Real Food Has Curves

It's the last of the weeks of our ham tour on this blog. All to celebrate the publication of the new book: HAM: AN OBSESSION WITH THE HINDQUARTER--which is now officially out and, as they say, available at fine stores everywhere. Or skip the stores and go online. Get yours here. While it's hot!

Today, we've got a pizza with prosciutto, one of a couple pies in the book--but one of about 25 recipes in a larger chapter that deals with all the European dry-cured hams, from jamón ibérico to sunca, from presunto to jambon d'ardennes, speck to jambon de vendée.

In some ways, these hams represent the very origins of pig curing. They are undoubtedly the ancestors of American country hams, like Virginia hams (and the Kentucky ones I found in the trip narrated in the book). And for many foodies, they're the sine qua non, the (as Aquinas called such a thing) first and final element.

Ha! A reference to Aquinas on a food blog. And a direct tie between medieval scholasticism and ham. My work is done here. Except for the recipe for today.

Which we made on an episode of Connecticut Style, hosted by the ridiculously fabulous Desiree Fontaine. That's Bruce on set, getting everything ready: the dough stretched, the prosciutto out, so we can descend into utter hijinks with Desiree.

First off, fire up the oven to 400F.

Now the crust. Listen, this one came from the supermarket. I know: we wrote a big pizza book. And it's got lots of crusts. But sometimes, you've just got to take the bubble off the boil, as we say in Texas.

Not that this store-bought crust was the easy way out. We didn't use one of those prebaked ones. We bought a 1-pound pizza dough. You can find them right in the dairy or other refrigerator case of your market, perhaps near the cheese. Failing that, walk into a pizza parlor. Ask for an unbaked, one-pound dough. It'll set you back a couple bucks.

You've got two ways to do this crust fandango: you can either get a pizza stone heating up in the oven (it'll take about 40 minutes to get good and hot) or you can make this pie on a baking sheet. With the stone, you'll need to put a little cornmeal on a pizza peel (or paddle), then shape the dough into a rough circle, about 10 inches in diameter. With the baking sheet, lightly oil it with some olive oil, then set the dough on it and stretch it into a rough, 7 x 10-inch rectangle.

In either case, here's the trick: set it on a flat, floured surface and dimple it with your fingertips, prodding it all over. Then pick it up by one side and put the fist of your other hand into the center, so that the dough drapes down around your wrist on all sides. Now pull and stretch a bit, tugging gently all around the edge while pushing up with your fist. Set it down and continue to pull it gently to the necessary side.

Top it with 2 ounces grated mozzarella or cubed fresh mozzarella as well as 2 diced, small Roma or plum tomatoes and 10 shredded basil leaves. Top that stuff with one, thawed, 9-ounce package frozen artichoke heart quarters, squeezed dry of most of their moisture, as well as 3 ounces diced prosciutto crudo, 1 ounce finly grated Parmigiano-Reggiano, 1/2 teaspoon dried oregano, and 1/2 teaspoon red pepper flakes. (Sets do get a little messy before the segment.)

Shake it on the peel a couple times to make sure it's loose before slipping it off onto the hot stone. Or simply put the pie on its baking sheet in the oven.

Bake until the cheese has melted and the crust is brown and firm to the touch, about 18 minutes. Slip the peel under the pie to get it off the stone and onto a wire cooling rack--or set the baking sheet on a wire rack to cool for 10 minutes before slicing and relishing.

See, you too can get obsessed with a hindquarter. 

By the way, want to see the whole clip of the show? Well, here it is: