My Marinara Masters (alternatively titled: That time Leonardo DiCaprio almost asked me to marry him)
You know the adolescent expression, “If you like it so much—why don’t you marry it?” That’s how I feel about pizza.
Seriously. Have you ever met a savory, foldable, unapologetically cheesy slice that you haven’t wanted to fall in love with? Even bad pizza is good pizza—which makes good pizza really freakin’ good pizza.
I adore crafting pizzas in my own kitchen from the dough up. I’m fascinated with all the different vehicles—naan bread, pita, eggplant—that can act as a foundation. Attempting to keep a healthier régime though (not to mention having a mom who lives a wheat-free lifestyle), I’m always on the hunt for products that deliver on a gluten free level and most importantly—that are actually authentically delicious. If you’ve stepped foot into the ring of the gluten free game, you know that many of the rice and corn-based products that line the shelves taste more like cardboard than edible ingredients. So when I stumbled upon Manini’s wholesome, fiber-rich par-baked pizza crust (Gluten Free & Vegan) that not only crisped and crunched like standard starchy pizza dough, but alas! (yep, I said alas) packed an invigorating punch of nutrition—I had found “the one.” Thanks to naturally gluten free and nutrient-dense ancient grains like amaranth, teff, sorghum, and millet—the flavor is earthy and nutty and each sturdy slice holds up like a champ.
I do live in a beach town, after all, so it’s not unusual for my mom to visit often. I like to keep things she can eat on-hand and lucky for me—she digs pizza just as much as I do. Manini’s par-baked crust serves as a solid bottom, delivers a righteous crunch, and offers a mouthful of nourishing components in every glorious bite. With the aid of a superior base, I no longer have to scour the stores for something to satisfy my mom’s picky palate. I also don’t feel as bad coating these divine pies with gourmet goodies like funky taleggio cheese and spicy herb oil. I can even sneak in a luxuriously creamy, uber decadent béchamel sauce (made with Manini’s Multi-Purpose Flour).
I bet you want the recipe for that, don’t you? Don’t worry—it’s below. Want to see a video on how it’s made? Yep, that’s down there too.
Now, strap on your red pepper flakes and let’s travel down my pizza path together…
In the past thirty-two years, I feel as though my refinement in the field of pizza has been elevated from elementary to nearly obtaining my marinara masters. My first memories of this Italian-oriented dish were as a twelve-year-old at a friend’s house ordering it delivery-style from a major chain. Notorious for their pan-style pies, each slice’s interior was bready and thick—while the rounded end of the buttery crust was adorned with a lacy, crispy layer of crunchified cheese. Pizza traveled with me through high school, as nearly every juvenile get-together I threw in my parents’ basement began with stacks of greasy, over-sized boxes loaded with pepperoni and ‘shrooms (and a VHS copy of the classic horror flick Scream). Pizza was the perfect partner to this setting. There were no plates or forks needed, and—unless you counted the old purple sectional sofa—no napkins required. In ten minutes, you could scarf down a completely satisfying dinner that covered every one of the basic (teenager) food groups: bread, cheese, and more cheese.
Throughout college, pizza became the reliable, always-available, always-ready-to-party friend that my roommate and I depended on. Sometimes it was all we could afford when the only crumbled up cash we could find was under the cat. Sometimes it was the epicenter of an after-hours grub session where the doughy substance soaked up our night and became Sunday’s saving grace. No matter the dire situation, pizza continued to be my steadfast mate.
In my mid-twenties I moved to Los Angeles. Directly under the Hollywood sign—to be exact. The sparkly town was swimming with overpriced sushi and epicurean delicacies from the west coast’s most recognizable chefs. My first weekend there, I stumbled upon a small café in the very same neighborhood as my tiny one-bedroom (more like one-box) apartment. The Oaks Gourmet’s far-flung menu was loaded with uppity California-esque cuisine like the “Antioxidant Kale Salad”, though my eyes were immediately drawn to the extensive pizza roster. I went gaga over the impressive mashup of ingredients: pineapple caramelized onion ragout; smoked cheddar; garlic ricotta sauce. After some quiet deliberation, I chose my pie and requested a side of ranch. The look I got in return still offends me to this day. Raising a pierced eyebrow, the cashier asked if I was from the east coast and then promptly sent me to the trendy, upbeat bar next door for my beloved pizza sidecar.
