Feeling Kneady? Make a Pizza. by Amelia Tigertail

Calista Flockhart is out. Pudgy Auntie Rosita is in.

Okay, perhaps that’s a stretch, but though patent leather go-go boots might look better on Skinny Minnie, that’s about it. Think about it. We live so we eat so we cook. We bake and fry, sauté and blanche, and best of all--we knead.

Simple is sexy. Natural is cool. And yeast, water and flour are the divine trio of the culinary bible. Nothing alludes to sex and love and simple solitary pleasures better than a bottle of wine, a crusty baguette and a simple dish of French butter seasoned with coarse sea salt. But woman can’t live on bread alone, and so our fellow Italian foodies added a few crushed tomatoes, whole milk mozzarella slices and fresh basil to create the ultimate breed of both comfort and bourgeois sustenance: PIZZA.

No other baked good can do equal justice to both artichoke hearts and goat cheese and pepperoni and Monterrey Jack. No other simple crust is devoured with both a fine red and cans of Miller Light tall boys. And really--what better seduction than a crusty, cheesy, gooey round topped with everything from slivered, roasted eggplant to thick-cut Canadian bacon and canned pineapple?

So, my darling yeast-lovers, today we pay homage to pizza and the true, full womanly goodness it embodies.

Just like you enjoy a little solitary time on a lazy afternoon, yeast needs a few minutes to get in the groove. Begin by combining a packet of dry yeast, 1/4 cup of water and 1/4 cup of flour in a bowl. Stir to mix, then allow to rest, relax, expand and proof in all its glory for about 25 minutes. As the bubbles punctuate the top and the yeast begins its journey to elastic goodness, find an old apron, and a solid, wooden cutting board. As you near the climactic, crescendo of yeast on the rise, sip wine. Because that’s what pizza is all about. A return to simple pleasures and an attitude void of all rituals, mores and frills. We’re preparing a crust a la Mama Maria, our queen of pizza.

When the yeast is ready, add 1/2 cup of water, 1 3/4 cups of flour, 2 tablespoons olive oil, 1 tablespoon milk and teaspoon salt. Mix using a rubber spatula, then turn the dough onto a lightly floured surface ... and KNEAD. Use your arms, but let the dough guide your fingertips. Punch and roll and flip around. Feel the simplicity of the ingredients, touch it gently, but authoritatively. For eight minutes, caress and pat, adding flour if it gets too sticky, but never suffocating the essence and elasticity that bring this dish its appeal.

For these few minutes, your passion and desire and lust and joy should all be directed toward the dough. Shape it, form it, squeeze it, feel it come alive beneath your hands. When the time has elapsed, place the dough in a bowl, cover with plastic wrap and allow to rise in a warm place for about an hour and a half.

When the yeast has worked its magic (and the dough has doubled in volume), split it into two equal pieces, and roll each one into a round. Top with a thin layer of crushed tomatoes and combination of mozzarella and Parmesan cheese. That’s it. The simpler, the better.

Bake at 500 degrees for about 10 minutes. Leave your apron on--remember, we’re cooking just like Mama Maria would: simply, unpretentiously and satisfyingly--and cut a hefty slice. Add a sprinkle of dried oregano (or if you're feeling decadent, pour your creamy Italian salad dressing), raise your wineglass and toast yourself.

You are a woman. Beautiful, bold and pizza-savvy. Hear your roar.