handle so after the outside walls of the pizza are demolished all hell breaks loose. Like a pizza prison break.

Crust or no crust, this pizza is something that would be served at a prison. An upscale prison, not the Eastern State Penitentiary (unless Steve Buscemi was in charge of the cafeteria). It’s flimsy, like a sheet of wax paper, and flops with the sauce and cheese. You can see why a crust is needed. 

It’s a shame the engineering of this pizza is poor because the sauce and cheese are passable. Nothing to write your ma home about, but it’s something I wouldn’t mind eating. If Ledo’s wanted to up their game, they need to evolve from that rectangle and work on a circle. There’s a reason pizzas are round, Mr. Ledo. No one wants to be forced into using a fork and knife to enjoy their pizza. They don’t even get those tools in prison and this is prison quality pizza!

Pizza Recipe: Pan Fried Pizza, Perfect for Leftover Dough

A few weeks ago I made some cold-fermented pizza dough. The recipe I used resulted in more dough than I could handle which meant I had to move it fast. It was like I was the leader of a pizza cartel that was trafficking dough. Could I get rid of the dough before the next shipment came in? What if we had a rat inside the kitchen? I couldn’t risk being caught, so I got rid of the evidence by pan frying some pizza. 

Pizza is such a simple creation. As long as you have crispy dough, red sauce, and a bit of gooey cheese not much else matters. Pizzas are built on that crust which means it’s under a fair amount of scrutiny. If the crust holds up the pizza is passable. When you make fried pizza dough, it’s betting hard on that concept. The crust will be so crispy and piping hot that you’ll forget that the sauce is room temperature and the cheese dotting the surface has yet to bubble. 

Getting Started

You’ll need some dough. It can be refrigerated, but I let it sit at room temperature for an hour. Before you’re ready to toss the dough to its death, heat a pan up and coat it with a bit of olive oil. Too much results in quite the miss. Oil start slipping and sliding, panic sets in, and before you know you start a grease fire in your kitchen. Not that that’s ever happened in my kitchen.

The dough should sit in the pan for only a few minutes. It’ll puff up like a whoopee cushion almost instantly. There’s some science that explains this (the reaction of yeast and hot oil?) but I have no idea why it happens. One of the many mysteries of pizza. 

After two-three minutes you can flip your dough and reveal the crisp bottom layer. It looks like it’s been in a brick over for a few minutes when in actuality it’s been drowning face-first in some hot oil! While it’s sitting in the pan, it’s time to add your toppings. I keep it light since there’s not a lot of heat on that surface. Unless you’re okay putting raw ingredients in your stomach, I’d stick with just the sauce and cheese. 

A few sizzling minutes later and your pizza is complete. 

Some may scoff at the combination of slighty-cold ingredients on the roof of the pizza, but I disagree. I’m a fan of the juxtaposition. Makes my tastebuds feel alive. Plus, it’s refreshing to be able to eat pizza without instantly destroying the roof of my mouth thanks to difficult-to-chew cheese.

Cooking With Cold Fermented Pizza Dough

Last weekend I made some cold fermented dough. In theory it’s a great idea for the summer time, but eventually you gotta turn that oven on to cook the dough. But hey, you get to put a bunch of flour in the freezer which is a fun novelty. 

I let the dough sit out for three hours at room temperature before preparing it for the oven. It didn’t rise too much which I chalked up to being part of the experience. Neapolitan pizza is the end goal here, which means a naturally thin pizza. I can vouch for this dough’s workability. It was smooth, soft, and a pleasure to stretch. It could get a job in any pizzeria if it needed one. 

Look at this guy, hanging out on my pizza stone with a thin layer of sauce and fresh mozzarella dotting the landscape. This was all about the crust so I opted to keep the toppings scant. One mistake I made was not precooking the crust. Most of the time when I make dough I precook it because it never cooks fast enough. My oven wasn’t made specifically for pizza dough so I gotta find other ways to make it work. No preheating the dough meant burnt cheese. 

I’m not too happy about it. The cheese was bland and the dough was flimsy. It couldn’t have ended any worst. You can see the dough lived up to the promise. It didn’t rise to the heavens, but was nice and crunchy. I went back to the drawing board with the second pizza and emerged with a better pizza strategy and a cute looking pie. 

I turned the heat up to 500 degrees fahrenheit from 450 and precooked the dough. I got it to brown to the level I wanted and the cheese and sauce weren’t absolutely ruined in the the sweltering oven. Sometimes it’s easy to forget that cooking pizza in the oven is less about set times and more keeping a watchful eye on the oven. Anything can happen in that heat den!  The best laid plans of mice and pizza, am I right?

Would I use cold fermented dough again? Possibly. It’s time consuming, but if you’re looking for thin crust this is your ticket. It was one of the easiest doughs to work with and once I got the handle on how it cooked we got together perfectly. If you want to make the type of pizza you get from a pizzeria you’ll want to avoid this and go for a traditional dough recipe with warm water. Again, you can find the recipe I used at 101 cookbooks. 

Pizza Review: Fazio's White Pizza in Bloomfield

I’m a big fan of the traditional cheese/red sauce/crust pizza. Nothing fancy. If a pizza can’t hold its own when it comes to the pizza triforce, it’ll never be good. Ingredients piled on only serve to trick the eater into making them think they’re eating something better than they are. 

I bring this up because I recently visited Fazio’s pizza on Penn Ave in Bloomfield to eat their white pizza. I normally shy away from pizza that doesn’t have that red sauce fueling its tastiness. It’s like the life blood of the pizza. Without red sauce it’s like eating a pizza that perished. A vampire pizza of some kind that’s been resurrected after 200 years. Something is just off and there’s an uncomfortable amount of garlic. But the owner of Fazio’s, Jon Fazio, told me that his favorite pizza is their white pizza. It’s a staple. Everyday they create the “white pizza mixture” by hand. It’s something he’s very proud of and I had to eat it to believe it.

I recruited John Carman, local Italian expert, to help me conquer this fabled white pizza. Would it satisfy our hunger? Or, like Captain Ahab, would we come away from this experience unsatisfied and spend the rest of our lives finding the white pizza that Jon Fazio whispered in my ear. 

We ordered a large white pizza from Mr. Fazio. There was some hesitate before we dove deep into the depths of this white pizza. We looked at the pie and returning our hungry gaze were images of ourselves. Below the diced tomatoes, ricotta, mozzarella, and oregano, was a shimmering layer of grease. Precious grease that would line our gullets as we slipped slice after slice down our throats.

The ingredients were fresh and each bite was accompanied with a flood of flavor. It was peculiar at first. Finally a white pizza that satisfies. Then a kind of melancholy set in. I had hyped it up to myself and thought about this white pizza for so long that its extraordinary mixture of toppings failed to meet my expectations after the second slice. While it’s not strong enough to be a staple in a pizza diet, it’s worth eating just once. Like a pizza tourist attraction. 

Oh, and bring some napkins, cause this thing gets crazy greasy.