Dunnunna dunnunna dunna Beast Ice
Have you ever had pizza so bad that after eating it you felt compelled to chug eighty ounces of beer and piss in the pizzamakers bed, wake up in the morning and tell him, half naked as a result of your own incontinence, that his pizza was the worst you've ever had? That's the story I'm about to tell. If this is too offensive for you, I'm guessing you're new here because the two loyal readers I have are well-accustomed to this manner of profanity.
So I wake up in a drunken stupor, reach over, and everything's all wet. I'm thinking, "damn it, this bitch spilled wine on my bed." Pitch black and feeling around, I realize that this wetness is of a considerably larger scale than a simple booze spill, and it is centered quite literally around her nether regions. She pissed my bed. So it's 4 a.m. and I'm cleaning up piss sheets and piss who-knows-what-else, and this goes on for a while. I'm cleaning shit up and napping on the couch (generally free of piss) until 8 a.m. Around this time I find myself in the kitchen cleaning up some other shit, and this bitch comes in and says (after I'd spent some hours cleaning up her urine as though she were an infant or a dying dog), "you know, that pizza last night was the worst pizza I've ever had." And since this bitch loves Goodfellas, one simply cannot question her familiarity with dogshit pizza.
So when I say that this round of homebrew pizza didn't go well, you will agree.
First things first, I failed at lighting the coal. What a jerk I am. But then it lit!
Even after it fired, shit didn't go very well. I used Hunt's crushed tomatoes for the sauce and Sorrento's mozzarella for the cheese. I wasn't happy with either of those choices. And the crust didn't have enough yeast in it, or something. And the stone probably wasn't as hot as it should have been. The first pie had some decent coloring and it wasn't bad but I ended up forming the dough skin too thin and it was damn near a complete disaster.
I have to work on this recipe I guess, and I might start using cake yeast. I also need to better insulate the grill, and maybe (somehow) lower the effective dome height.
Yeah. I don't know why you're reading this, either.
First off, if you like Hoobies I kindly request that you never visit this blog again. I don't exactly make a killing on this gay shit and I also don't give two shits about you, your opinion, or anything at-fucking-all. I write these reviews because somewhere along the line pizza became commodotized to the point that virtually no one can appreciate it beyond its price. Pizza Hut. Women making all-purpose dough in their disgusting bread machines. Dough balls from grocery stores. Buy One Get One Free. There's no doubt about it, that is our culture. We aren't heading there; we are there, in all things. Pizza is not a last salvation nor is it a last stand. It is, for me, the last funeral for a culture so corrupted as to be indistinguishable from utter goddamn shit. I write these reviews to remind people that such a thing as quality exists and it doesn't make you a complete faggot to appreciate such things in your life.
But now that I've reviewed most of the garbage in this town, I'm getting back to the habit of making my own pizza. For many this is merely next-level faggotry, and I appreciate those concerns. This bottle of bourbon I'm drinking straight also appreciates those concerns but this motherfucker is trying to tell me to appreciate nothing at all and he's pleading a hell of a case. Anyway, my pizza now consists of Caputo 00 Pizzeria flour, water, crummy yeast, salt and ~900F heat. These simple ingredients produce shockingly good results, albeit results I'm impossibly unimpressed with.
Bourbon is a good starting point for any endeavor. Pizza, date rape, national rebellions, it doesn't matter, this shit is just good. It's like family except it sucks way fucking less. Also, I'm gonna let Jack Daniels finish but Bulleit has some of the best bourbon of all time! I drink this shit and I want to kill whole countries full of illiterate savages. This shit makes me feel fucking American. In all honesty, there are really only two things I feel qualified to give decent reviews of and bourbon is one of them (pizza is not the other). There's a strong chance I will write a bourbon blog, too, if only because (as all theme park enthusiasts know) downward spirals are so much goddamn fun.
