Pizza Sauce and Mom stories

Mom just got back from an accidentally extended trip to China after she decided to visit Macau on a whim, despite the fact her visa only allowed her one entry to China. Needless to say, the strict Chinese border guards wouldn't let her back into the country, so she missed her flight home last Tuesday.

Eventually, China gave her a new visa and let her back in, but not after she and her friend Shirley ran out of money, which is kind of a sin in one of the gambling capitals of the world. Maybe they really needed that little respite, though. After all, Shirley had just married off her daughter and had been running around during her whole "vacation."

So when they got back to Guangzhou, it was their first chance to really relax during their time there. Which meant they did Mom's favorite thing: They went out to dinner. But although Mom at first acted like she was complaining about going out to eat those last couple of nights, then she said:

"Well, it's not like here," she said. "We had fish head, and you know, the tubes inside the chicken." Um, no, I don't actually. Because they're chicken intestines, which to my Americanized palate makes Chicken Gizzards seem as tame as chicken breasts.

But I'm excited she got to go back to her homeland after so many years. Even if it was a bit horrifying in the end and it's unlikely she will ever return, at least she was able to enjoy the extra time she had there.

All of her talk made me feel extra guilty for making such a boring pizza this weekend, but I'll still share the delicious sauce I made.

Pizza Sauce

1/4 c. olive oil

1/2 c. chopped onions

2 cloves garlic, minced

1/2 t. red pepper flakes

2 14.5-oz. cans Italian Recipe Stewed Tomatoes

1/4 c. basil, chopped chiffonade

1/2 t. kosher salt

Heat olive oil in a wide saucepan. Add onion and saute until soft, about 5 minutes. Add garlic and red pepper flakes for last minute. Add tomatoes and simmer for about 30 minutes, uncovered.

Let cool for about 5 minutes, then pulse in a food processor to desired consistency. I like mine still a bit chunky. Add basil and salt, then spoon onto pizza before serving. This is the perfect amount for a 16-inch pizza.

Barbecue Chicken Pizza from scratch

Every time I make homemade pizza, I get so excited to eat it that I forget to take a picture first. But after meeting with the Dans over the weekend and discussing the joys of food blogging, I shamed myself into remembering at least this once. And I'm sort of glad that I've waited until now to finally get a shot of my pizza, because this one is the most beautiful yet.

There's definitely a steep learning curve when it comes to throwing pizza dough, and it's taking me a long time to master the skill. But without this tutorial from the Seattle P-I (pdf), I might not have even bothered to try. It keeps getting easier each time (even if I did end up with flour practically from head to toe!), so I'm determined to keep trying until I make the perfect crust.

As far as the pizza itself, there's not much to the recipe. I started by shredding the last two leg quarters from the Orange Chicken for a Crowd that I made on Friday. Look how pretty that dish turned out!

But unfortunately, chicken quarters are actually a bit difficult to eat. And I thought I was being really brilliant because using breasts and legs cut down on the chicken pieces I had to glaze. But it just doesn't seem worth it if I'm completely inconveniencing my guests at the dinner table. I think next time I'll use chicken thighs and drumsticks, or maybe even follow the recipe and simply use two whole cut-up chickens!

Anyway, since I was too lazy to go to the store and we didn't have tomatoes, pizza sauce or mozzarella cheese, I used Sweet Baby Ray's barbecue sauce as the base, covered it with the chicken, cheddar cheese and about four slices of diced, cooked bacon, then baked it on our new pizza stone (thanks Stephen!) at 450 degrees Fahrenheit for about 20 minutes. After it came out of the oven, I topped it with some sliced green onions.

And the end result was absolute deliciousness.