About a week ago, I was in the middle of some mundane task that I’m failing to remember at the moment, when I suddenly had a vision: portobello pizza. I don’t mean pizza topped with portobellos; that, while very tasty, is hardly worthy of being called a stroke of inspiration. No, I mean pizzas made out of portobellos. “Think about it,” I told Bobby (my fiancé.) “They’re round, would hold toppings well, go with pizza-like flavors, and are way more flavorful than most pizza crusts, both gluten-free and gluten-laden.” Bobby was skeptical. “Would it really feel like pizza if there was no bread component?” I was adamant that it would.
A week later, I tested my theory. And I’m happy to say I was absolutely right. (As I am about most things we disagree on — just kidding, just kidding.) In any case, when I presented him with the finished product, Bobby was sold. “This should be a thing,” he said. “They should do this in restaurants.”
Indeed, they should. And possibly it’s already a thing – I haven’t Googled it yet. But I’m pretty sure someone must have come up with the same idea at some point because it’s such a perfect pizza option: it’s grain-free, super easy, doesn’t require you to make any type of crust, and also happens to hit that comfort-food note that you expect from a good pizza. And — for my dairy-free people — portobellos are insanely juicy and flavorful, so even if you make your pizzas without cheese, you’ll still get the satisfaction of that gooey, drippy, messy pizza heaven that everyone deserves to experience once in a while.
On that note, authenticity was definitely not my goal when I created these, but they are authentic in one major way: it’s easiest to eat these with a knife and fork. And that’s how they eat their pizza in Italy, baby! If you are lucky enough to have leftovers and they cool down to room temperature, then you can pick ’em up. It may be a tad messy, but in the gooey, drippy, pizza-heaven way I mentioned earlier.