The Mulberry Pancakes Mike style were a hit and there were no trips made to the ice cream store or even refrigerator. But then for Mike’s birthday dinner I made pizza with figs, bacon and ricotta . . . and it got Miked. Let me explain.
I made a nice crust with some of the last bits of my sourdough starter before I chucked it to try a new starter method. A simple mix of rye and red fife wheat flours, an overnight rise, a stretch into a rectangular baking sheet, and into the oven with unfiltered olive oil (killer strong and funky!!), grey sea salt and Peads & Barnetts mangalitsa bacon. Everything’s pretty much artisan and/or heirloom up to this point except the Brita filtered tap water I used. After about 5 minutes on near-broil, I stuck a mound of salad greens mix and sliced first-of-spring figs that I’d tossed with oil n balsamic. Another 5 minutes, out of the oven, and I crumbled some fresh ricotta on top and some sunflower sprouts around the perimeter. That last flourish wasn’t part of the plan but I had to come up with something to cover the burnt crust on one side.
This was the night we had the “blood moon,” so I took the finished creation out onto the porch where Mike was relaxing & enjoying the lunar event. He pretty much inhaled it. A hit!
I felt good that there was plenty of the pizza left, because I would need to work late the following night and wouldn’t be home to prepare dinner. Not that I’m the only one who can cook in our household . . . far from it . . . but during the week when we’re both working I like to have on hand one or two partially prepared dinner options in the fridge.
When I came home from work later than normal bedtime time the next night, I was half awake. I opened the fridge for a drink . . . saw the pizza dish empty . . . and then this woke me up:
The pizza had been Mike-d. I would never think to add tomato sauce to figs . . . but then again ask an Ohio native if figs even belong on pizza!