Christmas felt extra peopley this year. I’m not sure why, especially since we only have one kid at home now. Maybe because Christmas fell mid-week? Maybe because “getting together” involved adult kids, and adult kids feel more like “real” people? Maybe because some of the gatherings happened in the morning which meant it felt like they took up the whole day? Maybe because there was so freaking much food? In any case, here’s what went down in the last week, give or take. 

The day before Christmas, my parents hosted a wood cutting party and pancake breakfast. For those unfamiliar with this practice, a wood cutting party means that we all go out in the woods to split and stack wood according to my dad’s specifications/methods.

This time around, he’d already felled the trees and we just split wood and then threw it into piles where they’ll be left to cure before getting hauled over to our respective houses. (My dad sees to it that all of our houses — mine, my brother’s, and my parents’ — are cozy and warm all winter long.) 

For the breakfast, my dad made multiple batches of pancake mix from scratch.

segmented bag of premeasured pancake mix
^{photo credit: my younger daughter}

And then we cooked everything outside: bacon, sausages (I’d pre-fried them), eggs, pancakes, fruit toppings, coffee etc, etc.

Everyone stuffed their faces, froze their butts off, and then sat around by the fire visiting before rolling ourselves on home.

That evening, all our kids came over for our traditional Christmas eve cheese supper.

I’d felt like I hadn’t properly prepped for the meal — the only “special” thing I’d bought was some assorted charcuterie meats from Costco — but after a bit of pantry rummaging, an actual festive meal of sorts began to emerge: we’d scored some leftover shrimp from a birthday party, and I had a respectable stash of pickles, crackers, and dried fruit, and then last minute I made a cheeseball to fulfill the spreadable soft cheese requirements. 

The next morning, my younger son surprised us with gifts. He’d gotten my husband a toaster that claimed to toast 50% faster, so they ran a test. (The claim was accurate.) Bonus: the new toaster is smaller so it takes up less room on the counter.

I set out Christmas cookies for breakfast, and then all the kids met up at our place.

I’d texted them earlier in the week that my husband and I would be going for a hike on Christmas Day and anyone who wanted was welcome to join. All of them wanted, it turned out, plus three dogs, so all of us hiked the 8-mile Bird Knob Trail. 

Normally, when we hike with people, we have all sorts of conversations, but this hike was almost completely devoid of any conversation (minus all the dealing-with-dogs chatter). Just, the seven of us silently trudging along for hours. It felt kinda weird, but also kinda nice. 

By this point, I was getting fed up with all the fancy food so supper was a plate of plain old (delicious) salad.

(Actually, I remained tired of food for the next five days. I mean, I liked it and I ate it, but I was also tired of food, food, food. Only now am I beginning to regain my normal levels of food enthusiasm.)

The day after Christmas, we met up with a bunch of friends for brunch. 

The next day my family had our gathering, a progressive meal.

Part One, at my parents’ house for mochi, a traditional Japanese New Years dish. My sister-in-law steamed the sticky rice and then the kids all took turns pounding it in a wooden “bowl” that my brother made.

The rice “dough” got shaped into balls, dipped in soy sauce, and then wrapped in nori. Some of the mochi got topped with bean paste.

Every year people die from choking on the gelatinous mochi, my sister-in-law said, so all the while we were eating, we were yelling, “small bites!” and “don’t die!” at each other. Very festive.

Part Two, my house for pizzas, my mom’s coleslaw, and my sister-in-law’s deep fried pork sandwiches (which were freakishly amazing). 

paper plates: this is how you can tell I was getting sick of food and cooking

Part Three, at my brother’s house for a cookie potluck. We sang our Christmas song, and then did a white elephant exchange with things my mother had collected from the thrift store over the last year. I scored a head lamp.

And there you go! That was the bulk of the socialization, though there was also an afternoon hang with some girlfriends, a game of Ultimate, work at the bakery, etc. In between the feasting and people-ing, my husband did some attic dunging out and spiffing up of our younger daughter’s bedroom and upstairs hallway: patching walls, painting, window washing, installing new blinds. 

His exact words: “If you hear a loud noise, call J. Don’t even bother to look.”
(J is an ER nurse.)

And now it’s the week after Christmas and we’re back to our low-key schedule and scrappy meals. It’s glorious. 

