Makes about 25 grissini
(25 cm long)
50g unsalted butter
200g whole milk
10g fresh yeast
375g strong white bread flour (see page 140) or Italian 00 (doppio zero) flour
3 generous tablespoons grated Parmesan
10g fine salt
Preheat the oven to 230°C, gas 8.
Melt the butter in a pan, add the milk and heat it gently until it just feels warm to the fingertips (37-40°C). Whisk in the yeast.
Put the flour, Parmesan and salt in a bowl, then add a little of the milk mixture at a time, mixing it in well with your hands until it forms a dough. Alternatively, mix in a food processor, with a dough hook, for 3 minutes on the first speed, then 6 minutes on the next speed.
Turn the dough out on a clean work surface (you don’t need any flour or oil), and dimple and fold as described on the previous page. Cover with a damp tea towel and leave for 30 minutes.
Repeat the dimpling and folding process and leave for another 30 minutes, again covered with the tea towel.
Cut the dough in half lengthways, flour your work surface and roll each piece out into a big rectangle.
Cut the dough across its width into strips about 1cm wide – you can use a sharp knife against a clean plastic ruler.
Roll each strip with your fingertips, starting at the centre and moving outwards in three movements, stretching the dough slightly as you roll. Press each end lightly with your thumb, to make an ‘ear’ shape. Lay on a non-stick baking sheet and leave to rest for 10 minutes.
Turn the oven down to 180°C, gas 4, and bake for 10-15 minutes, until crisp and lightly golden. Remove from the oven and let cool on a wire rack.
I was making a journey across London in a black cab one day and the driver asked me, ‘What do you do?’ I made the big mistake of saying, ‘I have an Italian restaurant.’ ‘So,’ he started, ‘what is it about pizza, anyway? It’s just tomatoes on toast, isn’t it? With a bit of cheese on top…’ and off he went. Well, all right; he had a point – probably the guy had never eaten the real thing.
In Italy, though, everyone understands that a proper Italian pizza (not what we call pizza al taglio – the thicker-based one that has come in from America) has to have the perfect balance between a thin crisp base and a softer garnish, which means that you have to eat it within 5-6 minutes of it coming out of the oven, or it will be soggy and spoilt. So you buy pizza in the baker’s shop, or from the guys who sell slices of it on the streets, straight from big wood-fired ovens – not from the chiller cabinet of the supermarket, or delivered from a takeaway. In Italy, we don’t think of pizza as something cheap that can be packed into boxes and driven around town. Not even if they threatened you with six years in prison, would you eat a takeaway pizza delivered on a motorbike!
The perfect pizza oven is a work of art, heated to 500° Fahrenheit, designed to give a combination of air rolling over the top of the pizza, while the bricks underneath seal the base immediately and it becomes so crisp that when it comes out of the oven and you cut a slice, it will be completely firm. I’m not saying anything that has a thick base of dough topped with tomato and cheese is bad – in fact, the kids love it; it’s just not pizza.
I am very proud of the pizza we introduced to London when I worked at the Red Pepper, and later during the time I was at Zafferano, when we launched Spiga and Spighetta, and though we don’t serve pizza at Locanda, we often serve these little pizzette to our guests with aperitifs, while they are waiting for their table. If you want to make big pizza instead of little ones, this recipe will make three – just bake them for about 10 minutes.
Bagna càôda (anchovy sauce) is a very typical sauce in the North of Italy. Not everyone likes anchovies, I know (in which case, serve the pizzette without the sauce); but, if you do, you can make up bigger quantities of it and store it in a squeezy bottle in the fridge, then just shake it up before you use it and drizzle it over pasta, or toasted bread rubbed with garlic, whatever you like…Though I would normally say buy anchovies in salt, this is one recipe that is traditionally done with anchovies in oil.
Makes around 24 small
pizzette for serving with
drinks, or 12 larger ones
375g strong white bread flour (see page 140)
200g water at 20°C
around 60g (about 4 tablespoons) extra-virgin olive oil
10g fresh yeast
10g fine salt
For the bagna càôda:
3 garlic cloves
3 tablespoons milk
1 small tin of good anchovies, drained
a little extra-virgin olive oil
knob of butter
For the topping:
15—20 cherry tomatoes, sliced
a handful of good olives, stoned and sliced
Put all the ingredients for the pizzette, except the salt, into a food mixer with a dough hook. Mix for 3 minutes on the first speed, then add the salt and mix for 6 more minutes on the second speed. The dough should be very soft and sticky. If working by hand, mix with a wooden spoon, rotating the bowl as you do so for about 5 minutes, then work it for another 5 minutes with your hands until the dough is smooth.
Turn the dough out on a work surface (you don’t need any flour), dimple with your fingers and fold (see page 140) and leave to rest for 20 minutes.
Lightly flour your work surface and roll out the rested dough thinly. Have ready 2 upturned baking trays.
With a 5-6cm diameter biscuit cutter, cut the dough into rounds. Lay them on the baking trays and put into the fridge for at least 4 hours – but no longer than 8. If you like, you can roll the trimmings of dough into rough grissini and bake them (see page 142).
A good hour or so before you are ready to bake, preheat the oven as high as it will go. If you have a baking stone, put it into the oven as soon as you turn it on; if you don’t have a stone, use a baking tray.
To make the bagna càôda: put the garlic in a small pan with the milk, bring to the boil and then turn down to a simmer and cook until the garlic is soft, about 10 minutes.
While the garlic is cooking, put the anchovies with a little olive oil and butter into a small bowl over the top of the pan and stir to ‘melt’ them – it will only take a few minutes. (Alternatively,