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Three Mushroom Smoked Cheese Pizza

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Wow. I really hate to brag, but last night I made one of my finest pizzas ever. The dough was, as always, my sourdough mix with a bit of whole wheat and a little bit of Italian 00 flour tossed in. There is a recipe for it in a previous entry: www.joewatts.com/blog/2007/12/recipes.html.

But the best part of this pizza was what was on top:
French horn mushrooms (about 6) sliced
Golden oyster mushrooms (about 8) sliced
Portabella mushroom (about 1/4 of one) diced large
3 shallots, diced
2 garlic cloves, minced
italian seasoning, salt and black pepper to taste

Saute the shallots and garlic in 1 tablespoon of butter and a little olive oil for 2 minutes, then add the mushrooms. Saute until golden and soft.

Brush crust with a little olive oil and prebake the crust for about 6 minutes at 425 degrees. Remove from oven. Turn oven to 475.

Sprinkle shredded Mozzarella cheese  to cover crust. Top with mushrooms evenly. Sprinkle with about 4 ounces of smoked mozzarella cheese and 2 ounces crumbled goat cheese.

Bake for about 8-10 minutes.

Blogging–Burf Style

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My friend Ben Burford recently went to Brazil for an extended vacation. He’s started a blog: www.davisdenny.com/bensblog/.

An excerpt: “You know that in order to go to Hell,
you have to go through Atlanta. That was true for us. Through Atlanta,
to Miami for the first mini-leg of the journey.“

A Memorial To Mama

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Above is a photo of the house Mama lived in all her life and the house that my five sisters and I grew up in. (this photo was taken last week–the same time as the photo of daffodils below)This is the last photo I have of Mama, taken Christmas 2006 after everyone was gone home but Ann and me. We stayed and visited and watched Mama do her crossword–no one stopped her from completing her crossword every day. She firmly believed in exercise–both body and mind-and would do those crosswords every day as religiously as she would do her morning exercises in bed before getting up. I wish I had her tenacity.
Here’s a link to the first photo of Mama that I know of: Mama as a child.
Here are some additional photos I have of Mama, taken between 2001 and 2006. www.joewatts.com/mama/

Flowers from Octagon, Alabama

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From a recent trip to Octagon. I’ve planted hundreds of the daffodils, but none of the snowdrops in Birmingham, yet. I think I’ll try to change that once it is time to dig bulbs again.

Some Poetry from e.e. cummings

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I’ve never been much of a reader of poetry, other than infrequently, but for some reason while going to the grocery store this morning (by far the best time to go appears to be 7:30 a.m. on Sunday morning–but I should not have skipped the coffee to get there early) I heard e. e. cummings on NPR and had to come home and find more.

may my
heart always be open to little
birds who
are the secrets of living
whatever
they sing is better than to know
and if men
should not hear them men are old

may my mind
stroll about hungry
and
fearless and thirsty and supple
and even if
it’s sunday may i be wrong
for
whenever men are right they are not young

and may
myself do nothing usefully
and love
yourself so more than truly
there’s
never been quite such a fool who could fail
pulling all
the sky over him with one smile
e.e. cummings

To be nobody but yourself in a world which is doing its best night
and day to make you like everybody else means to fight the hardest
battle any human being can fight and never stop fighting.
e.e. cummings

Memories of Old Times in Octagon

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My mother, Inez Hinson Watts, was born on this day in 1924 (February 23, 1924). She would have been 84 years old today. And she would have been furious with me if she knew I put this video out, but I know she understands now and is glad I have it.

Both of these videos were filmed November 8, 2003. One of the few times we have used our video camera, Ann and I had the idea to just sit and talk with Mama and actively get her to tell us stories. I have several short videos including these two. In the first, Mama tells the story of Alan Harris and the washtub with a bullet hole.

In the second one, Building Fires, Mama tells the story of being a little girl and the cold winter. Her father, my grandfather, offered her $100 to build fires every morning. The video tells the rest of the story: