Husbands say the darnedest things. We were walking through the grocery store the other day, gleefully stocking up on raw ingredients after being away from our kitchen for almost three weeks, mulling over what to make for dinner over the next few days. Brian--the charming fellow who once ate a bowl of chopped up hotdogs swimming in a broth of ketchup; who has to avoid the canned meat aisle if we're to make it out of the supermarket without a tin of ham; who sits down regularly with a gallon of pickled beets--said, "why don't we have, like, a pizza with purple potatoes and gorgonzola cheese?". I nodded, shocked, as he explained he'd heard something like that on the radio recently and thought it sounded good. We worked through a few more important details--sauce or no sauce? Additional cheeses? Should we try the beer crust our friend Nathan relayed to us while we consumed too much beer? Our conclusions: no sauce, a bit of mild cheese and most certainly the beer crust, although we couldn't remember the recipe, except that it was a few cups of flour, a "thing" of beer, and no yeast. We surmised that it would probably do well with a splash of olive oil and a pinch of salt, and I remembered later that Nathan had mentioned that he liked adding flax seeds, and using flavoured beers. The latter wasn't kicking around our fridge--we used Pabst Blue Ribbon (a.k.a. PBR, the champagne of beers) instead--but we did have a seldom-used bottle of flax seeds lazing around in the back of the dry cupboard, and decided to give it something to do.
The crust turned out a bit weird--it felt and looked like pizza dough before it was cooked, although it wasn't quite as stretchy. When we baked it, it turned out rather dense and chewy, kind of like the crusts we used to get in our Lunchables as kids. In other words, it was a guilty pleasure that defied a few rules of baking and fell way short of normal pizza dough standards, but was satisfying and tasty nonetheless. I just wouldn't try to sneak it by a pizza afficionado. For that reason, I'm going to hang on to the crust "recipe" for now, so we can perfect it and then proudly bring it to the masses. But the pizza--oh, the pizza. Behold it in all its purple pomp:
As if the purple potatoes weren't enough, I remembered the purple basil toughing it out in our planter in the 30 degree heat, and hurriedly put a few withering leaves out of their misery while the pizza cooked. That reddish-purply coloured meat you see is Speck, or smoked prosciutto. Whether or not you like purple, I have no doubt you'll enjoy this pizza. And if you've got a soft spot for blue, it's there too, in the blue veins of the gorgonzola cheese.
Purple Pizza
Pizza dough of your choosing--try this one if you want a no-fail recipe, but be warned: you must make it a day in advance!
7-8 tiny purple potatoes (or 4-5 egg-sized ones), sliced into 1/8" rounds
1/2 C crumbled gorgonzola cheese (or torn into gooey hunks if it's too soft)
1/4 C shredded mozzarella, fontina or other mild, stretchy cheese
4 slices Speck or prosciutto (or Breasola if you want to take the purple theme to new heights)
2 tbsp olive oil
1 clove garlic
Purple basil
Place pizza stone in cold oven, if using (recommended--they're 10 bucks. Just buy one already)
Preheat oven to 450 degrees
Cover the sliced potatoes with water in a small saucepan, and bring to a boil. Meanwhile, roll out the pizza dough on a well-floured cutting board or counter and set aside. Tear the Speck into manageable pieces. Chop or press garlic and add it to the olive oil in a small dish.
Prick the potatoes with a fork, and if they're soft (but still firm), drain them and wait a few minutes for them to cool. Take the pizza stone out of the oven and sprinkle it with cornmeal to make sure the pizza doesn't stick. Place the dough round on the stone carefully, and add the toppings in the following order:
- spread the garlic oil over the crust
- add the purple potatoes, then the cheese, then the torn Speck
Bake at 450 for 10-12 minutes or until the crust is golden in places and the cheese is melted. Scatter the basil leaves (I sliced mine thinly) over the top, slice, and serve.
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