La Strada Dolce Pizza is a company that was founded and owned by a friend of ours, Jason Studstill and his buisness partner Jim. Jason and Jim hand built a clay, fire burning oven. And put it on the back of a customized trailor.
Pretty impressive, no?
These guys take their pizza trailer around to local farmers markets and private events to cook and serve fresh, neapolitian pizza (pizza cooked in 900 degree wood burning oven). Last summer was their first summer in buisness and they worked 2 markets. This year, their 2nd year, they have expanded to four markets.
Mukilteo on Wednesdays
Snohomish on Thursdays
Bothell on Fridays
Edmonds on Saturdays
We currently offer 4 pizzas at the market:
- What is commonly known as the original pizza, the Margherita; mozzerela cheese, sliced tomatoes, and garnished with fresh chopped basil.
- The classic Pepperoni Pizza; speaks for itself.
- Our Fresco Giardino, or fresh garden pizza; a pesto base topped with mozzerlla cheese, onions, tomatoes, kalamata olives, and mushrooms.
- Our signature, Pear Gorgonzola! A simple olive oil base and topped with fresh sliced pears, gorgonzola cheese, and sweet caramelized onions.
My good friend John Huddleston, who I work with at CHILD, lives with Jason and worked for markets for him last summer. So that's where I come in...since La Strada Dolce has expanded this summer, Jason asked if I would be interested in coming out and cooking pizzas with himself and John on Saturday mornings.
I of course said yes.
So far the only job on the truck I have had is manning the oven! Jason stretches the dough and tops the pizzas, hands them over to me, I toss them into the 900 degree oven. This is where the toughest part of my job happens. We keep the oven so hot, the pizzas cook in about a minute and a half. Once they are in, they are cooking. As you can imagine, the side that is mere inches from the fire cooks VERY quickly leaving the rest of the pizza uncooked.
I use a 6 ft metal "peel" to reach into the oven unstick the pizza from the deck and rotate the pizza 180 degrees. Without tearing the dough, shoving the pizza into the fire, or burning one third of the pizza to ash. It can be quite stressful when you know there is a line of people or a family waiting the last minute for their pizza and you are having to wrestle it around inside the oven without ruining it.
Luckily, I have yet to lose an entire pizza =D. So far, I have not lost more than one-fourth of a pizza. Whew...
So far I have worked 4 weekends and I love it! I love the cooking. But even more than that, I love the market. I have always loved just being at a farmers market, but there is, of course, something different about working at a farmers market. The experience is so different from that of shopping at a grocery store. When you are shopping at the market, you are interacting with the world around you, with people. Not just shelves, signs, and aisles...or, of course, the occasional, "excuse me ma'am," as you try to scoot your cart through a tight fit. You are engaging in something that is beyond just buying products. The market is more than just a means to your end.
But working...when you are actually creating, with your hands, a product, nourishment that someone is going to either take home, or often times enjoy right in front you...is an act of worship for me. While I thouroughly enjoy worshipping this way and seeing someone love what I have just created, it still is not my favorite market experience.
As I stand at the oven working away; John and I are chatting, we are calling orders out to each other, and there are people passing by. People who are very intrigued with our mobile restaurant. People who are lusting over the smells of our pizzas. People who are peering at our menu. And people are gazing at the tents around us or just looking past us. Regardless, they are people engaged with their own fantasies, thoughts, or plans; processing the sensory input of the sounds, smells, and sights.
And then something special happens.
I might holler, "Hey good morning! How are ya?!" or respond to the chatter of their own child or tell a little boy, "Hey, nice shoes buddy!" And usually, half startled, they look up and take a split second to understand what just happened. Then they smile. And I mean a real genuine smile. And respond.
They are seen. And in some small way known. Their presence as a person is acknowledged and we are now sharing an experience together. I believe if we are all honest with ourselves, there are few things we each long for more than to be known by another person. Before we can be known, we must first be seen. Not even to be validated, but to simply have our presence acknowledged.
To be told that you are worth paying attention to. That out of the mass of people and things around me, I noticed you. We spend the vast majority of our lives passing by each other without taking the time to let each other know that, hey, I see you. We struggle with feeling lonely, self conscious, always wondering how other people are experiencing us...or worst...if people even know we exist. Many of us live in utter fear of never being known.
No, acknowledging someones presence as the walk through the market does not fulfill the desire we have to be intimately known by a spouse, parent, or close friend. I don't believe that any created being is capable of completely fulfilling that deep longing for us, it requires something beyond what this world has to offer us. But I do think that, "Hello!" is a small glimpse of the love our Creator has for us when He whispers, "Hey, I see you" and smiles at us. And I don't think it has ever made someone's day any worse.
Thank Kelsey for the pictures :-)
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| John selling pizzas and taking orders with his wonderful smile |
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