Get Your Dough On!

Walking into the lobby of the downtown Il Fornaio restaurant, I was unsure of what to expect. All I knew was, there would be pizza, and that was good enough for me. My father-in-law had the good sense to sign us up for a pizza-making class. I’m so glad he took the initiative. Quite frankly, my crust is not a thing of beauty. Lets just say it has issues and leave it at that.

This particular branch is near and dear to me for a couple of reasons. More than a couple major life decisions and events have gone down there. Siege and I dined there the night I begg- I mean, asked her to marry me. It’s also one of the first places I was really introduced to regional Italian cuisine. I even worked there for a very brief moment. But, that is a story for another time.

Needless to say, I was fairly familiar with this restaurant. If there was a place on earth that would be able to cure my pizza crust “woes,” it would be the good folks at Il Fornaio. They’ve been making killer pizza and other baked goods since they opened their cooking school in Lombardia back in 1972. Their name means “The Baker” in Italian.

Let me assure you, I still had hesitations about going. A few questions were floating around my head as I cruised into the restaurant. Would it be awkward going alone (father-in-law had to cancel)? Will I see any of my former co-workers (I did)? Would I suck even with professional instruction (I actually didn’t)?

In the end, my concerns were needless. Bruno, the Chef-Partner, did an excellent job, along with the assistance of his two sous-chefs. The class was fun, very informative. Everybody seemed to enjoy the pizza and free house wine that was provided. Some, people were really enjoying the free wine. Every so often I would here a glass break, a strange cackle followed by the dreaded snort of doom, and various other jokes and comments one normally refrains from when in public. We were all in pizza-making euphoria, enjoying the wine, the easy banter, camaraderie and the skilled chefs’ advice.

The most beneficial tip for me was the step when you roll out your dough. At home, I usually manage to put together a decent dough that could be ingested, although at times it tended to be more cracker-like than chewy and tender. Once it would rise and it was time to get down to the good part, things would start to go south. The technique demonstrated at Il Fornaio was simple and effective. Prior to this class, I would merely slap down the risen dough on a floured work surface and go to town on it. It would end up looking more like the shape of Africa then a circle. The stubborn dough would snap back in place, taunting and laughing at me and my infantile experience. One of the sous-chefs, Israel, had a much more effective way of rolling out dough. He first would hold the dough in his hands and gently unfold the ball into a small circle about an inch thick. Next, he would gently hold the small circle by it’s edge, up in the air, quickly turning it and letting its weight do most of the work in creating a more circular form. He then put the dough down and continued to enlarge the circle by pushing out the edges and turning the dough at the same time. Once the dough is nearly the size and thickness you’re looking for, you can cheat a little and use a rolling pin to finish it off.

Seriously, SG readers, if you get a chance, definitely hit up one of these types of classes. You’ll have a great time, learn something, and meet some fun people, not to mention you might get a lot of free house wine to boot!

Next on SG:

A startling expose: “Swedish Made Meatballs and Me. This sort of thing is my bag, baby!”