Recently, I had the idea to make a buffalo chicken pizza. I already had chicken in the fridge marinating in the Louisiana Rub from Stonewall Kitchen, I just didn’t know what to do with it. With a little bit of poking around on the internet, I soon figured out that I wanted to make a pizza. With that, why not be a little creative, go for broke and make my own pizza crust? Again, I looked over the internet, looking for a dough recipe that didn’t call for yeast. It didn’t take long before I found it and it sure looked simple enough.
Friday seemed a good a day as ever and rather than lug my laptop upstairs with me, I took a picture of the recipe on the iPhone and went upstairs.
I took to gathering everything I needed for the dough:
Before I began to tinker with the dough, I retrieved the chicken that I had been marinating in the fridge overnight. It smelled absolutely delicious and looked as such.
Completely forgetting about making the dough momentarily, I put the chicken into a fry pan that had been heating on medium heat and let it cook.
When the chicken had finished cooking and I removed it from the pan and onto a plate, I began to work with the mix to create a dough. After some work, my hands were doughy, but I had the rough shape of a ball formed at the bottom of the bowl. It didn’t exactly look the most appealing, but hey, if this recipe was any good, I would use it rather than pick dough up from the store. It’s a start, right?
Because the chicken was still warm to the touch, I flopped the dough onto a cookie sheet that lined with parchment paper and rolled it out until the dough was even with the sides of sheet.
Then, hell broke loose. As it were, I was already using the iPhone to take pictures along the way because I had left my camera over Josh’s house the day prior to cooking and didn’t know this until I had begun cooking. That wasn’t too much of a problem until the iPhone began to die every time I would try to open the camera. So I had to switch to my phone camera.
While the dough soaked up the olive oil I rubbed along the crust (which seemed to work perfectly the last time I had made pizza), I set about lightly shredding the chicken and adding a touch of both hot sauce and ranch to the already seasoned chicken. They would act as the sauce mixture.
I then sprinkled mozzarella cheese atop the pizza and set it in the oven to cook.
As if my failed attempts at baking cookies in the past weren’t enough to remind me I wasn’t meant to be a baker, while I was waiting for the pizza to cook, I heard a loud “crack” come from the kitchen. It was worrisome, what had gone wrong this time? Sure enough, I opened the door to the oven and inside, Mum’s almost brand new cookie sheet was warped. There wasn’t much I could really do about it, and as such, I continued to let the pizza cook. Two or three minutes before the pizza was done, I heard another loud crack come from the kitchen and went to go investigate. The pan had un-warped itself and the pizza didn’t look… half bad. I let it finish cooking and then removed it from the oven, setting the cookie sheet on the stove.
While the pizza smelled delicious, when I cut a piece off and bit into it, it was awful. The chicken was delicious, but the crust was dense and tasted horrible. It was comparable to eating a flat bread, just not as delicious.
Although I would like to call it quits with making my own dough, I’m going to continue to tinker with dough recipes until I find one that is to my liking. I might work with this one some more, throw some herbs in while I’m making it, knead it some more, things like that. But until I do, I guess we can say baking: 2, me: 0.
Until next time,