The urge was more than a desire; It was a demonic possession.
When I awoke yesterday morning the realization came upon me that nothing
would satisfy my craving except a meticulously crafted Pizza €“ or better
still - two Pizzas.

After a simple seven course breakfast, my task was cut out for me.
Following the strict dictates of Neapolitan law, I began to mix the
ingredients €“ flour, water, yeast and Kosher salt. In Naples, nothing
else would be permitted, lest one face fines or possibly imprisonment.

For this effort, I chose to eschew machinery which serves admirably for
many of my other baking efforts. It was the bowl, the metal spoon and my
bulging biceps that would do the initial combining. When the proper
texture was achieved, the mass was turned out onto a lightly floured
surface, kneaded for a while and then left to hydrate before some final
muscular manipulation.

What wine would be ideal to accompany the impending masterpiece?
Down to the catacombs of my extensive cellar with only a few threads of
possibilities floating about my cranium. Walking past case after case of
La Feet, Pet Russians, and La Task, I knew that something special was
called for to fill the bill. Was it some Bar Rollo? My 93's just might be
ready, but the 96's and 97's were definitely not.
Perhaps some of the Key Yentis could suffice, but which ones?

Progressing further and further down into the catacombs, one bottle
caught my eye. At this level, with only my flickering candle to guide me,
it was becoming difficult to read the labels. Years of accumulated dust
and cobwebs did not help matters. The first letter was definitely an €œM.€�
Of that I was certain. Carefully balancing the candle and the bottle in
my left hand, I began to brush away the cobwebs. The second letter was an
€œO.€� Aha, my computerized brain calculated.
Here must be the bottle of Mouton that has eluded me for so many years.

But, as I blew away more dust and cobwebs, the next letter was not a €œU€�
but rather a €œG!€� My heart sank as I continued my belated housekeeping.
Following the €œG€� were €œE€� €œN€� €œspace€� €œD€� €œA€� €œV€� and an €œI€� with the
final piece of the label crumbled off. This had been a house gift from a
well intentioned friend who found out that I was a confirmed wino. I had
thanked him and then put the bottle in the most remote place that I could
think of.

After the initial shock had worn off, I found myself returning to the
daylight with a bottle of 2006 Panarroz Jumilla. This had been one of my
favorite Pizza wines in the past and this time was no exception. I have
yet to figure out why the Spanish names for bread and rice were combined
to form the name or even why there is an association with the picture of
a Bird of Paradise flower on the label. No matter. The Monastrell grape
practically leaped out of the bottle and captivated my nostrils. Light
body notwithstanding, it was a flavor that made one roll one's tongue
about to extract every drop of the grapey and slightly brambly essence.
No feline urine or dropped graphite pencils into the fermentation tank
here, nor were they missed.

The pizzas? Modesty forbids me to describe what came out of my 550F oven
after exactly five minutes and thirty seconds each.
The first pizza featured a crushed tomato sauce plus six small chunks of
Irish Dubliner cheese. It was a bit of a gamble, substituting that cheese
for the classic Mozzarella, but this time it paid off with an added layer
of complexity. The second pizza remained on the stone for exactly the
same time but had twelve slices of cooked Italian sausage in place of the
cheese.

Craving satisfied, now I return to fish heads and rice or beans or --

Godzilla

"Godzilla Monster" > wrote in message
...
> The urge was more than a desire; It was a demonic possession.
> When I awoke yesterday morning the realization came upon me that nothing
> would satisfy my craving except a meticulously crafted Pizza - or better
> still - two Pizzas.
>
I found myself returning to the
> daylight with a bottle of 2006 Panarroz Jumilla. This had been one of my
> favorite Pizza wines in the past and this time was no exception.



I've bought a few of the Panarroz Jumilla myself and usually have with
a-pizza.

