Pizza: Grandpa Mike’s ‘Affogatz’

This is an odd one. My grandfather Mike was a NY Italian and I’m pretty sure this is his NY accent butchering ‘a foccacia’ – but that’s what he called it and it was a central part of every holiday held in their house. He would grow his own tomatoes and then make a bunch of these pizzas then freeze them for the holidays. They held up in the freezer surprisingly well and it was one of the things I most looked forward to when visiting them for the holidays. I would also steal big slices of it and smuggle it out wrapped tinfoil so I could eat it like a cave troll later in the privacy of my room and not have to share it

Now – we all loved this pizza and when I was in my early teens he showed me how to make it (since I was the only one that showed any interest in cooking he felt I was worthy). I remember him patiently walking me through the steps and me paying close attention but NOT TAKING NOTES. So when he passed a few years later my grandmother asked me if I could make some ‘affogatz’ for her and I panicked because I barely remembered what he taught me at all.

That began the trip down the rabbit hole of trying to recreate a taste from memory. I knew he often bought pizza dough from the store so I started there but it didn’t really match the texture of the pizza so I turned to making a quick 2 hour rise dough that fit the flavor profile (it wasn’t a long proofed dough – it has a more bready consistency). I knew plum tomatoes were the answer because other tomatoes were too wet. I remember him walking me through crushing the tomatoes after they are cut and that helps ensure it cooked a bit more evenly but the texture was off.

The spice profile was pretty easy to nail – salt, lots of pepper, and a proprietary blend of seasonings were easy to isolate as I knew he had a very limited spice cabinet so it wasn’t hard to deduce what he used.

So I had the pizza, I had the flavors but the texture just wasn’t what I remembered. It took me a few years but I was making some other dish when it clicked in my mind that he cooked the tomatoes and drained them before he put them on the pizza.

The last piece of the puzzle was solved and now I can reliably recreate this unique dish for my family and hopefully inspire one of my future grand-kids to take up the torch and keep the tradition alive (the recipe is in the family cookbook now so it’s safe and preserved for the future)