Growing up, we had pizza one Friday a month. My sisters and I split a bottle of Pepsi, and we'd share a Kraus' sausage pizza. I can imagine what you're thinking, "A pizza shop with a German name?" I know, but that pizza rocked. Back in the day, we didn't have teenagers delivering our pies, so my sisters and I would tag along with one of our parents to the shop where Larry Kraus was baking pizzas for everyone in Massillon. The windows of the shop were perpetually covered in steam, and the place was always around 90 degrees. It was wonderful to walk in there on a cold winter night and leave with a pizza that would keep your lap warm the whole way home. In spite of the ethnic disconnect, Larry looked the part of a pizza chef. He was a big guy, who sported a Van Dyke beard, stood about six foot one and weighed 300 pounds. A white apron covered him from chest to knees, and it was adorned with Rorschach blots of sauce. His face was covered in a thin sheen of perspiration which he'd constantly wipe off with his forearm, slicking back his thick salt and pepper hair in the process. He and my mom had gone to high school together, and he knew our whole family-and probably everyone else's in town-by name.
There was a rumor in Massillon that Larry had even shipped some half baked pizzas over to Vietnam to during the war, they were so craved by our local troops. I have no idea if that was true or not, but it was widely accepted. Last Thanksgiving, I was in my hometown after a seven year absence, and the first thing I wanted was a Kraus' pizza. My sister, Betsy, accommodated my request, and while the pizza was pretty good, it just wasn't the same. My friend Lori hypothesized this is because Larry no longer bakes the pizzas, and the sweat he was perpetually wiping was actually an essential ingredient now lacking.
After sampling a deep dish Giordano's pizza in Chicago, I now believe that to be the best pie I've ever had, because I love a thick crust. Minnesota does not have a good pizza, at least not that I've found, so I'm forced to bake my own. My sister Betsy graciously gave me the secret to perfect homemade pizza and now that I'm on the low carb plan, she tipped me off to a delicious alternative. I'll start with the deep dish pizza first, since it's the most decadent.
Betsy's Homemade Pizza
One loaf frozen bread dough, thawed
1/2 stick butter, melted
2 cloves garlic, crushed
Dei Fratelli Pizza Sauce (this is the BEST sauce there is-no doctoring necessary. Even though I love the Mid's sauce family enough to marry it, their pizza sauce is merely a close second to Dei Fratelli)
Deli slices of provolone cheese
Toppings of choice, minced onion, minced red pepper, mushroom, sausage, pepperoni, ground beef or anything else you enjoy on your pie
Penzey's Pizza Seasoning
This recipe can be made deep dish style or in a traditional crust, either way, I use the Pampered Chef line of stoneware products to bake the pizza. The deep dish baker for a thick crust, or the large round stone for a traditional. Pick your method, then coat the stone with organic extra virgin olive oil. Knead the bread dough to the desired shape, and place on stone. Top with the desired amount of sauce, coating up to one inch of the border for the crust. Top with the provolone cheese, desired toppings and sprinkle with the pizza seasonings. Melt the butter and garlic, then brush it on the crust. Bake on the lowest rack in your oven for 10-15 minutes or better yet, grill on medium heat for ten minutes or until crust is golden brown and cheese is bubbling. I usually brush the crust with more garlic butter about halfway through the cooking cycle...mmmmm.
The low carb version uses Santa Fe Whole Wheat Tortillas which I buy in bulk from Sam's Club. There's only 6 grams net carbs in each. The only difference in the technique is I don't coat the tortilla with garlic butter. It's not the same as a thick and crusty pizza, I won't lie to you, but it's good enough to satisfy a craving. Bake the pizzas on a cookie sheet for ten minutes at 400 degrees.
