We deserve a pizza. The California primary elections were this Tuesday, and we made it through without too much drama—though I was alarmed to learn only 19% of Los Angeles voters showed up to vote or mailed in ballots. Oy vey. What’s a flailing democracy to do? Eat pizza, I suppose. And climb the largest rock formations I can muster the courage to summit.
I’ve never been a climber. Over the past few weeks, I noticed this new impulse in myself: Where before I’d look askance at steep rock inclines, musing thoughtfully about the view from the top while remaining firmly on the ground, these days I leap at the slightest possibility of a climb. Feeling my feet and hands cling to slight imperfections in the rock face, creating grip where there seems to be none, is deeply reassuring. I am making steadiness where there was no guarantee.
Then, too, I crave the proof that I can get my body from low to high, from one place to, impossibly, the next. I want to feel strong, and I want to feel the earth’s solidity under my feet. I want evidence that I can change, move, flow, at the drop of a hat. And the view from the top isn’t bad, either. On Saturday, I convinced my visiting father to scale a cave-filled edifice in Red Rock Canyon State Park. At eighty, he slayed. Sunday, I scrambled to the top of a cliff-face in Malibu with a friend. We watched as a persistent fog rolled south down the coast, blanketing the shore in white mist. The sun disappeared, the water went grey, and we watched in awe, from above.
This desire to feel immediate evidence of physical capacity is, perhaps, my answer to the powerlessness I feel politically. The news continues to feel like a daily steam rolling, with no end in sight. So, I climb. Maybe I’ll find a climbing gym before my habit becomes dangerous.
In the meantime, I’m getting ready to head to Alaska in a couple weeks. I’m thrilled—I’ve wanted to set foot in our northern-most state my whole life. I can’t wait to take the journey with Copper River Salmon, and I’m preparing myself for moose and mountains and sea planes and bright, bright nights.
Before Alaska, though, pizza. I harbor the sneaking suspicion that pizza makes everything better. Flailing democracy? Pizza. Breakup? Pizza! Hard day at work? Definitely pizza. This green goddess pesto number is layered with Life-Changing Pesto (the basil is blanched before blending), sweet fresh peas, ribbons of lemony zucchini, and tangy feta.
One note about pizza-making: While I love kneading my own pizza dough (and if you’ve got a couple hours, I recommend using this recipe from Mark Bittman), it’s also easy to pick up pre-made dough from Whole Foods, Trader Joe’s, or your local bakery or pasta shop.
This recipe was originally created for Intuitive Eating with Kale & Caramel on Sonima.com.
GREEN GODDESS PESTO PIZZA WITH FRESH PEAS & FETA.
Ingredients
- cornmeal, for the baking sheet
- 16 ounces pizza dough
Pesto
- 2 bunches basil, leaves removed (6-8 cups, loosely packed)
- 1/4 cup olive oil
- 1/2 cup grated parmesan
- 1 clove garlic roughly chopped
- 1 1/2 tablespoons pine nuts
Pizza Toppings
- 1 small-medium zucchini
- 1 tablespoon fresh lemon juice
- 1 teaspoon olive oil, plus more for drizzling
- 1/4 teaspoon sea salt
- 1/4 teaspoon red chile flakes
- 1/3 cup shelled English peas
- 1/4 cup crumbled feta cheese
- 2 teaspoons fresh lemon zest
- fresh basil leaves, for garnish
- grated parmesan, for garnish
Instructions
- Preheat oven to 500ºF. And line a large baking sheet with parchment paper. Sprinkle with cornmeal.
- Set up a colander in your sink. In a medium saucepan, bring at least 3 inches of water to a boil. Blanch the basil in the boiling water for about 15 seconds. Drain water and blanched basil in colander, and immediately rinse with cold water until basil is cool. Squeeze out water. You’ll have about 1/2 cup basil.
- Place the basil in a food processor or blender with 1/4 cup olive oil, 1/2 cup grated parmesan cheese, garlic, and pine nuts. Blend until the pesto is broken down and textured as you wish, adding a tablespoon of water if needed. Remove from the processor or blender and place in a small bowl. Stir in 1/4 cup olive oil and set aside.
- Wash and dry the zucchini, cut off the ends, and shave it lengthwise with a vegetable peeler or mandoline. Place the zucchini ribbons in a small bowl, and toss with lemon juice, olive oil, sea salt, and chile flakes.
- Roll or hand-spread the pizza dough ball into the shape you like. The crust should be very thin, about 1/4 inch.
- Leaving a 1/2-inch perimeter of dough at the edge, spread the pesto in a thin even layer (you'll have some pesto leftover—save for pasta or more pizza!).
- Top with zucchini ribbons, shelled peas, and crumbled feta. Sprinkle with lemon zest, and add a final drizzle of olive oil.
- Bake for 12-15 minutes, depending on desired level of crust crispness.
- Just before serving, top with fresh basil and an extra sprinkle of parmesan cheese. Serve immediately.
