Archive for May 29th, 2010

At some point during the first grade (right about the same that that, chasing my older sister around the kitchen with a sharpened pencil in my hand, I managed to implant a piece of graphite in my hand that can still be seen lurking underneath my epidermis), my parents started making pizza every Saturday night. I don’t know where the idea came from, but they began this habit, and have yet to stop – to the benefit of us all.

During third grade, when we lived in Toronto, our neighbor, a recent immigrant from Austria, gave us a recipe for dough, and we bought a set of round pans dotted with holes in the bottom at a nearby Italian goods store (the same place we bought the Mezzzluna, to be discussed later). My parents started using less sauce and cheese, and the practice of making a “kid pizza” (cheese and pepperoni) and an “adult pizza” (meat, and  nasty little things known as peppers, capers, mushrooms, and olives, with the occasional artichoke) began. And thus it has been. Over time, more persons in the family became okay with eating such oddities, and now, perhaps as more of us reach adulthood, the mature person’s pizza is more popular.

Usually, well, back before certain teenage boys proved themselves to be very irresponsible and got the privilege revoked, this meal was our one chance at soda for the week, as we would down a two liter bottle of Coke, Dr. Pepper, or similar sugary beverage. Sometimes a salad accompanies the meal, especially nowadays, when six cups of flour does not give rise (pun unintended, but still funny) to enough pizza dough to satiate everyone without an accompanying dish.

Nowadays, my stepfather makes the pizza. He drags some child in to grate a chunk of mozzarella, and another is coerced into cutting up the salad. Mr. Cassella figured out that it is worth the extra time to cook each pizza alone, at 525 degrees. The dough is rolled out just before it is bedecked with toppings and placed on one the above-mentioned pizza pans. Once it is done – a state determined by eyeballing through the glass and then peeking into the oven, while trying not to get your face blasted off with hot air – it is set to cool; then, it is slid off of the pan onto a cutting board, and sliced with the mezzaluna, a half-moon shaped knife with two handles that also minces fresh herbs very well. Then, it is slid back onto the pan, placed on the table, and each person gets two slices each, no more, and please do not fight to the death for any extras. Or at least don’t do it at the table.

This tradition is an important one in the family, perhaps simply because of its longevity.  All the younger children in the household began their understanding of week days through the regular existence of “Pizza Night” and ‘Church Day” – Saturday and Sunday, respectively.  Usually we are all home that night, it’s not something to miss. My stepfather has turned pizza cooking and delivery into a sort of art, and if there is one Cassella tradition that I intent to continue, aside from, of course, insane road trips and Toll House chocolate chips, it is this one. In fact, as many of my friends can tell you, I have had pizza night for them several times. Don’t worry guys, you won’t be in the desert for too long: I plan to have it again for you right after I get back from Cali.

Why this tradition is so important is somewhat ineffable. I suppose there isn’t anything special or profound about it, just the fact that we’ve gathered together, every week, for nigh on decades, to have the same recipe, and it’s still good. I have memories of pizza night in every house we have lived in since first grade, I have almost memorized the recipe myself. Perhaps it’s just that the food is so good, and how could it not be after so many years for the recipe to be perfected? Perhaps it’s just that, over the years, after eating so many slices, they have a special place in my heart. Or maybe it’s just that this is our thing. We are the Cassellas. We eat pizza every Saturday. It’s really good. We’re cool like that.

I think I made this pizza a few weekends ago.