I enjoy the breeze on the deck while waiting for the time to pass. I will admit that I am fretting a bit. What would I give for a pinch of modern instant yeast! Still, it is what it is, so I will make do. The lack of an oven is thankfully not a big concern, as what I am making is pizza in a pan! While the result is not as crunchy as a traditional oven pizza, it is still good enough for this experiment.
Finally, enough time has passed and the dough should be ready so I grab Al and go back to the tiny galley. The cook snorts in displeasure at seeing us again, but I ignore him and head directly for the workbench. As I remove the cloth, I see that the dough has more than doubled in size, a sight that makes me smile. Having already checked earlier, I know that this kitchen has four pans with lids that are perfectly sized for my pizzas, as each is about 30cm in diameter. I decide to use all four, as while at dinner it will be only us and the captain, I can use the fourth pizza for taste-testing with Al and the cook. This way, if it is not good, we can avoid bringing it to the table and pissing off the captain. I grab all four pans and, with a brush, cover the bottoms and sides with a thin layer of oil before placing one on the fire. I cut the dough into four and after shaping each part into balls, I flatten them with my fingers until they became disks of dough about 1cm in height and slightly larger than the pan. I then remove the hot pan from the fire and lay the dough nicely in it, the extra dough creating a heightened border around the pizza. Happy with the result, I put the pan back on the hearth and cover it with its lid. After two minutes I uncover the pan and raise the side of the pizza with a spatula to check the bottom of the dough. Noticing that the dough has started getting a darker pigmentation, meaning it is being cooked, I expertly flip it over and remove it from the fire. Excited and smiling, I grab the pot with the sauce and ladle a bountiful quantity of tomato sauce on the dough, then I use a spoon to evenly spread it until it covers every part of it, including the borders. Done with the sauce, I cover the whole pizza, again including its borders, with a lavish quantity of grated cheese. Finally, I replace the lid and put it back into the hearth.
After about ten minutes I remove the lid to check the pizzas and the aroma hits my nose. Upon checking the bottom of the pizza with my spatula, I decide that it is as done as it can, so I remove the pan from the fire, and with the help of the spatula I transfer my freshly baked pizza to a wooden cutting board, before proceeding to cut it in eight slices with a kitchen knife. Now, time to taste.
Both Al and the cooks are looking at my creation with curiosity and interest, the fatty cook is even drooling, so I say to them,
"Gentlemen, dig in!"
Seeing them unsure of how to eat the pizza, I lead the attack by grabbing a slice and biting on it. The simple taste of tomato, basil, and fake mozzarella cheese blends beautifully in my mouth, making me smile while I happily munch down the rest of the slice. Meanwhile, both Al and the cook are chewing on their slices with expressions of consternation and bliss on their faces. I let them be for now, as we continue to demolish the pizza slice by heavenly slice until nothing is left. Given that the fatty has helped me even though grumbling, and that I will eat another pizza for dinner, I let him have the last slice and make do with one slice less. When the pizza finally disappears, both of them turn to look at me with a look of insatiable curiosity. Al can't resist anymore and asks me,
"Sir... what... what is this food?"
I smile at his expression,
"This, my dear Al, is called pizza."
"Pizza..."
Both Al and the cook mumble and repeat the name a couple of times as if afraid of forgetting the name of the dish.
"So, gentlemen, may I assume that the dish is to your liking?"
Both bob their heads repeatedly up and down, like birds pecking their food, still too shocked to talk, causing me to laugh loudly.
"Come on, lads, since the test is successful, let us prepare dinner."
And so, aided by a now overenthusiastic cook, we prepare three more pizzas for dinner. As the cook prepares to serve the dishes, I make a quick dash to my cabin to refresh myself before heading to the captain's cabin while grinning. I can't wait to see the captain's expression...
As we seat ourselves at the captain's table, I observe our host's expression. I asked the cook not to mention anything about the pizza to the captain to surprise him, and it seems that fatty did as asked, as the captain has a sour look, probably prepared to taste something awful. Yet, when the cook personally serves our pizzas and the aroma hits his nose, we can see his nostrils flare as if he is trying to absorb every last atom of the aroma.
"What is this?",
he asks while looking curiously at the round thing before him.
"This, dear captain, is something I call pizza. It is a food that everyone loves and is eaten by hand. Before we taste it though, let me say that I have shown your cook how to make it for you, though I would appreciate it if you didn't spread the recipe around..."