As a child of the 90s, I remember a time when pizza wasn’t taken seriously. When it was perfectly normal and not at all neglectful to be served a frozen pizza for dinner. A time before my brain knew words like “00 flour” or “Neopolitan style”. An era of unlimited toppings and crusts stuffed with any unholy thing a fast-food chain could dream up. Pizza was an uncomplicated crowd-pleaser, the taste of childhood, and a meal available in a head-spinning number of formats – personal, pan, and pocket just to name a few. Pizza wasn’t sacred, pizza was fun. And that is exactly the mood I was trying to capture with this Veggie Deluxe Baguette Pizza.
The calendar may insist it’s still summer, but the weather here suggests otherwise. The warm weather has left Toronto after a season of record-breaking heat and its exit was painfully abrupt. I’m usually not one to complain about cooler temperatures but two months of heatwaves have seriously thinned my blood. Temps in the mid-to-low twenties (Celsius) are inspiring shivers, and frankly, it’s embarrassing. I’m a proud East Coaster, I learned to swim in the frigid Atlantic and relish picnics in the snow. And now look at me, reaching for my cable-knit the second the sun disappears. I know I will eventually pull it together. Come November, I’ll be back to my hearty self. But until then I have these Chickpea Curried Eggs to keep me warm.
My house has been converted into a pub. It’s also assumed the role of a taco stand, transformed itself into a noodle bar, and delivered its best impression of a high-end bistro. And just this past week it did its very best to convince me it was a pizzeria and although I’m not particularly gullible, I almost believed it. That probably had less to do with the candlelight and more to do with this Sausage Rapini Skillet Pizza. This pizza was so decadent that I legitimately felt like I’d had a night out after I ate it. The only difference was I didn’t require an Uber in order to crash land on my bed. Yet another weird quarantine perk.
What’s the difference between taquitos and flautas? I had no idea how vague the answer would be when I posed this question to Google. I assumed the difference had to do with the fillings, wrappings or circumference of the snacks but it turned out to be none of the above. There was some weak consensus that the difference lay in the type of tortillas used. The snack assumes the taquito moniker when it’s wrapped in a corn tortilla and the term flauta is reserved for those enshrined in a flour tortilla. But this does not appear to be a hard and fast rule. So don’t be surprised if you order taquitos and receive something swaddled in a flour tortilla. Apparently, the two terms are used pretty much interchangeably.