Pizza Dough Fail, a.k.a Why Does Peter Reinhart Hate Me?

I made quite a few different pizza dough recipes this year.  The one I’ve liked the best (for flavor, ease of making, and general work-ability) has been Julia Child’s pizza dough recipe.

But I’m not here to tell you about that.

I’m here to tell you about pizza dough FAIL.

One of the fun things about this pizza dough was that it stuck to the peel so when you try to put it in the oven, the only thing that ends up on the baking stone is the toppings. And by 'fun' I mean 'not fun.'

A couple of years ago I came across this recipe for Peter Reinhart’s pizza dough.

I printed it out, intending to make it in the somewhat-foreseeable future.

But then it sat there.

And sat there.

And eventually it ended up under a pile of other recipes which ended up under some magazines until one day in a fit of cleaning I shoved them into a folder and later into a desk drawer.

Eventually I dug it out again, took a look at it and remembered, ‘Oh, yeah.  This recipe is THREE PAGES LONG.  I do not have that kind of stamina.’

So I put it away again.

Eventually, of course, I did make it.  Because why else would I be boring you with the most boring story of boringness ever, unless it is because I secretly hate you?

But let me tell you.

I hated this pizza dough.

Hated.

This pizza dough was like Brer Rabbit’s Tar Baby.

What?  You’ve never read about Brer Rabbit and the Tar Baby?

Here, I’ll wait while you go read it.

Or watch it.

Sad, misshapen dough of failure.

All I have to say is, this was the best way I knew to convey to you just how sticky and unworkable this pizza dough turned out to be.

It stuck to the bowl.

It stuck to the saran wrap.

It stuck to my hands.

It stuck to the pizza peel.

It stuck to the rolling pin.

It stuck to everything, threatening to destroy the kitchen and my sanity.

Sure, I probably should’ve doused everything with pounds of flour.

And yeah, my dough-shaping-skills could use some improvement.

But working with dough should never be as frustrating as this was—otherwise we would all hate baking and hate ourselves.

And as far as taste goes, I don’t think that it outranked the Julia pizza dough, as it tasted mostly of frustration and annoyance, with a little bit of ‘how the f—am I going to get this f-ing dough off of everything’ thrown in.

I’d give you the recipe here, but I don’t want you to think that I hate you.