So if you took the leap and made Tuesday’s “keen-wow” salad, I doubt you’ve yet made a significant dent in your big ol’ batch of the Bolivian people’s former staple food (if you read the New York Times article, you’ll know they now eat processed foods like most impoverished students did before they started making fancy meals for food blogs). Anyway, you should still be riding the wow-wave. Unless it’s the only thing you’ve been eating since Tuesday, which is the path my roommate had chosen until he finally caved and made a batch of his former staple, the frozen pizza.

Inspired by my roommate’s return to his own cultural comfort food and by a meal I made in my pre-blog life (henceforth PBL), I decided to kick it up a notch for my next column entry. I have to admit; I experienced a bit of performance anxiety during the write-up of round two, but hopefully it’ll be obscured by the brilliance of my creation: the gorgonzola-arugula-roasted-pepper-grilled-red-onion-shallot-and-sausage pita pizza.

Okay, so clearly I didn’t invent the notion of the pita pizza. People have been melting things onto other things that resemble pizzas in shape (think pizza bagels) or creating ethno-cultural versions that mimic pizza in appearance (think sushi pizza, popularized right here in Toronto), pretty much ever since the Italians brought their dish over onto this side of town. And for good reason. Melting stuff onto circles makes for a meal both easy to prepare and easy to divvy up. If those reasons don’t slice it, then I guess you should find yourself a square meal somewhere else. Pun intended. There’s a quota. It’s a food blog. But I digress.

Speaking of digression, since publishing Sal(i)vation, I begrudgingly Googled the name to see if any other foodie had indeed claimed it first. The good news is that nobody has, so in terms of Search Engine Optimization, I’m golden. Unfortunately, what I learned tonight about SEO is that for someone who isn’t already reading my column to find it, they’ll probably have to think of the pun themselves, and Google it to see if anyone else has thought of it already. Sound familiar? Either that, or they’ll be looking to find the novel, Sal(i)vation by Joseph Bertalmio, which, according to amazon.com is the story of Rip Parker, “a tabloid journalist whose sole purpose in life is to prey on the vulnerabilities of everyone who crosses him.” Apparently it falls into the genre of Science Fiction. Pretty sure that anyone trying to get their hands on a copy of Bertalmio’s book is probably not interested in reading about my foray into the world of food blogging.

But, dear readers, you are already here! Which means you were well enticed and have come back for seconds (or you’re the mother of my boyfriend/friends/my own mother). Either way, welcome back. This time around, we’re getting serious. The first thing you need for this recipe is to not keep kosher. And also not to not eat meat. Double negative for emphasis. I guess you could leave the sausage off to accommodate your vegetarian sensibilities, but vegans beware: the Gorgonzola comes on strong this time. No more hiding behind grains and seeds.

Here’s what you need:

• 2 Italian sausages (I recommend ones without corn syrup solids because lord knows corn syrup solids don’t belong in anything)
• 1 or 2 roasted peppers (you might have a pepper or two left over from preparing your keen-wow salad if you bought your peppers in bulk at Costco like I did, so you can use those)
• Half a shallot (I had half a shallot lying around from cheating on my food blog with another recipe, but it’s really not integral to the final outcome)
• Half a red onion (much more integral)
• 5 cloves of garlic (definitely integral, especially if you don’t plan on getting laid)
• Some arugula
• Enough Danish blue cheese or Gorgonzola to make this pizza worth your while
• Olive oil (it’s a recurring ingredient, and I have no idea how much you should set aside. Let’s just say you don’t want to play Channukah with this recipe)

Here’s what to do:

Bear in mind, this recipe is much more involved than the last one. You need to do things like pre-heat the oven, and remove sausage from its casings. Other than that, as I said, it’s really just melting things onto circles.

1. I’m going to assume that you haven’t already roasted your peppers. If you have, bravo. If you haven’t, turn your oven onto broil, coat your peppers in olive oil and place them on a baking sheet. Stick them in the oven and check on them intermittently while you chop up your garlic, shallot and onion.



2. Dry your tears, and put your garlic aside. Throw your shallot and onions together on the skillet with about a tablespoon of olive oil. Sautée.

3. Once these guys are nice and soft, remove them and put them in a bowl.

4. In the same skillet (don’t wash it), cook your sausage. WAIT! Before you cook your sausage, here comes the really involved part: remove your sausage from its casings. This just means grab a knife, and pierce the thin and embryonic-sac-like (sorry) outer layer of the sausage. Lightly slice down the middle and release said sausage. Then, using the same knife, chop the newly freed cylindrical mixture of pork, salt and spices (notice there’s no corn syrup solids in there?) into little pita pizza sized chunks.



5. Throw the chunks of pork onto the skillet and make sure they cook evenly and thoroughly, moving them around. Uh oh! Do you know where your peppers are?

6. Of course you do, because you should have been checking on them intermittently. They should be done. Take them out, and lower the heat to 425 degrees F.

7. While your peppers are cooling, lay out your pitas on a baking sheet. Using the back of a spoon (or a pastry brush, but what kind of impoverished student has a pastry brush lying around? Whatever you do, DON’T use any other type of brush), spread olive oil evenly across pita surface. Sprinkle your garlic on top, and stick the baking sheet in the oven so it can lightly toast.



8. While your pita is toasting, attend to the rest of your ingredients. This means organize them nicely and make sure they’re all chopped (especially the peppers) and ready to be gorgonzola-glued onto your pita circles.



9. When you start to smell the garlic roasting, take the pita out.

10. Pile on your ingredients . . . in whatever order you like! What creative freedom!



11. Stick your creation in the oven for about 8 minutes, or until the Gorgonzola is completely melted.

12. Congratulate yourself.

Now, because my roommate subsists on frozen pizza for about 90% of his food intake, I happen to have a pizza-slicer hanging around (don’t get the wrong idea about my cutlery drawer or utensil collection). This is useful in dividing the pizza into tapas-size pieces. This was particularly useful to me because I attended a pot-luck the night I made this pizza (don’t even get me STARTED on pot-lucks) and at events such as these, people seem to really get off on piling little bite size portions of things onto their plates. If your pita pizza is going to get eaten all in one sitting, by you and/or your friends, then there’s no need to fuss with triangles. Munch away.