For your enjoyment, here is another 2006 Jumilla that we like a lot and you
might, too. Price comparable.
http://www.juangil.es/ing/historia-i.htm



>
> The pizzas? Modesty forbids me to describe what came out of my 550F oven
> after exactly five minutes and thirty seconds each.
> Godzilla


I bought a Mario Batali pizza pan a month or so ago and have used it twice.

http://www.amazon.com/Mario-Batali-1...8345708&sr=8-1
or
http://tinyurl.com/d5oqdd


It was intriguing, so it became mine. The instructions are to use 425F. It
certainly does take longer than a stone up to 550F; the crust is different
than on a stone and it does take longer. I prefer my pizza stones.
However, Mario's basic pizza sauce recipe is my ole standby.

Dee Dee

"Dee Randall" > wrote in message
...
>
> "Godzilla Monster" > wrote in message
> ...
>> The urge was more than a desire; It was a demonic possession.
>> When I awoke yesterday morning the realization came upon me that nothing
>> would satisfy my craving except a meticulously crafted Pizza - or better
>> still - two Pizzas.
>>
> I found myself returning to the
>> daylight with a bottle of 2006 Panarroz Jumilla. This had been one of my
>> favorite Pizza wines in the past and this time was no exception.
>
>
>
> I've bought a few of the Panarroz Jumilla myself and usually have with
> a-pizza.
>
> For your enjoyment, here is another 2006 Jumilla that we like a lot and
> you might, too. Price comparable.
> http://www.juangil.es/ing/historia-i.htm
>
>
>

Our local Costco has the 2006 Juan Gil Monastrell for around 11.00USD. It's
another rustic pizza compatible wine at a good QPR.

http://www.juangil.es/ing/juangilm12-i.htm


Mike

On Mar 29, 12:25*pm, Godzilla Monster > wrote:
> The urge was more than a desire; It was a demonic possession.
> When I awoke yesterday morning the realization came upon me that nothing
> would satisfy my craving except a meticulously crafted Pizza – or better
> still - two Pizzas.
>
> After a simple seven course breakfast, my task was cut out for me.
> Following the strict dictates of Neapolitan law, I began to mix the
> ingredients – flour, water, yeast and Kosher salt. In Naples, nothing
> else would be permitted, lest one face fines or possibly imprisonment.
>
> For this effort, I chose to eschew machinery which serves admirably for
> many of my other baking efforts. It was the bowl, the metal spoon and my
> bulging biceps that would do the initial combining. When the proper
> texture was achieved, the mass was turned out onto a lightly floured
> surface, kneaded for a while and then left to hydrate before some final
> muscular manipulation.
>
> What wine would be ideal to accompany the impending masterpiece?
> Down to the catacombs of my extensive cellar with only a few threads of
> possibilities floating about my cranium. Walking past case after case of
> La Feet, Pet Russians, and La Task, I knew that something special was
> called for to fill the bill. Was it some Bar Rollo? My 93's just might be
> ready, but the 96's and 97's were definitely not.
> Perhaps some of the Key Yentis could suffice, but which ones?
>
> Progressing further and further down into the catacombs, one bottle
> caught my eye. At this level, with only my flickering candle to guide me,
> it was becoming difficult to read the labels. Years of accumulated dust
> and cobwebs did not help matters. The first letter was definitely an “M..”
> Of that I was certain. Carefully balancing the candle and the bottle in
> my left hand, I began to brush away the cobwebs. The second letter was an
> “O.” Aha, my computerized brain calculated.
> Here must be the bottle of Mouton that has eluded me for so many years.
>
> But, as I blew away more dust and cobwebs, the next letter was not a “U”
> but rather a “G!” My heart sank as I continued my belated housekeeping.
> Following the “G” were “E” “N” “space” “D” “A” “V” and an “I” with the
> final piece of the label crumbled off. This had been a house gift from a
> well intentioned friend who found out that I was a confirmed wino. I had
> thanked him and then put the bottle in the most remote place that I could
> think of.
>
> After the initial shock had worn off, I found myself returning to the
> daylight with a bottle of 2006 Panarroz Jumilla. This had been one of my
> favorite Pizza wines in the past and this time was no exception. I have
> yet to figure out why the Spanish names for bread and rice were combined
> to form the name or even why there is an association with the picture of
> a Bird of Paradise flower on the label. No matter. The Monastrell grape
> practically leaped out of the bottle and captivated my nostrils. Light
> body notwithstanding, it was a flavor that made one roll one's tongue
> about to extract every drop of the grapey and slightly brambly essence.
> No feline urine or dropped graphite pencils into the fermentation tank
> here, nor were they missed.
>
> The pizzas? Modesty forbids me to describe what came out of my 550F oven
> after exactly five minutes and thirty seconds each.
> The first pizza featured a crushed tomato sauce plus six small chunks of
> Irish Dubliner cheese. It was a bit of a gamble, substituting that cheese
> for the classic Mozzarella, but this time it paid off with an added layer
> of complexity. The second pizza remained on the stone for exactly the
> same time but had twelve slices of cooked Italian sausage in place of the
> cheese.
>
> Craving satisfied, now I return to fish heads and rice or beans or --
>
> Godzilla

