I’ve been seeing a lot of those “In” and “Out” lists flying around Instagram, and I think they’re great. Not just because a lot of them are hilarious, but because I think they show a real shift in the way we’re thinking about how we show up in the world. The ones I’ve seen, at least, have been less about trends and more about bringing things like vulnerability and rest into the New Year. That’s the type of energy I’m vibing with for 2023.
So what’s on my “In” list? Living in the moment more. Approaching things with a sense of ease and calm. Telling people how much they mean to you. Checking in just to check in. Drinking more water. Recognizing the things I like about myself. And, of course, food in all its forms. Cooking it, growing it, experimenting with it, enjoying it, and using it more sustainably.
The only thing on my “Out” list is shame. Specifically, shame over whether or not I’m doing things right, or if I’m doing them well enough, or if I should be doing them more. It’s less important to do things well, or aesthetically, or “correctly” and more important to just do them, don’t you think? I get so hung up on the right ways of doing things that, oftentimes, I won’t ever get the thing done.
Which brings me to this week’s recipe: Cookie sheet pizza. This is a quintessential family recipe, one I remember my grandmother cooking over and over for us when we were kids. It’s the recipe I think of first when I think of her cooking. It’s extremely personal to me.
But, a recipe purist will probably look at it and tell me all the things that are wrong with it. You use frozen dough instead of making your own pizza dough. (Or, if you’re lucky and live near a great pizzeria like me, pick it up from the pros.) You use marinara sauce that’s left over in the freezer instead of making your own “pizza sauce.” And you cook the whole thing on a cookie sheet instead of some fancy pizza stone.
My mother’s cousin Terry told me a story about my grandmother and this recipe once. He’d asked her how she made her pizza sauce, and she looked at him incredulously. “Pizza sauce? What’s pizza sauce?” she said. “Sauce is sauce.” And that was my grandmother—sassy and stubborn and completely secure in the way she did things.
I hope this cookie sheet pizza allows you to bring a little of that energy into your New Year, and gives you permission to leave a little of that shame behind. Make sure to enjoy it with a cold beer, if you indulge, because that is how my Grandma Margie would enjoy her pizza. It’s how I’ll always remember her.
Cookie Sheet Pizza
Makes one pizza
INGREDIENTS
One ball of pizza dough (see notes)
1 to 2 cups of sauce, depending on how saucy you like your ‘za
At least 1.5 cups of shredded, whole milk, low-moisture mozzarella (again, depending on how cheesy you like your ‘za)
2 Tablespoons Parmesan or Pecorino
Pepper and oregano, to taste
Any toppings you may like (Ben and I dig mushrooms, and I won’t be taking questions at this time.)
INSTRUCTIONS
If your pizza dough is frozen, allow to defrost overnight. At least 2-5 hours before you’re ready to cook, oil a small casserole pan with some olive oil and place the dough in there. Cover with a dish towel, and allow to rise for at least 2 hours.
Preheat your oven to 400 degrees. Arrange your oven racks with one on the bottom and one towards the top, ensuring there is enough room for your cookie sheet to slide comfortably without hitting the broiler.
If your dough is particularly airy, punch it down. Oil a cookie sheet and toss your dough onto it. Using gentle motions, push your dough out until it forms a rough rectangle. It should be slightly thicker on the edges than in the center. If the center tears, simply pinch the dough together until it reattaches.
Working a little at a time, spoon your sauce into the center of the pizza and gently spread it out. Leave 1/4 inch to 1/2 inch of dough at the edges for crust.
Add your mozzarella on top of the sauce, then Parmesan, then any toppings you may want. Top with a sprinkle of pepper and oregano.
Bake in the oven on the bottom rack for about 20 minutes, until the bottom of your crust is golden brown. Transfer to the top rack for another 15ish minutes until the top is golden and the cheese is melted and bubbling. Allow to cook slightly before cutting and serving.
NOTES
Make sure your dough is purchased in a ball and isn’t sauce-ready—that rise really gives it the airiness of a Sicilian pie. My grandmother’s recipe actually calls for bread dough, specifically Bridgford Bread Dough, but I went to three markets and couldn’t find any. In college, I used to actually go to the pizza place near my apartment and buy raw dough off of them. So if you live near a pizzeria, see if they’ll sell you raw dough. Then you can skip the defrosting and rising. And if you really feel like making your own pizza dough, go with God, but that ain’t my journey!
Toppings are a personal choice, so do what you want there, but they need to be cooked before you put them on the pizza. (So brown your sausage all the way through before you sprinkle it on, if using.) Some favorites of my family have been mushrooms, sausage, pepperoni, and a sprinkling of basil at the very end. But the opportunities are endless!