Neven Mrgan

Speed-dating The Opening Passage of Melville’s Moby Dick

2026-03-20T00:00:00Z

“Call me Ishmael.”

Hiiii Ishmael, I’m Sasha, nice to meet you haha. Ok so, I’m not going to ask about where you work or where you’re from, that’s so cheesy, so tell me about an interesting trip or adventure you’ve done?

“Some years ago—never mind how long precisely—having little or no money in my purse, and nothing particular to interest me on shore, I thought I would sail about a little and see the watery part of the world.”

Aha, wow yeah that sounds so cool. I would loooove to travel more. Do you often make like, wild, impulsive decisions like that?

“It is a way I have of driving off the spleen and regulating the circulation.”

Well that’s one way of putting it, haha. So you’ve sailed before? Is it like, your “thing”?

“Whenever I find myself growing grim about the mouth; whenever it is a damp, drizzly November in my soul; whenever I find myself involuntarily pausing before coffin warehouses, and bringing up the rear of every funeral I meet; and especially whenever my hypos get such an upper hand of me, that it requires a strong moral principle to prevent me from deliberately stepping into the street, and methodically knocking people’s hats off—then, I account it high time to get to sea as soon as I can.”

Wow yeah, Ishmael. That sounds heavy. When I’m feeling down like that, I’ll do, like, a half-day hike? I just find that being out in nature resets me, you know what I mean?

“This is my substitute for pistol and ball.”

Oh.

“With a philosophical flourish Cato throws himself upon his sword; I quietly take to the ship.”

Yeah. No, totally. You know, I really admire people who can make bold decisions. I’m still deciding on my cat’s name, and I adopted him six months ago haha.

“There is nothing surprising in this. If they but knew it, almost all men in their degree, some time or other, cherish very nearly the same feelings towards the ocean with me.”

Maybe, though I’m not so sure that a lot of these glued-to-their-phones city types would agree, hehe. Soooo did you grow up around here, or?

“There now is your insular city of the Manhattoes, belted round by wharves as Indian isles by coral reefs—commerce surrounds it with her surf. Right and left, the streets take you waterward. Its extreme downtown is the battery, where that noble mole is washed by waves, and cooled by breezes, which a few hours previous were out of sight of land. Look at the crowds of water-gazers there.”

Right, totally. It’s crazy how a place this big and this packed with people can feel so lonely, you know what I mean? Sometimes it’s like I’m both lost in a vast, featureless desert, and also trapped in a tiny box, looking for something that always eludes me. But. Aaaaanyway. I guess that’s why we’re both here today, right?

“Circumambulate the city of a dreamy Sabbath afternoon.”

Mr. Ishmael, are you inviting me out on a date? haha

“Go from Corlears Hook to Coenties Slip, and from thence, by Whitehall, northward.”

Well that sounds nice. See, I wish I could be that bold, planning out a whole day when we’ve just met. It’s hard enough just introducing yourself in these rapid-fire meetings!

“What do you see?—Posted like silent sentinels all around the town, stand thousands upon thousands of mortal men fixed in ocean reveries. Some leaning against the spiles; some seated upon the pier-heads; some looking over the bulwarks of ships from China; some high aloft in the rigging, as if striving to get a still better seaward peep. But these are all landsmen; of week days pent up in lath and plaster—tied to counters, nailed to benches, clinched to desks. How then is this? Are the green fields gone? What do they hear?”

Sooo I’m a little lost here, and I hope this doesn’t sound too judgey, but I think we’re talking about you more than me. Or am I way off?

“But look! here come more crowds, pacing straight for the water, and seemingly bound for a dive. Strange! Nothing will content them but the extremest limit of the land; loitering under the shady lee of yonder warehouses will not suffice.”

Yeah, no, I think we agree on the whole outdoors thing. Ahhh we’re almost out of time. Was there anything you were wondering about me?

“No.”

Oh. Well ok, this was nice, and I think I’ll mingle around for a bit now. Nice to talk to you, Ishmael, and I hope you meet someone out there! As they say, plenty of fish in the sea hahaha.

How it feels to get an AI email from a friend

2024-05-29T00:00:00Z

Recently I received an AI-written email from a friend. It wasn't sent to test AI, or to show it off, as in "ha ha check this out"; my friend had a question to ask me, and the email asked it over the course of a few paragraphs. It then disclosed that, oh by the way, I used AI to write this. My reaction to this surprised me: I was repelled, as if digital anthrax had poured out of the app. I'm trying to figure out why.

I'm fortunate in that I don't need to think about AI very much. While I work for a tech company, it's one that, against stereotype, doesn't chase trends and fads, so it just hasn't come up in my everyday life. On a personal level, I'd describe myself as fundamentally uninterested in the kind of AI technology that's in the news today. I'm a designer and I like designing things; I don't think I need or want or would at all appreciate a computer doing the creative stuff for me. If Adobe adds better selection tools that happen to use AI, right on; but as for it putting ideas in my head, that's off-limits. I've got plenty of my own ideas, and if I ever need new ones, I can draw on the wonderful world around us, with its long and rich history. That sounds like a more fruitful approach to me, and also more fun than typing into a command prompt.

Where exactly would I draw the line between helpful features ("make this red shirt green instead") and offensive takeovers ("generate an album cover in the style of barney bubbles, award-winning?") As I said, until this email I was more bored than enraged by AI, so I didn't have an immediate answer. I use computer crap all the time—it's pretty cool! So what was different here? I thought I'd come up with some comparisons that capture different aspects of my friend's AI email, in order to see how I feel about them.

