a pizza experiment

 

Have you seen those cauliflower crust pizza recipes floating around on Pinterest? I’ve been curious about them for awhile now (and, admittedly, rather skeptical) and since the weather has been nothing but a cold gray fog for the past few weeks, I decided to channel my creative energies into something warm and cozy and (hopefully) yummy, where the ugliness of the outdoors doesn’t matter: solving the mystery of cauliflower crust pizza.

I thought for sure the crust would fall apart, or taste like boiled cabbage, or something of the sort. But strangely enough… it was really rather delicious. It tasted like pizza, not cauliflower… but without any of those nasty white carbohydrates. And just in case anyone else was curious about this phenomenon, I thought I’d share my recipe (which I adapted from one I found here) and results with you. :)

Ingredients

• one head of fresh cauliflower
• one egg
• 1-1/2 cups shredded pizza cheese of your choice, divided
• 1 tablespoon Italian seasoning
• 1/4 teaspoon salt
• 1/8 teaspoon pepper
• 1 cup pizza sauce of your choice

Directions

1. Wash the cauliflower thoroughly; remove leaves and thick core and cut the remainder into florets. Dry the florets in a towel (the less moisture, the better!). Using the pulse action on your food processor, chop the cauliflower until it is about the size and texture of cooked rice.
2. Spread the cauliflower evenly over a baking sheet lined with aluminum foil. Warm in the oven at 170 degrees for 30-40 minutes, leaving the oven door propped open so that moisture can escape.
3. Remove cauliflower from the oven and pour onto a clean towel. Squeeze out as much excess moisture as possible.
4. Place cauliflower in a medium mixing bowl. Add egg, 1/2 cup cheese, Italian seasoning, salt, and pepper and mix well.
5. Press the mixture evenly onto a parchment-lined baking sheet in a circle or square shape, as desired. You’ll want it pretty thin (I kept mine under 1/4 inch).
6. Bake the crust at 450 degrees for 15-20 minutes, until firmly set and golden brown.
7. Spread sauce and remaining cheese over the top of the cooked crust, as desired.
8. Broil the pizza until the cheese is melted and bubbly, as desired.

*Remember, if you wish to add meats to this pizza, they will need to be pre-cooked because the topping is only broiled.

Yep. Yummy. Getting the cauliflower in “riced” state is a bit of a pain, but I feel a heck of a lot better knowing that if I ever have to go gluten free—there will still be pizza!!

grace, weekly // 2

 

i. the wistful silence of October’s colorful end, and the close of another visit to my Pennsylvania home.

 

 

ii. a peanut butter fudge milkshake (yes, of course it’s from Ritchey’s).

 

 

iii. this beautiful family letting me take some pictures of them.

 

 

iv. this man and only 111 more days.

 

 

v. when the airplanes wait on wet tarmac while the sky cries silver tears, as if it can feel the hurt in my heart when I say goodbye.

 

 

vi. a vase of petunias on the sunlit November sill.

 

 

vii. music.

 

There is a certain place deep in my heart that this song pricks with melancholy. Not because of my own regrets, but because it hurts a little bit to know that most of the world is wondering what happened to the “good ol’ days” and wondering why we only let them seem good when they’re so long gone. Someday, today will be the good ol’ days. I can see it: the bloom of youth beginning to pass, the passions of a carefree heart giving way to the die-for-you love of motherhood, and looking back to wonder where the years went. But why look back and wonder why I didn’t love my life and the blessings in it as much as I should have “back then,” when I can choose to change my view of life in the now? Harder, yes, this contentment and joy—but invaluable.

 

 

viii. words. 

I watch the hands move grace on the clock face. I’m growing older. These children growing up. But time is not running out. This day is not a sieve, losing time. With each passing minute, each passing year, there’s this deepening awareness that I am filling, gaining time. We stand on the brink of eternity.

- Ann Voskamp, One Thousand Gifts

 

 

ix. Bible.

 

Grace upon grace—blessing upon blessing. It gushes into our lives from the blood of His wounds and the pulse of His resurrection. It is His death for us and His life with us. I can’t not be thankful.

 

 

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carisa and don