Like the end of a season, radicchio can be finicky. It’s beautiful but it’s bitter, it’s tender but it oxidizes and browns easily, it’s crunchy but it wilts quickly under heat. Which, of course, I took as an invitation to braise it in balsamic vinegar and honey, roast it with nectarines and burrata, top it with thyme and prosciutto, and put the whole damn thing on a pizza.
The thyme was what Janson dubbed, “an excellent game-thyme decision,” executed as I shoved random bouquets of herbs under his nose whilst he stirred a cast-iron skilletful of radicchio. “That!” He exclaimed, as I rubbed thyme between my thumb and forefinger so its fragrance would permeate his palate, already filled with the scent of radicchio and balsamic, and the taste of freshly cut nectarine. And that it was—the thyme perfectly elevated the nectarine, mellowed the bite of radicchio, and gave some edge to the creamy burrata.
Topped with prosciutto and (if you’re Janson Woodlee) truffle oil, this pizza takes umami not just to the next level, but beyond levels all the way to the next dimension. Maybe the next galaxy? Planet? You get the idea. Really. Effing. Good.
This is a perfect late summer pizza. It’s a perfect pizza for a deep red wine and a warm night. It’s a perfect pizza for laughing and dreaming and crying if you want to, because the radicchio is both bitter and sweet and the thyme knows that the times they are a-changing. (Sorry, I couldn’t help it. The night was also full of many a “That’s radicchio!” (instead of “ridiculous”…ok…I know…I’ll stop now).
But for serious. Gather your friends. Share the love. Cut nectarines. Crush thyme between your fingertips. Tear tender radicchio leaves. Life is short. Eat good pizza.
Ingredients
- 1 recipe Roberta’s pizza dough
- 1 leaves medium head radicchio 5 sliced thinly and then rest cut into 1-1.5” strips
- 3 tsp . olive oil
- 2 tsp . balsamic vinegar + more to drizzle
- 2 tsp . honey
- ¼ tsp . Maldon smoked salt more to taste
- 1 large shallot thinly sliced
- 2 medium yellow nectarines or peaches sliced ¼-1/8” thick
- 8 oz . fresh burrata
- leaves handful fresh thyme off their stems
- 6 oz . thinly sliced prosciutto to taste
- black truffle oil optional (or not optional, depending who’s eating)
- cornmeal for the baking sheets
Instructions
- Make dough at least 4 hours in advance to allow for rising time. When you’re ready to make the pizza, stretch out the dough and sprinkle your pizza stones or baking sheets (I use cookie sheetwith cornmeal. The dough recipe above makes two small-medium-ish pizzas, which is what this recipe allots for.
- Preheat oven to 475º. Set aside the thinly sliced radicchio to sprinkle atop your finished pizza pies, and place the thickly cut radicchio in a pan with 2 tsp. of olive oil, 2 tsp. balsamic, 2 tsp. honey, and smoked salt. Cook on medium heat for 5-8 minutes, stirring occasionally until things start getting caramel-y and deep brown and tender. In a separate pan, sauté the sliced shallot in 1 tsp. olive oil until they’re slightly browned.
- Spread half the braised radicchio atop one of the stretched out pizza doughs, and sprinkle with half the sautéed shallot. Arrange half the sliced nectarines on top, and dollop with half the burrata. Sprinkle with fresh thyme leaves, drizzle with balsamic vinegar (or glaze, if you happen to have it), and add some extra sea salt. Do the same on the second pizza.
- Place baking sheets in the oven and bake for 15-20 minutes, or until pies reach your desired level of crispy-edged brownness and cheesy bubbliness. Once you remove them from the oven, immediately dress them with prosciutto, and a few flecks of the thinly sliced radicchio for pretty-making. Drizzle with truffle oil if you choose. (I shall not ever stop a human being from drizzling something they love with truffle oil. It’s my second commandment, after thou shalt not take kale’s name in vain.)
- Adorn your pizza pies with extra balsamic, thyme, and sea salt as you feel moved!