The other night I decided to get the makeshift oven really, really fucking hot:
The only way I know to quantify the heat level is to say that I cremated 8 babies in here. They burnt up like crack rocks in Baltimore. It was beautiful. And then I made a couple pizzas. The first pizza was a terrible abomination. Truth me told, I have no idea how to work with the new dough that I'm making. It's a completely different beast from the NY-style high gluten shit I am used to making. The first pizza was garbage so I threw it at my roommate who scommed it in about half a second.
Here's the second pizza I made. It cooked in under three minutes. I wasn't happy with a number of things about this pie but it was easily the tastiest crust I've ever shoved in my fat maw. That's not to say anything about this endeavor was good, it's mainly to say that I'm now more firmly resolved to become a gutter rat in Naples because shit like this will be thrown at me merely due to my disheveled, terrible appearance. In America the only things hurled at me are hilarious insults. As a hobo I'm going to have to side with the throwers of questionable caloric intake.
The problem with the oven which I have to resolve is that the floor is cooking much too fast relative to the dome, if you will. Solving that, these pizzas will come out really well in 90 seconds, I'm sure. That speaks nothing of the problems I'm having with the dough. They're too many to list here. Frankly, I don't know why you're even reading this garbage.
Though planning on cooking up some Neapolitan-inspired pizza in my new Weber grill-turned-pizza-oven, I ended up mixing up a batch of my standard NY-style high gluten dough that I haven't made in ages. This is because I presently lack a scale to accurately measure the ingredients, and I didn't want to waste this ritzy flour. Plus, I can make that other dough with my eyes closed and one dick tied behind my ear.
Step one: Get that shit lit, son:
Step 3: Oh shit it's fucking over 9000, maybe I should actually make the pizza. (not pictured)
Step 4: Get it in:
Step fuck you: I don't remember what happened next but this first pizza turned out okay. It didn't cook quite as fast as I was expecting but it was still fast as hell, maybe three or four minutes. I didn't take a picture of the finished pie (which was mushroom, tomato, shitty mozzarella and shitty sauce), but I did take a side picture of this slice right here:
This was one of the better looking slices, rim wise. The rest of them were suckier. On the whole this pizza was pretty mediocre. I don't know how many times I wanted to recirc after I stuffed my face with this crap, probably 8,400, which breaks my rating scale and puts me in dead last (behind places that serve cold pizza and drop their pizza on the ground).
This pie was a learning experience, as was the second and last pie that I made. By the time the second pie got in there, the temps had already begun to dip a fair amount and by the time it was 'done' the temps had falled to the 500-550F range, which sucks. However, the stone was still hot as a motherfucker so the bottom (over-)cooked really fast and since the dome temps were much lower, the top cooked more slowly. This resulted in an overly-done and overly-crunchy bottom. I didn't really mind it though and the flavor of the coal and the hickory was pretty awesome.
Yeah I skimped on the cheese, so what motherfucker. I was rushed and this pizza wasn't for me anyway so fuck you. Anyway this is just about the last of the high gluten flour I had, so I probably won't be making this style pizza again for a while. Next week I will make ritzy moon pizza and hopefully it will fucking suck.
Dear Reader (singular),
This blog is apparently nearing its logical conclusion. Therefore the pizzeria reviews will be much more infrequent from here-on-out. This is not only because I have little desire to try out the few places I have left to go to (besides Mellow Mushroom, which is simply a matter of waiting for my co-workers to suggest a Tuesday beer-lunch), but also because I just acquired a new pizza gadget, the KettlePizza Weber grill insert. With this alien technology I intend to make pizzas fit for the future King of Micronesia, John Vegas.
I'm probably going to make my first batch of dough (with some ritzy Caputo '00' pizza flour) tonight, acquire some coal and hardwood and bake some terrible pizzas tomorrow night. I'm shooting for temperatures north of 850F. I expect a long string of terrible failures and as such may document parts of this crummy adventure here on this worthless blog. Or not, in which case this post simply serves to explain why I might not be reviewing pizzas very regularly in the near future. That said, there will be a review in the next few days. In short, just ignore this fucking post.