“When the moon hits your eye , like a big Pizza pie
When the world seems to shine like you’ve had too much wine
Thats Amore ”
One bite of that Pizza at lunch , this afternoon and i was singing this song in my head.
One glorious taste of that pie and i was transported back to those cobbled streets of Rome and Florence that i had spent the afternoons roaming , many moons ago . Those cobbled streets lined by large aged trees and bushes , lined by Pizzerias and Geletarias. People walking , some swiftly and some slowly while savouring the sights and sounds of Italy.
It was as if i was sitting in that Piazza in a cafe sipping my wine and gorging on those perfect pizzas with that bubbly cheese and cozy pastas that almost felt like a warm hug. And the waiter wished us a bon appetite.
The tables spilling on to the street , watching the foutain in the centre of the piazza , while listening to musicians standing there playing their guitars and singing tunes that were both , old and new.
I could almost hear the chef , as he sang to himself in Italian , although , all to loudly, as he tossed the pizza dough into the air. And there it went spinning 360 degrees, before he made the perfect catch.
Though quite frankly the food of the humble back in Italy, to me it is the stuff dreams are made of.
That pizza tossed in the air , shaped and topped with a tangy tomato concasse and some crunchy vegetables or tender , juicy meat and covered in almost a soft and cozy blanket of some Italian mozzerella cheese, put into the family woodfired oven.
Warm and crusty and cozy once out. Finished with some fresh basil leaves and chunks of mozzerella buffella( buffalo mozzerella) and some freshly cracked pepper.
I was inspired to pull out my Pizza dough recipe from the files.
It was decided , dinner tonight was Pizza e Vino.
I decided to use some of my sourdough starter ,italian ischia, as it was, I thought it would be quite befitting. Kneading that dough it felt cold and wet and alive. I felt so fullfilled , so satisfied.
I rolled them into rounds , managed to actually toss one in the air , and managed a perfect catch ! I topped them and put them in the oven.
My humble pie was ready , the stuff dreams are made of. Paper thin covered in a tangy tomato sauce with some olives , capsicum , onions, jalapenos and cheese. Basil and some cracked pepper. And ready to transport me back to those cobbled streets of Italy.
Some bubbly with that and i indeed, had a very” bon appetite “.
And as the Italians say-
“La vita è un safno
La vita è un voyaggio”
(Life is a dream
Life is a voyage)