This same time, years previous: fun to watch, cheese tasting: round three, the quotidian (12.30.19), 2017 book list, family magnified, our apocalypse, tamalada!.

I first learned about the Ooni oven from a friend. She and her husband had invited us for supper, and the day of, she sent me a video of the supper in progress: homemade pita baking in her Ooni oven. I stared at my phone, mouth open, as the pita puffed into a perfect ball. From start to finish, it took about 45 seconds. They tasted incredible, too. Chewy and soft and toasty, they were the best pita ever. I was smitten.

At my request, my family went together and got me an Ooni for my birthday.

The kids made pizza with it that night, of course, and it was pure chaos — mountains of dough, the wrong kind of wood, all the toppings, a fair bit of scorching, and they’d forgotten to cure the oven, too. Even so, we feasted.

Since then, I’ve been working to refine my pizza-making skills.

But first, what makes the Ooni so great? Oh, let me count the ways!

• It’s wood-fired — it uses only the tiniest amount of wood — which adds wonderful flavor. (If you prefer a gas-fired oven, you can get an Ooni that cooks with either gas or wood, and then get the gas attachment.)
• It takes only 20-30 minutes for the oven to heat to about 900 degrees, and only about 2 minutes to cook a pizza.
• Ooni pizza is completely different from kitchen oven pizza. Both are good — just, entirely different.
• PITA.
• It makes for a fun “event” meal. Serve drinks, set out salad fixings, and then make pizzas while everyone mills about.
• It’s portable! We took it with us when we went to New York for Thanksgiving and made Friday night pizzas for the whole gang. People were so impressed that two or three of the other households immediately began research into getting their own Oonis. 

After a bunch of trial and error, we’re finally falling into a pizza-making routine.

Thus far, I’ve learned that King Arthur’s 00 pizza flour makes a huge difference. I haven’t tested AP flour vs 00 Flour for oven pizza, but I have compared the two with the Ooni: the 00 flour is much easier to handle and yields a more chewy, thin crust, while regular flour makes for a more doughy, puffy crust. I found some bags of 00 flour at Costco, but they were expensive (about $7 for a 3-pound bag). However, at the Thanksgiving gathering, my brother-in-law (who happens to be a grocery store distributor) sourced a 50-pound bag from Webstaurant for $48. Ba-BAM.

Also! Shaping the dough into balls and then letting them rest for 30-60 minutes prior to the final shape yields perfectly round pizzas. Throwing dough is easy, fun, and effective. A proper pizza peel minimizes the clumping of raw pizza and oven-baking casualties. And cook-time works best as a two-person job: I shape and assemble pizzas while my husband bakes, slices, and serves. 

Go easy on the toppings. These are thin pizzas, and they are all about the crust. Think of the toppings as garnish. (White pizza is a hit. Drizzle the oil from some marinated feta over the crust and then scatter some chunks of mozzarella and a bit of crumbled feta over top. That’s it.)

Pizza dough without toppings tastes an awful lot like really delicious na’an, and pita’s a breeze. I mean, seriously. LOOK:

the pita is AMAZING

They say you can make all sorts of other food in an Ooni, like steak and veggies, but I haven’t branched out much. I have roasted peppers, which were delicious, and I think I’d like to roast some chopped veggies while the oven is heating — you know, to put on the pizzas — but besides those things, I’m perfectly content with using the Ooni just for pizza. 

I realize that a one-purpose tools feels gadgety, but the Ooni doesn’t feel that way to me. We have always regularly made pizza, and the Ooni transforms the process and elevates the end result. I still have lots of experimenting to do — I’d like to try a thicker crust pizza, and make more flatbreads to go with curries and stews — but the truth is, just using it to make plain old pizza is worthwhile enough.

 Ooni Pizza Dough
Adapted from the Ooni Recipe Website

If you don’t have 00 pizza flour, use regular bread flour. It’ll still be delicious.

I make this dough frequently enough that I’m writing down the recipe for several different proportions, for easy mathing. The number of people each batch will feed depends on what else is being served, of course. I recommend a giant salad, or raw veggies for munching.

If you’re aiming for a 6:00 p.m. supper, start the dough at around 2:00 p.m.