Did you ever read Jeffrey Steingarten's book where he described his
search for the perfect homemade pizza?
He tried freezing wet towels and wrapping on thermostat to fool oven
into getting hotter, and faking out the safety on the selfcleaning
cycle.
We too have to settle for 550.
Sounds delicious.

On Mon, 30 Mar 2009 07:03:10 -0700, DaleW wrote:

> On Mar 29, 12:25Â*pm, Godzilla Monster > wrote:
>> The urge was more than a desire; It was a demonic possession. When I
>> awoke yesterday morning the realization came upon me that nothing would
>> satisfy my craving except a meticulously crafted Pizza €“ or better
>> still - two Pizzas.
>>
>> After a simple seven course breakfast, my task was cut out for me.
>> Following the strict dictates of Neapolitan law, I began to mix the
>> ingredients €“ flour, water, yeast and Kosher salt. In Naples, nothing
>> else would be permitted, lest one face fines or possibly imprisonment.
>>
>> For this effort, I chose to eschew machinery which serves admirably for
>> many of my other baking efforts. It was the bowl, the metal spoon and
>> my bulging biceps that would do the initial combining. When the proper
>> texture was achieved, the mass was turned out onto a lightly floured
>> surface, kneaded for a while and then left to hydrate before some final
>> muscular manipulation.
>>
>> What wine would be ideal to accompany the impending masterpiece? Down
>> to the catacombs of my extensive cellar with only a few threads of
>> possibilities floating about my cranium. Walking past case after case
>> of La Feet, Pet Russians, and La Task, I knew that something special
>> was called for to fill the bill. Was it some Bar Rollo? My 93's just
>> might be ready, but the 96's and 97's were definitely not. Perhaps some
>> of the Key Yentis could suffice, but which ones?
>>
>> Progressing further and further down into the catacombs, one bottle
>> caught my eye. At this level, with only my flickering candle to guide
>> me, it was becoming difficult to read the labels. Years of accumulated
>> dust and cobwebs did not help matters. The first letter was definitely
>> an €œM.€� Of that I was certain. Carefully balancing the candle and the
>> bottle in my left hand, I began to brush away the cobwebs. The second
>> letter was an €œO.€� Aha, my computerized brain calculated. Here must be
>> the bottle of Mouton that has eluded me for so many years.
>>
>> But, as I blew away more dust and cobwebs, the next letter was not a
>> €œU€� but rather a €œG!€� My heart sank as I continued my belated
>> housekeeping. Following the €œG€� were €œE€� €œN€� €œspace€� €œD€� €œA€� €œV€� and an
>> €œI€� with the final piece of the label crumbled off. This had been a
>> house gift from a well intentioned friend who found out that I was a
>> confirmed wino. I had thanked him and then put the bottle in the most
>> remote place that I could think of.
>>
>> After the initial shock had worn off, I found myself returning to the
>> daylight with a bottle of 2006 Panarroz Jumilla. This had been one of
>> my favorite Pizza wines in the past and this time was no exception. I
>> have yet to figure out why the Spanish names for bread and rice were
>> combined to form the name or even why there is an association with the
>> picture of a Bird of Paradise flower on the label. No matter. The
>> Monastrell grape practically leaped out of the bottle and captivated my
>> nostrils. Light body notwithstanding, it was a flavor that made one
>> roll one's tongue about to extract every drop of the grapey and
>> slightly brambly essence. No feline urine or dropped graphite pencils
>> into the fermentation tank here, nor were they missed.
>>
>> The pizzas? Modesty forbids me to describe what came out of my 550F
>> oven after exactly five minutes and thirty seconds each. The first
>> pizza featured a crushed tomato sauce plus six small chunks of Irish
>> Dubliner cheese. It was a bit of a gamble, substituting that cheese for
>> the classic Mozzarella, but this time it paid off with an added layer
>> of complexity. The second pizza remained on the stone for exactly the
>> same time but had twelve slices of cooked Italian sausage in place of
>> the cheese.
>>
>> Craving satisfied, now I return to fish heads and rice or beans or --
>>
>> Godzilla
>
> Did you ever read Jeffrey Steingarten's book where he described his
> search for the perfect homemade pizza? He tried freezing wet towels and
> wrapping on thermostat to fool oven into getting hotter, and faking out
> the safety on the selfcleaning cycle.
> We too have to settle for 550.
> Sounds delicious.

