When
I was a girl I was into horses, like every other American girl. I talked about horses, read books about
horses, watched movies about horses, asked to look at horses, pet horses, ride
horses, keep horses, and so on and so forth.
We lived in the country and knew people who owned horses. I couldn’t figure out why our family didn’t
have at least one measly horse to keep around.
My own dad had a pony growing up.
Why can’t I?
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I don't have a picture of my dad as a kid with his pony. I do, however, have a picture of our family with a small white cow. |
I
was into horses so much that my parents sent me away to horse camp for a whole
summer1, at which I was assigned a horse to take care of the entire
time.
It
turned out to be a genius move, because after that much time2 taking
care of a horse, I no longer wanted anything to do with horses and stopped
talking about them.
Did
you know that taking care of a horse is like a million times more work than
taking care of a dog? And nothing like
taking care of stuffed animals, or say, keeping your room clean, or unloading
the dishwasher or folding a load of towels, or even making your bed every day?
Did
you also know that if a horse steps on the toe of your boot, you cannot pull
your boot out from under the horse’s foot?
You most likely will stand there in paralyzed fear until the horse moves its foot.
Fun
fact #1: Horses don’t typically move their feet when they stop to pee.
Fun
fact #2: The phrase “I peed like a race horse” that people use after a vigorous
bladder-emptying session is a very accurate description.
Fun
fact #3: When a horse pees, it’s very
splashy.
Like
I said, no more horse talk from me.
To
drive home the horror truth about keeping horses as pets, several months later my dad took
a friend and me to a local horse arena to watch horses oh, I don’t know,
run around? Look. I was a small child. Okay, I was about 10 or 11. I don’t know what we were there to see. Anyway, my friend and I watched the horses
run around the arena and It. Was. So. Boring.
And it was cold and smelled like – you got it. Horses.
But
my friend brought a treat for us. It was
pepperoni bread that someone in her family had made: a loaf of bread swirled
with pepperoni and cheese and deliciousness and love. After one bite I found that I loved pepperoni
bread almost as much as I thought I loved horses. More, even.
Thus
began my personal quest to eat dough and pepperoni as frequently as possible
for the rest of my life. I’ve been a #1
fan of pepperoni pizza forever, but at that tender age I realized that
sometimes I just want my pepperoni and dough in a swirl.
I’m
thrilled to share my recipe for Pepperoni Rolls that our family eats pretty
often. Got a tween who whines about
horses? Serve this up and skip the
expensive camp experience. My parents
were always over-achievers anyway.
Forget-Her-Love-Of-Horses
Pepperoni Rolls
Ingredients:
1 tube of pizza dough. I KNOW.
Many of my recipes contain this ingredient. It’s because a) it’s inexpensive, b) it’s
delicious, c) it stores easily, d) it’s easy to have on hand, and e) IT’S
DOUGH.
Olive oil. Not the cartoon character, silly. Don’t have olive oil? You won’t really miss it. Shhhh.
Don’t tell Popeye.
Green sprinkles. You know, oregano, parsley, basil, or the
mysterious Italian seasoning. Just a
little, now. You’re not really Italian.
Shredded mozzarella
cheese. In the bag.
Don’t you even think of using the fancy kind.
That kind is best saved for slow afternoons when you’re watching Orange
is the New Black on a tear and you need something to munch on and you grab the
container of mozz balls instead of the chip dip. Mozz balls in the container have saved me
from a lifetime of eating too much chip dip more times than I can count.
Parmesan cheese. Shake cheese is where it’s at.
Sliced pepperoni. You know, in the zip-top bag? When I was a kid I loved when my mom would
buy sliced pepperoni in the yellow shrink-wrapped package. It was perfectly lined up in little rows just
waiting to be peeled off and slid down your gullet. My brothers and I would mow down a package of
those as soon as my mom came home from the store.
Warmed marinara sauce
(optional). To dip.
Use only if you have it – don’t make a special trip! That’s what “optional” means. Like wearing a dress to church, or pants on the weekend.
