Pissaladiere is a French pizza. Its crust is most similar to Neapolitan pizza crust – but it’s thin and more cracker-like rather than thin and chewy. It uses no red sauce – just caramelized onions, olives, and anchovies. Quite a few anchovies.
I’d always thought it was a little bit of a pain to make and so, in my carefree way, I Never. Made. It.
And yes, this was a huge mistake, OK? But with a little help, I was able to overcome my lazybones attitude. Call it Pissaladiere therapy.
Sometimes the best kind of therapy is just hearing a friend say “I did this – why don’t you try it?”
One day my friend Susie stopped by with – count ’em – not one but two Pissaladiere. They were steaming hot and so painfully delicious that we had a hard time thanking her around mouthfuls of crisp crust, gloriously sweet caramelized onions, tangy Nicoise olives, and anchovies, lots of anchovies!
“I was just making Pissaladiere and I thought you and Bonney would like some so I made a couple of extra pies.”
I wish all my friends were like that, don’t you!!?
“Susie, you shouldn’t have – thank you, they’re {Chew, Snorf, Swallow} amazing {Take second piece, inhale it}!! What a lot of work, though – wow!”
“Oh, they’re really not hard to make. It was just as easy to make enough for a couple more while I was making what I needed.”
Knowing Susie, she may well have knitted 3 scarves, a sweater and a doggie jacket while preparing the Pissaladiere, she is – amazing – that way, but I digress! The point is, she did it. Therefore, I could do it. And – by a leap of logic – you can do it!
Encouraged by Susie’s wild bound into mass production of Pissaladiere, I began making my own. I liked the Cook’s Illustrated recipe. I liked Ina Garten’s recipes. I ended up with something that took a bit from both these remarkable sources, to whom I bow down in the evening before retiring. And – you know, it turned out to really be not too tough to make. Read on – in a little while, you will own this dish! Read the rest of this entry »