Jottage from Lancaster - making my own pizza

Heather mentioned to me that she made her own pizzas so that was enough to throw down the challenge to me to have a shot at it. I decided to make the Magic Bread as the basis but because I was in too much of a hurry, I chucked the ingredients into the bread maker to let it mix it all up rather than go to the effort of kneading it myself. Lazy, I know, but I ended up with some nice stretchy stuff that I suddenly realised would have to rise for an hour or so before it could be made into pizza. So I postponed the idea of having pizza and put the covered dough into the fridge in the hope that it would be OK to use tomorrow. 


Now tomorrow has turned into today and that bowl brimming over with risen dough seems to be filling the fridge so this morning I took it out and next I had to work out how to make a thin circle. In River Cottage Veg Hugh seems to make out that you can just roll it out very thinly but the dough seemed to refuse to roll and stubbornly stuck to the rolling pin or just shrank back to its original size. Suddenly I remembered a silicone roller I had bought from Lakeland in a sale and I threw the ball of dough on to the baking sheet and eagerly rolled it into shape. It seemed to obey and obligingly stayed in shape.

Nice rolling thing

I then slathered it with a layer of passata, cut up a red pepper very thinly and layered on peperoni, mozzarella and a little grated cheese. I was very spare with everything making one little ball of mozzarella do 2 large pizzas and barely used an ounce of cheese on each. I had put the oven on to very hot, threw in the 2 pizzas (I had enough dough left over to make a plain flat bread-y thing which I'm not sure what to do with yet) and this is what came out:

Now this may not look that appealing or professional - but it tasted wonderful - much tastier than anything shop bought and I would say barely a quarter of the price. Success, I think!

Jottage from Cambridge – The Art of the Kitchen

When I was about eight months pregnant my bump suddenly started to grow in size by the day and, before long, it was almost impossible to get past my husband in our tiny kitchen. Cooking is something that we’ve always enjoyed doing together (n.b. Hugh’s Chicken Curry is a fabulous recipe to make with another person as there are lots of components (each complicated in their own way, and worthy of admiration by your other half) which are thrown into the same pot), but given the size of our kitchen it was always going to be a challenge in this house – even without a bump! So, imagine my delight when we started looking to buy a property in Cambridge and the place we agreed on had an enormous kitchen – in fact it was the biggest kitchen I had ever had the pleasure of using on a daily basis. So, this made me think about some of the kitchens I have had to contend with, and how they compare. Also, from writing this post, I have realised that over the past ten years I have switched loyalties (from Delia, to Jamie and now to River Cottage) depending on where I’ve lived and personal circumstances. 

Unsurprisingly the kitchen I encountered at my University Hall of Residence wasn’t up to much, and Baked Bean toasties were probably the extent of my culinary repertoire for those three years. I do remember buying packets of Safeway Savers fish fingers too so perhaps I did use the oven. (Like everyone else I had a Student Cookbook, though I’m certain I never used it.) It wasn’t until I was studying for my second degree that I discovered pesto. It was a perfect match and, after a night out or a day of dull seminars, nothing quite compared to spaghetti mixed with pesto and tomatoes and sprinkled with parmesan. I lived with three girls that I didn’t get on with at all so, although the kitchen in our shared house was ok, I didn’t want to spend any more time in it than I had to  another reason why I consumed so much pesto. 

Moving to London for my first job in 2000 I lived in a cheap flat in Cricklewood with a surprisingly large kitchen. Suddenly I had sophisticated friends who weren’t afraid to attend private views at the Serpentine Gallery with arty types. They invited me round for homemade pizzas and meals that didn’t come out of a packet. It was all very frightening, especially when one of my very best friends described coming round to another person’s house and being served pizza from a box! I was that very friend, though she had clearly forgotten it was me and I didn’t confess to such a faux-pas. However, I didn’t really take advantage of this big kitchen (and I was fairly terrified of my landlady who lived with me at the time and I didn’t want to spend too much time weighing out ingredients in our shared space), so going out to Pizza Express or Wagamamas became an almost weekly event. Also I never went out with anyone for long enough in those early years to need more than one recipe, so experimenting in the kitchen was hardly a priority. When I invited a boy round for dinner I would always give them pasta served with roast veg, passata and bacon. This was exactly what I gave to Theo (my now husband) when he first came round. It was quite frightening when I realised we were becoming more committed to each other, and a second invitation would be necessary. I didn’t know what on earth to serve up that would impress him (though my pasta dish probably didn’t win his heart so a good cook probably wasn’t top of his criteria for a girlfriend). Delia came to the rescue. Over the following months I served him up all kinds of meals which I printed out at work from Delia online. We also discovered that cooking was something we enjoyed doing together so some of the burden was taken off my shoulders. He adored cooking with fish, not something I had eaten much of previously – see ‘A Fishy Dilemma’ – and the stir fry became the fast-food option rather than pizza.  

I’m part of the generation who adores Jamie Oliver. I doubt that I have any friends who don’t have a pile of his books stacked up on their kitchen counters with well-worn pages. Moving to Manchester in 2007 I bought one of those characterless flats in the ‘trendy’ Northern Quarter, and Jamie became part of the furniture. All painted white (the lease actually forbids the tenants from painting the walls any other colour) the kitchen was an add-on to the main living space. Although it wasn’t very big, I found it perfectly suited my needs. The trick was not to make anything too complicated (which is where Jamie really comes in) so that when friends came round for dinner they wouldn’t see me getting all flustered in the kitchen. Instead I would pour them a glass of wine and try and keep myself sober while I made a recipe I knew by heart. I invited various new acquaintances round for dinner, and a risotto of some kind, or indeed homemade pizza (see Jamie’s Italian), was always on the menu. 

From Manchester to Cambridge, and I have already described the contrasting kitchens I have experienced here. As you can see from the photo I now have ample space – Tristan is at the centre of things and around him are cupboards, and a huge stove which have eight hobs, and two ovens! I even have a shelf in one cupboard for my expanding collection of Tupperware. I will definitely make the most of my new fancy kitchen and, in the spirit of this blog, will endeavour to concoct as many things as possible from my River Cottage cookbook. Living just off Mill Road with a wealth of food shops surrounding me I should be able to source all the ingredients and, with dinner parties becoming rare treats, it feels worth venturing beyond Jamie and Delia and into new territory. 

Too small for me and a bump...

Big enough for all of us and more...