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Only some of the ingredients you'll need. Also note that I used fancy parm. Fancy parm is sometimes okay. But don't go thinking that it's the norm, Betty. Know your place. |
That’s
it! SO EASY. You prob have all those ingredients
already. Especially the pizza
dough. Because DOUGH.
So
here’s whatcha do:
Instructions:
A. Preheat the oven to
400 degrees. Whoa, that’s hot. Just like Grandma.
1. POP! the dough out of its cardboard prison. Cover your eyes so you don’t lose one –
everybody knows that they put fireworks in those tubes to make them pop like
that. Cut the Box-Tops off of the
packaging to give to your kids’ school. Unless
you use the store brand, which doesn’t offer them. What, are you against education or something?
2. Stretch out the dough to make a perfect rectangle, about 20 inches
long and 8 inches wide. These measures
are approximate. I’m just giving you an
idea so you do it right, instead of wrong, like everything else you do. Push together the holes you made when you
ripped the dough out of its packaging.
You’re so careless!
3. Spread a little bit
of olive oil over the surface of the dough.
I said you wouldn’t miss it if you don’t have olive oil, and you might
not, but it really does give it a good flavor.
Reminder: you are using tube dough. You can use all the flavor you can get here.
4. Sprinkle the dough with seasonings.
Just a little, though. You want
to let the flavor of the smoked and heavily processed meat shine through on
this dish.
5. Sprinkle the dough
with shredded cheese. You don’t want to be too
heavy handed with the cheese here. You
want some cheese, not all cheese. Have
you ever had pizza that was too cheesy?
I know, it sounds impossible. But
it's no good, and it can and will happen if you don’t tone it down a bit. I’d say a good rule of thumb is to use maybe
a cup or a cup and a half. You want to
see through the cheese to the dough here.
You just want to see it. Don’t be
a fool.
6. Place the pepperoni
slices evenly on the cheese. Not
shoulder to shoulder; give them space to breathe a little. It’s not a pepperoni rave; think of it as a classy
pepperoni cocktail party.
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Don't forget to test your ingredients for poison. |
7. Sprinkle with
parmesan. Just a little! Jeez, Martha.
Ease up already.
8. Roll the dough into a
log shape,
starting with one of the long edges. Be
careful. It’s not as easy as it
seems. The pepperoni will slide around
and you will reconsider your life on this planet. Stay with it.
You are almost there.
9. Slice the dough log
into sixteen equal parts, each about an inch wide. I just slice each section in half until I
can’t slice no mo’. I also like to say
Log.
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Look how pretty. |
10. Place the slices cut
side up on your favorite baking surface, either a greased cookie sheet or ungreased stoneware. Make sure you leave an inch or two between
the rolls so they have room to mingle.
Remember: cocktail party. And for
the love of Mike, use a baking surface with sides, unless you like grease to
drip all over your oven and smoke you out of your own house. Look.
You are cooking pepperoni, the greasiest food since lard. Mike will thank you later.
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Almost a rave. Do as I say, not as I do. |
11. Bake in the oven for
twenty minutes. Check them towards the end, because no one
likes a burnt bottom.
12. Remove from the pan
with a spatula and place on a plate lined with paper towels to keep up the façade that
you insist on serving healthful meals to your family.
Serve the pepperoni rolls to your hog family
who will eat them all in five minutes flat.
Remember the bowl of marinara for dipping – you left it in the micro,
and they will complain about what a horrible person you are if you forget. Trust.
Something fun I like to do with my family is insist that they each eat a
large portion of salad before they touch the pepperoni rolls. Or make them pay for their meals like you’re
at a restaurant. It’s a good way to make
a little extra cash, really.
Cash
that you definitely WON’T be saving to buy a horse. Those things are highly overrated. If you find yourself nostalgic for horses
again, just watch The Black Stallion or something.
1It was three days. Not even full days, either. More like one full day and two half days.
2Three days, people. THREE.
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