A tragic tale of love, loss, and heartache.






So I had some leftover smoked chicken I wanted to use up. It has been a while since I've made a pizza, and that sounded like fun, So I mixed up a basic pizza dough, with a little minced onion, and rosemary. After it had risen for an hour, I lit a fire of lump charcoal and hickory chunks in the Weber kettle.



I like to use a pizza stone on the grill. If I don't use one, I always end up scorching the crust, and the toppings don't get done. It's a typical day in Superior. 50 degree's, with a cold gusting wind coming right off that big lake. I don't dare put a cold stone on a hot grill, as I've had a little experience with thermal shock. On two seperate occasion's, Ive broke glass carboy's, by rinsing the cool glass vessel with warmish water. I know a few degree's can have a very dramatic, and fatal effect on glass, ceramic, stoneware, ect., so I gently warm the stone in my oven.



When the fire is almost ready, I pull out my warmed stone, and begin building my masterpiece. Normally, I tend to overload the pizza with topping's, but this time I'm going for a minimalist style pizza, with a cracker crust like Vintage pizza does. I sprinkle a little corn meal on the stone so the pizza doesn't stick, and stretch my dough as thin as I can directly on the stone. A thin layer of roasted red pepper alfredo sauce, is followed by 2 inch long thin slices of onion, and green pepper. Theses I arrange alternately into a spiral pattern around the pizza. Next is the smoked chicken. This I'm a little more liberal with. The last ingredient is a light dusting of shredded mozzarella.



The fires ready, so onto the grill goes my warmed stone complete with pizza. Without the wind, it would be downright pleasant outside. The birds are singing, gentle wafts of hickory smoke are coming out of the Weber's vent, and a squirrel is sitting on a lower branch of the poplar tree, quietly observing the whole process. All is right with the world. I should give the squirrel some peanut's.



After 20 minutes, the crust is golden brown, and the sauce and cheese are starting to bubble. This is truly a thing of beauty. I grab a couple of potholders from the house, and prepare to feast.



I gently lift it off the grill, and turn towards the back door just as a blast of cold Lake Superior wind hits me head on. The pizza stone explodes in my potholdered hands. I watch as if in slow motion as my pizza does a beautiful half twist in mid air before landing face down in the freshly mowed grass. There I stand in disbelief, with a stone shard in each hand, and my ruined supper at my feet. I could've sworn I heard that squirrel laughing. no more peanuts for him.



The home brewed Blonde Ale took the edge off, kind of, I guess, but that microwaved ham n cheese hot pocket I ended up choking down was a sad substitute for the dinner that should have been...