The Great One Moves On


I’m sad.


The Great One has died. After all of these years together, making many people smile, working in sync with me to prepare my attempts at greatness, one false step has led to His demise. My secrets will go quietly with Him. I’m not sure if I can go on.

The Great One was my bread maker. But it didn’t make bread. Ever.


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Our relationship started off as anyone would expect. A wedding gift from someone I don’t remember (sorry bout that) at a time that I wasn’t as much into cooking as I am now. I made a couple of those in box, bread overnight kind of loaves, which always tasted bland but made the house smell great. And then He sat on the shelf, likely destined to go the way of the garage sale with the pasta maker and crappy Calphalon pans that had that bottom that didn’t allow any other utensils but their crap stick plastic ones.

But then the day came. Pizza night. I was looking for something other than Boboli or the usual semi-cardboard type of bread like material that holds the toppings while I stuff whatever combination into my face. I wanted to go from scratch. I wanted thin. I wanted flavor.

So I grabbed the dusty old bread maker off of the shelf. The actual instruction booklet was still around, with an actual pizza dough recipe within. Sounded simple enough. With any good recipe, however, some tweaking needed to be done. Here is what I created, over many years, failures, successes, ingredient changes, and occasional run ins with puffy deep dish style mistakes.


SUP Pizza Dough

1 1/2 Cups of warm water

4tbs. of EVOO

4 Cups of Kick ass Flour – Buy the good stuff.

1tsp. Sugar

1tsp Salt

4tsp Active Dry Yeast

Granulated Garlic to taste. (Usually around 1-2 tsp)

Dried Oregano to taste. (Same as above)

Set the bread machine to ‘dough, and walk away. That’s it. About 2 hours later, you have what appears to be a mushroom topped bread pan on your hands, which rolls out to make a truly great thin crust pizza dough. Trust me.


That is, if you make sure your bread maker is on a flat, level surface. This is where The Great One met it’s great end. While away, apparently the dough shifted a bit to the side of the bread pan, and while on spin cycle (knead for the cooking anal), the wobble became just too great.


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My son found him first. On his side, grunting his last efforts to save his yummy internal treasure. He called out to me, but I was nowhere to be seen. I was in the shower, you see (TMI?). Upon hearing of the horrid event that had transpired in my kitchen, I quickly dressed, and ran down to survey the damage. The Great One was dead. Cracked lid and external structure, bent internal frame. I let out a slight whimper. Our time together was great, and I knew this one was going to hurt.

The Great One, however, was a bread machine for others. In a true effort of self sacrifice, he gave his life for one last pizza night. I bent down, set him upright, and sure enough, the golden prize awaited. A last batch of what I would consider as close to Italian perfection that a pasty Irish boy could approach.


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I rolled out each section with the care of a surgeon working on a relative. Tonight was Thai Chicken night, with chicken (duh), celery, carrots (trust me), green onions, mozzarella/parmesan, and sweet chili garlic sauce atop Thai peanut sauce. If you doubt me, you won’t understand. This one kicks ass. Of course, as I have a budding teenager in the house, standard pepperoni was necessary.


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THAI HEAVEN (Better than it looks)

As you can see from the photos, the last batch was truly a special one. Thin. Tasty. Slight crunch with an airy soft inside. Well done, Great One.


Now off to the dumpster with you. No tears, you would have wanted it that way. I promise, the next one will be always placed on a level surface. I mean it this time.


Ok, I’ll shut up.

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