I haven't read that book, but Jeff Varsano's exhaustive pizza website had
also disabled the interlock on a self cleaning oven to enable 800+ temps.
Certainly self cleaning ovens have enough insulation to handle the higher
temperatures, but the legal teams must have been calling the shots to
avert possible lawsuits. With the average mentality on our planet
prevailing, I am inclined to think that they are correct.

Godzilla

On Mar 30, 10:03*am, DaleW > wrote:
> On Mar 29, 12:25*pm, Godzilla Monster > wrote:
>
>
>
>
>
> > The urge was more than a desire; It was a demonic possession.
> > When I awoke yesterday morning the realization came upon me that nothing
> > would satisfy my craving except a meticulously crafted Pizza – or better
> > still - two Pizzas.
>
> > After a simple seven course breakfast, my task was cut out for me.
> > Following the strict dictates of Neapolitan law, I began to mix the
> > ingredients – flour, water, yeast and Kosher salt. In Naples, nothing
> > else would be permitted, lest one face fines or possibly imprisonment.
>
> > For this effort, I chose to eschew machinery which serves admirably for
> > many of my other baking efforts. It was the bowl, the metal spoon and my
> > bulging biceps that would do the initial combining. When the proper
> > texture was achieved, the mass was turned out onto a lightly floured
> > surface, kneaded for a while and then left to hydrate before some final
> > muscular manipulation.
>
> > What wine would be ideal to accompany the impending masterpiece?
> > Down to the catacombs of my extensive cellar with only a few threads of
> > possibilities floating about my cranium. Walking past case after case of
> > La Feet, Pet Russians, and La Task, I knew that something special was
> > called for to fill the bill. Was it some Bar Rollo? My 93's just might be
> > ready, but the 96's and 97's were definitely not.
> > Perhaps some of the Key Yentis could suffice, but which ones?
>
> > Progressing further and further down into the catacombs, one bottle
> > caught my eye. At this level, with only my flickering candle to guide me,
> > it was becoming difficult to read the labels. Years of accumulated dust
> > and cobwebs did not help matters. The first letter was definitely an “M.”
> > Of that I was certain. Carefully balancing the candle and the bottle in
> > my left hand, I began to brush away the cobwebs. The second letter was an
> > “O.” Aha, my computerized brain calculated.
> > Here must be the bottle of Mouton that has eluded me for so many years.
>
> > But, as I blew away more dust and cobwebs, the next letter was not a “U”
> > but rather a “G!” My heart sank as I continued my belated housekeeping.
> > Following the “G” were “E” “N” “space” “D” “A” “V” and an “I” with the
> > final piece of the label crumbled off. This had been a house gift from a
> > well intentioned friend who found out that I was a confirmed wino. I had
> > thanked him and then put the bottle in the most remote place that I could
> > think of.
>
> > After the initial shock had worn off, I found myself returning to the
> > daylight with a bottle of 2006 Panarroz Jumilla. This had been one of my
> > favorite Pizza wines in the past and this time was no exception. I have
> > yet to figure out why the Spanish names for bread and rice were combined
> > to form the name or even why there is an association with the picture of
> > a Bird of Paradise flower on the label. No matter. The Monastrell grape
> > practically leaped out of the bottle and captivated my nostrils. Light
> > body notwithstanding, it was a flavor that made one roll one's tongue
> > about to extract every drop of the grapey and slightly brambly essence.
> > No feline urine or dropped graphite pencils into the fermentation tank
> > here, nor were they missed.
>
> > The pizzas? Modesty forbids me to describe what came out of my 550F oven
> > after exactly five minutes and thirty seconds each.
> > The first pizza featured a crushed tomato sauce plus six small chunks of
> > Irish Dubliner cheese. It was a bit of a gamble, substituting that cheese
> > for the classic Mozzarella, but this time it paid off with an added layer
> > of complexity. The second pizza remained on the stone for exactly the
> > same time but had twelve slices of cooked Italian sausage in place of the
> > cheese.
>
> > Craving satisfied, now I return to fish heads and rice or beans or --
>
> > Godzilla
>
> Did you ever read Jeffrey Steingarten's book where he described his
> search for the perfect homemade pizza?
> He tried freezing wet towels and wrapping on thermostat to fool oven
> into getting hotter, and faking out the safety on the selfcleaning
> cycle.
> We too have to settle for 550.
> Sounds delicious.- Hide quoted text -
>
> - Show quoted text -

