I have a deep, passionate love for cooking. What do I do when there is not much I can control about life?? I cook. I cook and then I clean. This, my friends, is the best therapy known to man, in my book at least.
Last night, I made a pizza. This pizza came from a recipe I found from the "Pioneer Woman" online. I don't know what I liked better, the sweetness of the caramelized onions or the saltiness of the prosciutto. By the way, I still do not know how to pronounce "prosciutto." I stood at the deli counter last night trying to explain to the deli lady what I wanted to buy. Eventually, I just pointed it out and said, "just give me 8 slices." Little did I know, I pointed to the most expensive "prosciutto" there at the deli. It came all the way from Italy :)
The deli lady looked at me and said, "this prosciutto??"
"Yep! That is what I want."
Ten bucks for 8 slices of prosciutto that I couldn't even feel the weight of in my hands.
This better be the best damn prosciutto I have ever tasted...
Sure enough, after caramelizing the onions, making the dough, wildly fanning the smoke engulfing the smoke detector, then comforting Gus from all the excitement....I tasted a slice of heaven. Purely scrumptious with the burnt mozzarella and all, I am a fan, folks.
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