All Photos © Christine Elise McCarthy 2013
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There are many reasons one might just need an easy & quick supper. Time might be short. Energy or inspiration absent. Sickness. Dropped by your agent. Mourning. Lethargy. Apathy. Heartbreak. Passed over for a promotion. Laziness. Self-pity. Just got fired. Hangovers. Who knows? Lots of reasons to just bust out the ole Kraft Macaroni & Cheese and I am not above such things. In fact, Kraft Mac & Cheese is the silver lining in the negative world that makes me bust the box out to begin with. Kind of like the weight loss that accompanies food poisoning. Gotta look at the bright side. I love Kraft M&C. A LOT. And one entire box is not enough. I never eat more than one box in a sitting but I also never eat less than a whole box. I don’t use the butter or milk – but rather – add a touch of salt. And, with a little cheap hot sauce – like Rooster or Crystal – I am hooked up in my comfort food world.
Well – without revealing which ailment broke my spirit last night – I will say that my spirit was broken. It was all I could do to eschew the Kraft & venture forward & try to make something I could share with youz. This lavash pizza is the result. As you can see – a broken spirit is as damaging to a photographer’s inspiration as it is to a cook’s – so please forgive. Remember. Spirit. Broken.
The news here is the whipped feta. It is made by simply blending 8 oz of feta with 3 oz cream cheese & just enough water to get them to blend in your food processor (or other tool you use to whip things).
It spreads like a dream and tastes like a kinder, gentler feta. I needed some kind & gentle last night – so I whipped some up. This would be good on sandwiches or bruschetta or blended into a pasta dish – or on pizza!
I didn’t have enough flour to make pizza dough so I decided to try the lavash I had just purchased at the AWESOME Super King. A quick interjection about Super King: I have always heard horror stories about the parking lot there but never really experienced anything beyond the heavy traffic in it & the zombie walkers with their shopping carts, cankles & black socks (or threadbare knee high stockings) with various slipper shoes. But yesterday, I noticed that EVERY car I watched try to pull into a parking spot needed to make a three point turn to accomplish the task. WTF? The spots are no smaller than expected. And nobody was driving a stretch Hummer. Just a bunch of 20 year old sedans in forgettable colors & badly in need of a wash. And old fuckers that probably haven’t had their eyeglasses prescription updated since the year their car was built. Since I was already suffering from a broken spirit – this incompetence made me want to do what this guy in Fort Smith, Arkansas did last week:
Which was – to hack some folks to death with a machete. Click the Fort Smith link above for the story – but – have you ever seen a scarier looking guy in your life? Imagine him hacking at you with a machete & screaming “I have Satan in me!” as he did so. Who would fuck with this guy to begin with? I see Satan all over him. What is up with his throat? Is that odd beard growth or a tattoo? And he is a tiny little Manson-looking thing. See how small?
Anyway – this guy radiates “Do NOT fuck with me.”
You might be relieved to hear that I wasn’t carrying a machete yesterday & so the only damage I could inflict on these parking retards was the surliest stink-eye I could muster. Like this:
Most of the victims of my ocular hostility appeared unmoved by it. Disappointing. But, unarmed, there was little else I could do to express my distaste with them & their poorly crafted vehicular maneuvering. Thus thwarted, I moved on to the shopping.
I left with about 15 bags of produce & cheeses & spent a mere $85 (which included $25 for a huge four pound wedge of Parmesan). I love me some Super King.
I bought the lavash at Super King – which is no easy feat because they carry about a million brands. It is VERY intimidating!
See? On the shelf beneath the meat? And that is only about half of what is available because the meat counter goes on a ways & then takes a hard right & continues. LOTSA lavash. LOTS.
I selected one at random.
Seriously. I couldn’t make out any difference between them – so – I winged it. This cost $1.99.
As to the pizza. I topped it with (predictably) that which I had handy. Whipping the feta took all the gumption I had. I had recently made a crazy, vibrant collard green pesto pasta (which I will share soon) – and had this extra pesto around.
I also had a bit of extra sauteed tomatoes from my Pan-Fried Lemon, Goat Cheese & Ricotta Gnocchi recipe.
I also had basil & another decadent $5 container of micro arugula. And I had lots of cherry-sized mozzarella balls. And that is how this recipe was born. Actually – it isn’t a recipe. It is a suggestion.
I used one of these wire racks to cook the pizza as I feared a regular cookie sheet might result in a soggy lavash. Egad!
In hindsight – I think a regular baking sheet would be fine as this crisped up almost too much. Another issue is temperature. I cooked it at 425 for a few minutes & then smelled the edges burning.
See the burn? So – I opened the oven door until the oven cooled to about 350 degrees & then let it bake another 5-10 minutes – until the cheese looked like it does above. I then topped the collard pesto side with micro arugula & the whipped feta & tomato side with basil. I then doused the whole thing in an epic quantity of crushed red pepper.
I then poured myself a DEEP wine glass of Nyquil & glugged it as I downed this pizza. All of this pizza. ALL OF IT.
A hot bath & and the last dregs of my Nyquil cocktail sent me off to sleepyland at an hour too early for me to report to you here. But – at least my miserable day had been slaughtered. Slaughtered like those poor guys in Fort Smith & like the deserving but unpunished fuckers in the Super King parking lot.