I make my dough in the Kitchen Aid mixer, but you can also do it by hand.

for five pizzas (feeds 5-7 people)
368 grams warm water
3.5 grams yeast
613 grams 00 flour
18 grams salt

for eight pizzas (feeds 8-12)
552 grams warm water
5.25 grams yeast
919 grams 00 flour
27 grams salt

for ten pizzas (feeds 10-16)
736 grams warm water
7 grams yeast
1226 grams 00 flour
36 grams salt

Mix the yeast and water. Let it rest for 5-10 minutes. Add the flour and salt. Knead for 6-10 minutes. Let the dough rise for 2 hours. 

Divide the dough into 200 gram pieces and then shape each piece into a ball. Set the balls on an oiled tray, or a tray sprinkled with semolina or flour. Dust the tops with flour and cover with a damp towel. (Do not cover with plastic — it will stick to the dough.) Let the dough rise for 30-60 minutes, or just until relaxed and slightly puffy.

To shape the dough: place a ball of dough on a floured surface. Using your fingertips, press it into a circle. Using a rolling pin, roll it into a bigger circle. Throw the dough: toss-spin it in the air 8-12 times. 

Place the dough on a floured (or semolina-ed) pizza peel. Spread with toppings. 

Bake in the ooni, watching closely and turning as needed. Transfer the pizza to a cutting board. Slice and serve!

regular AP flour makes a thicker crust

This same time, years previous: 2023 garden stats and notes, the talk, the 2020 book list, a Christmas spectacle, right now, balsamic-glazed roasted butternut squash and brussel sprouts, 2016 garden stats and notes, remembering Guatemala, a mistake-based education.

Recently, I read a novel and, rather uncharacteristically, I loved it. In fact, “heart-clutchingly good” were my exact words, I think.

(To be clear, I’ve always adored Strout’s writing, so my enthusiasm isn’t coming completely out of nowhere.)

Now, I’m reading another novel. (I know. Whatever has come over me!) The characters are so strong, so well-defined and interesting and vigorous, that it’s like they’ve been slammed onto the pages. The writing is fragmented, but I don’t care. I’m having too much fun hanging out with the characters, trying to figure out who the hell they are. 

***

Monday mornings when I’m at work, I catch up on my Fresh Air podcasts. If it’s a quiet morning, I can often get through three full interviews listened to before the bakery fills and discussion picks up.  

Recently, I listened to this interview with Jon Batiste. I love listening to Jon talk. There’s such a thoughtfulness to him, and he has an openness that’s refreshingly unguarded. He’s at the piano during the interview, and it’s like the piano is a third character. I get the impression that he’s thinking with the piano, and even though the musical technicalities fly right over my head, I feel included, as though I belong there with him, with the music.

Here’s a clip of him playing Für Elise from his Beethoven Blues album:

And if you still want more, listen to Part Two of his interview with Terry Gross, a segment about Christmas music (which I haven’t finished quite yet).

***

Last week we signed up for Hulu, the ad-free subscription. (I am so sick of ads!) The plan is to have the subscription for just these winter months so I can catch up on all the fun shows I’ve been missing, like Only Murders In The Building and Fleishman Is In Trouble. Right now, we’re finishing up season two of The Bear. I’d quit it halfway through because I was sick of all the yelling, but then people told me I really ought to stick with it.

They were right. The yelling has subsided and the characters are developing. (It’s about time.) 

Anything else I should definitely not miss while we’ve got Hulu?

***

My brother texted a couple weeks back that my nephew was learning a round in school. Maybe we’d like to all learn it and then sing it together at Christmas? Two hours later, while I was sitting in the Verizon parking lot waiting for my husband (who was purchasing a much-needed new phone), I pulled up the video and learned it right then and there.

I’m sure I looked a bit strange, waving my hands around and singing to myself, but I didn’t care. It’s my new favorite Christmas/Solstice song, and I think everyone ought to learn it. (But only if you want to, of course.)

***

I’m sure you’ve all seen this before, but on the off-chance you haven’t, this short film of Dick Van Dyke is pure gold. It makes me feel happy, in the deepest sense of the word. 

All my love, friends. All my love.

This same time, years previous: good news, bad news, Christmas eve morn, wedding weekend: the officiation, chocolate bourbon pie, or something like that, 2018 book list, sex for all creation, 2015 book list, 2014 book list, flat.