I don't know how I missed this post way back in Sept. of last year, as I usually check the blog every day. I have especially enjoyed all the "Baking Through the Decades" posts, but I think this one might be my favorite. I come from a Sicilian family, and grew up in Brooklyn, NY in the 50's. I don't even remember a time when we didn't eat pizza. We would usually have it on Sunday evening, because pizza was never a "real dinner". On Sunday, dinner was at 1: 00 in the afternoon - pasta, sauce, meatballs, brasciole. My grandmother made pizza dough in the afternoon, and by seven in the evening, we'd all be hungry enough to have a slice or two. She used the sauce that was left over from that afternoon's dinner, sprinkled with oregano, slices of mozzarella, and at least one pan had anchovies, or slices of my grandfather's home cured dried sausage. All of us kids hoped that there would be leftovers, because that meant we could eat it for breakfast the next morning! Thick slices of pizza - the breakfast of champions! I never tasted a piece of store bought pizza until I was a teenager, and I remember thinking to myself, "What in the world IS this stuff?" I was horribly spoiled! I have never been able to reproduce the flavor of my grandmother's pizza, even though my mother handed on the dough recipe, but I think that has more to do with wonderful memories, than actual flavor.

• Reply