I used my Weber Summit Platinum grill cranked up to about 900F and a
pizza stone. Only takes a minute or two but the crust is incredible.
Lately I've been using the Whole Foods pre made balls of pizza
dough....it saves time and makes a damn good crust.

In article >,
Godzilla Monster > wrote:
---------------

I bet the Panarroz Jumilla was great with pizza. Another wine I think
goes well with pizza (esp. with meat toppings) is zinfandel, the spicier
the better.

cshubs > wrote in news:cshubs-0D16E8.15012912092009
@news.giganews.com:

> In article >,
> Godzilla Monster > wrote:
> ---------------
>
> I bet the Panarroz Jumilla was great with pizza. Another wine I think
> goes well with pizza (esp. with meat toppings) is zinfandel, the spicier
> the better.
>

With homemade pizza, I had today a bottle of Coudoulet de Beaucastel 2001
and it was quite nice also. There was some spice, some fruit and a good
balance. Not an amazing bottle of wine, but a B in Dale's scale.

s.

For years I made pizza on a stone in my Weber grill, which gets quite
hot. But the cheese didn't melt by the time the bottom was close to
burning.

I moved the stone into my oven-- now I heat the oven to 550, then,
when I put the pizza on the stone I change it from bake to broil to
cook the top and bottom at the same pace. And it works great.

Shaun Eli
www.BrainChampagne.com

On Sep 13, 3:27�pm, Shaun Eli > wrote:
> For years I made pizza on a stone in my Weber grill, which gets quite
> hot. �But the cheese didn't melt by the time the bottom was close to
> burning.
>
> I moved the stone into my oven-- now I heat the oven to 550, then,
> when I put the pizza on the stone I change it from bake to broil to
> cook the top and bottom at the same pace. �And it works great.
>
> Shaun Eliwww.BrainChampagne.com

Cook the pizza crust a bit first then put the toppings and cheese on
when you do it on the grill that allows for a nice crispy crust yet
the chesse is melted without burning the crust.