You’re supposed to spend Yom Kippur thinking about important things. And I do. But I also spend a little time thinking about what I can’t do — eat. This year was perhaps worse than usual in terms of the food fantasizing.

I don’t know why I opted for pizza, but I spent most of the chazzan’s repetition for mussaf putting this one together in my head. Once home and napped, I put up the dough (my usual, courtesy of Culinary in the Country) and took care of the zucchini before heading back for the rest of services.

I’ve actually never used this side of the box grater before. Dad won’t let me get a mandoline (“You live alone; there’d be nobody to take you to the ER when you cut your finger off.”) and maybe I needed to be low enough on blood sugar to even consider it with the box grater. Nevertheless, all fingers were accounted for after this. Also, I was good and did not nibble.

My spray bottle of balsamic let me give these a spritz without drowning them and then a little pepper and then into the fridge.

I grabbed my basil during the day, since the back porch light doesn’t work and fetching herbs in the dark is No Fun. I took the artful photo, stuck the cup in the fridge, and went and back off to shul for minchah and neilah.

Back home again a few hours later, after a quick nosh and glug, it was time to assemble the rest of the pizza.

If there was an obvious fault with the pizza, it was that there was a skewed dough-to-stuff ratio. I only had the one slender zucchini, but I probably could have used another onion. On the other hand, the taste balance came out fine.

Sauteed with very little butter and a splash of dry vermouth. Very hard to leave them alone while getting everything else ready.

I’m still working on the ’round’ concept.

I gave it a par-bake and then started with the onions, then the zucchini.

Fresh shaved asiago and then the chiffonaded basil and then back into the oven.

It doesn’t look like much, but it was very tasty. Everything played off each other very well toppings-wise and the crust was properly firm on the bottom.

Not bad for an idea born of sheer hunger and idle thoughts.


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