Last night, I had after-dinner plans with dear friend, M, to drink champagne and look at each other's wedding albums. As I had not laid eyes on mine in years and have only seen one of M's wedding pics, I knew it'd be a lovely way to spend a Monday evening. But first, migraine elimination and dinner. I pretty much gave up on the former but was determined to make a lovely meal regardless. During my writing class on Sunday, Lili told us about her son's new job as a line cook at one of John Besh's new spots in NOLA and in doing so dropped word of some ridiculously amazing pizza that included mascarpone, fresh figs and prosciutto. As I had just bought some figs and could not stop thinking about this pizza, I took a break from Jack's room yesterday afternoon to make a batch of Peter Reinhart's Neapolitan pizza dough.
After letting it rise for several hours, I pulled off about a sixth of the dough, shaped it into a thin crust and spread it with a film of mascarpone, some caramelized shallots I'd just made, sliced figs, salt, bacon (I just can't find the love for prosciutto; I do love speck but couldn't find it yesterday.) and a bit of fresh mozzarella. Once the pizza stone and grill were adequately heated, I popped this baby on until just done, spread some fresh arugula on top and dove in.
Today, my migraine is largely gone, Jack's room is finally clean, last night was so lovely and fun and I have two small wedges of figgy flatbread left!