Healthy pizza. The holy grail. The comfort-food equivalent of the fountain of youth. Someone with too much time on their hands and horrifically little respect for the gastronomic value of refined carbohydrates actually figured out how to make a pizza out of cauliflower, essentially getting rid of the need for one to stuff oneself with bready goodness. Which, for the record, is a notion I do not support at all.
The cauliflower pizza’s been floating around in internet-land for a while now, and I’ve even seen it made on the BBC’s Saturday Kitchen (invoking the ire of James Martin in the process because he is a fine, upstanding citizen who knows whassup), which makes it practically mainstream. So, basically, I’m not saying there are any new ideas here. I’d hate for people to think I was amazing at cooking and also full of original ideas…
So, without further ado, here are the steps to making your very own healthy pizza, for days when you’re depressed, but not quite depressed enough.
For the crust: 2.5 cups of grated Cauliflower, 1 large beaten egg, 1.25 cups grated mozarella cheese.
For the toppings: All the fun things (But choose the un-fun diet versions if you want to keep the health value and lose my respect).
Step 1: Visit one shop in order to buy ingredients you don’t have. Because, seriously, who keeps their home supplied with a healthy stock of cauliflower in the middle of summer?
Step 2: Find no cauliflower in the section which seems to have all of the other boring vegetables. You know the section. It has potatoes and stuff. Nothing sexy, like chillies. It’s like the bookish section that always has its homework in on time. Find the above weirdness, which kind of looks like a cauliflower, but the whole idea of cauliflower pizza is bizarre enough, so put it down, because you don’t want to rock the boat any further.
Step 3: Leave the shop feeling disappointed, but secretly thrilled. Consider the fact that if you were any kind of decent, committed human being you would go to the one next door, or the one next door to that, and try again. Dismiss this immediately because it is hot and if your only reward for the extra effort is going to be below-par pizza that takes twice as long then what is the point?
Step 4: When you get home, open freezer. Remove frozen pizza. Unwrap and bake to delicious, greasy perfection. If you’re feeling like a big spender, or just think you’re better than the rest of us, order one. It’s probably worth it, and you’ll probably find me pressed against your window, fogging up the glass. But don’t let that put you off. Ooh, look at the dipping sauce. None of that fancy shit on my frozen one…
Step 5: Enjoy pizza. With every mouthful, enjoy the flavour of delicious not-vegetable. Mmm.
Best served with alcohol. Because life is unfair, but wine is delicious.