Once my herby dressing was in-hand, I placed it atop the ten-inch white cardboard box, and spun around to leave—only to catapult the condiment into mid-air. I squeezed my eyes shut, and heard the container land (lid-up, thankfully) nearby. I opened my eyes to find Leonardo DiCaprio on one knee. The Titanic star stared up at me—dirty blonde locks flowing in the Hollywood heat—and smiled a boy-ish grin. “I think you dropped this,” he said.
And then he proposed.
Just kidding.
Okay, so I’m not one-hundred percent positive that my golden-haired hero was actually Leo—but I was too excited about my pizza to take a second look.
Today (and back on the east coast, I might add), I still devour cheesy pies on a weekly basis and—as I mentioned earlier, love to concoct them on top of Manini’s killer gluten free crusts. I’ll gladly lather them in cream sauce, scatter them with wild mushrooms, and share these divine pies with my mom—but if Leo ever came asking for a slice…
I’ll never let go, Jack. I’ll never let go.
Wild Mushroom + Taleggio Pizza with
Fontina Béchamel & Spicy Tarragon Oil (RECIPE VIDEO BELOW!)
Makes 2 10” pizzas (serves 2 as an entrée or 4 as an appetizer)
3/4 cup extra-virgin olive oil
1 tablespoon crushed red pepper flakes
1 cup fresh tarragon leaves
1/4 cup fresh parsley
Coarse salt
2 tablespoons unsalted butter
3 tablespoons Manini’s Multi-Purpose Gluten Free Flour
1 cup half-and-half (plus another 1/4 cup to thin the sauce, if needed)
Freshly grated nutmeg
Freshly ground black pepper
1 1/2 cups grated fontina cheese
4 tablespoons olive oil, divided
2 tablespoons minced shallots
2 cups stemmed and chopped assorted wild mushrooms (such as shiitake, oyster, porcini, or chanterelle)
1 package Manini’s Gluten Free Pizza Crust (2 crusts per package)
4 ounces taleggio cheese, sliced
1/4 cup sundried tomatoes
Small handful fresh basil, cut into ribbons
In a small saucepan, heat the oil and red pepper flakes over medium-low heat. Cook until the flakes begin to lightly sizzle (but not brown), about 2 minutes. Remove the pan from heat and allow the oil to cool, about 20 minutes. Strain through a fine mesh sieve into a food processor.
Bring a small saucepot of water to a boil, and drop in the tarragon and parsley. Blanch the herbs until wilted but still bright green, about 1 minute. Drain the herbs and refresh under cold water. Pat the herbs dry with paper towels and transfer to the food processor with the chili oil. Add a pinch of salt and blend until smooth. Strain again through a fine mesh sieve, pressing on the herbs to release their flavor.
In a medium saucepan, melt the butter over medium to medium-low heat. Stir in the flour and whisk until a paste forms, about 1 minute. Gradually pour in the milk, whisking until smooth. Turn the heat to medium-high and bring the béchamel to a simmer, whisking constantly, until thickened, about 2 to 3 minutes. Reduce the heat to low and cook, whisking often, about 5 more minutes. Remove the sauce from the heat and stir in the fontina until melted. Season the sauce with nutmeg, salt, and pepper.
Preheat the oven to 400° and place a sheet of tin foil along the bottom to prevent drips.
Drizzle the pizza crusts with 1 tablespoon olive oil and a sprinkle of salt and pepper, each. Place the crusts directly onto the middle oven rack and par-bake for 5 to 6 minutes.
In a large skillet, heat the remaining 2 tablespoons olive oil over medium heat. Add the shallots and mushrooms and sauté until the mushrooms are lightly browned, 3 to 4 minutes. Season with salt and pepper and remove from the heat.
Onto the par-baked crusts, evenly spread the fontina béchamel sauce and top with the mushroom-shallot mixture, taleggio, and sun-dried tomatoes.
Raise the oven temperature to 425°.
Return the pizzas directly to the middle oven rack oven and bake until golden brown, about 12 to 13 more minutes. Turn the broiler on high, and cook just until the béchamel is bubbly, about 45 seconds. Drizzle each pizza with the spicy tarragon oil and garnish with the fresh basil. Slice and serve with a simple mixed greens salad dressed with fresh lemon juice, extra-virgin olive oil, salt, and pepper.