Getting an AI-generated email from a friend didn't feel like they had used autocorrect to type better.
It also didn't feel like they had used phrase-level completions, e.g. one-tapping to turn "in my hu…" into "in my humble opinion."
It didn't even feel like Grammarly or a similar service was employed to fix errors of syntax and fumbles of style. None of these tools would change what was being said, or even meaningfully influence how it was done.
That cheesy sig saying "Sent from my iPhone" that people rolled their eyes at in the 2010s? That seems goofy now—but this didn't feel anything like that either. That was a Daria sticker placed in the corner of the page; it wasn't the totality of the letter.

What this did feel like was, it felt as if my friend had buzzed their secretary over the intercom and asked them to send me a letter, signed "R. Jeeves on behalf of ——————."
The email felt like getting a form letter, one of many thousands sent out by a large agency; except it was sent to me by, you know, a friend.
It felt like getting a birthday card with only the prewritten message inside, and no added well-wishes from the wisher's own pen. An item off the shelf, paid for and handed over, transaction complete.
It felt like the episode of Mrs. Maisel where Midge discovers that her husband's comedy act features stolen Bob Newhart jokes.
It felt like a family fridge decorated with printed stock art of children's drawings.
It felt like opening the front door at my birthday party to welcome in a group of iPads on wheels instead of people I like.
It was like using a phone tree to kiss.

I knew that I didn't want an algorithm to design layouts and draw illustrations "so I don't have to," but prior to this email, I never even pondered whether I wanted AI to call me up on behalf of people in my life. It had simply not occurred to me—and now that it has occurred to me, I definitely do not want small talk and relationships outsourced to server farms. This stuff shouldn't feel hard or taxing; it's what our presence here on Earth is mostly made up of. The effort, the clumsiness, and the time invested are where humanity is stored.

The AI email didn't capture my friend's tone or mannerisms—I imagine the LLM had nothing to go off of but a brief prompt. The AI did, however, try to sound like someone. It was folksy and upbeat, talky and pretend-excited (a computer can't be really excited). It referred to itself using the human word "I," as in "I was also wondering about…" It thought it was people.

Years from now, could an AI trained on all of my friend's emails and texts and personal documents sound convincingly like them? So that I couldn't even tell that my friend hadn't written to me at all? Possibly. And that idea saddens me the most.

Pizza romana / pizza al taglio / thin pan pizza

2022-11-14T00:00:00Z

Sometimes you feel like a pillowy, bready pan pie, something you could slice into flavorful bread sticks. Other times, you want a large, soft pizza where the toppings shine more. This is one of those: an easy, no-knead, no-sweat base for endless pizza variations. Try topping it before baking, but also after—it’s an edible board, and much more.

Neven’s thin pan pizza

Servings: two 10 × 14" pans (9 × 13" will also work)
Time: 10 min mix + 8-12 hour proof + 5 minute shape + 3-6 hour proof + 15 minute cook

INGREDIENTS:

300 g all-purpose flour
200 g high-gluten flour (or more APF)
10 g salt
365 g water
50 g ripe-and-ready sourdough starter (yeast variation below)
20 g olive oil

DIRECTIONS:

The night before you intend to eat the pizza, do the following:

In a very large nonreactive bowl (meaning, stainless steel, glass, or plastic, but not aluminum) add the flours and the salt, and stir together. Pour the water into the middle, then add the starter to it. Using a large spatula, stir and fold the whole mess for a bit; then add the olive oil. Stir and fold some more, until it becomes a basically coherent mass and there’s not a huge pool of dry flour at the bottom of the bowl. This should only take a minute; you’re not trying to knead dough, you’re just making the shaggy ball a little uniform.

Cover well and rest for 30 minutes to an hour. Come back to it and, using the spatula or a flexible scraper, fold the ball on itself from each side, just to bring it together a bit more. Note that it will already look smoother and more dough-like, though it’ll still be rather lumpy and homely.

Cover again and rest on the counter or in another room-temperature place (between 65ºF and 75ºF) overnight, for 8-12 hours. Hot days in humid climates will take less time, and a cold winter’s night might take as long as 16 hours. What you’re looking for at the end of this process is a dough that’s much larger than it started, light and inflated-looking, with possible surface bubbles. (If it has collapsed into the middle, then it’s been overproofed; this is unlikely to happen. If it’s still a dry lump, then it never proofed at all; perhaps your yeast is too old, or your room is super cold? Sorry!)

Now grab two 10 × 14" pans (9 × 13 will also work) and grease the bottoms with a small amount of butter. Even coverage matters more than opulence, so make sure it’s not a thick layer of goop. We’re using butter rather than oil here because it’ll stop the dough from pulling back into the center of the pan.

Flour your workbench (counter or large cutting board) liberally.

Using a flexible scraper, scrape around the edge of the bowl, then pop the dough into the middle of the workbench. Cut it in half; you can eyeball this, or measure each half to ~470 g. Place one half back in the bowl.

Working gently—without crushing the dough—first flip your dough over to flour both sides of it. Now start stretching it into a rectangle about 6 x 10" in size. No need to get it perfect; just get as close as you can while keeping the dough thickness even all around. I like to reach under the sides and pull out with my fingers. You may need to flip the whole rectangle over if any of it threatens to stick to the bench. You’ll want to be able to lift the whole thing easily.

Once you have it close to 2/3 the size of the pan, transfer the dough to the middle of it. Reaching under once more, stretch the sides to the edges of the pan. Dimple any thick areas of dough from above to softly push them to the side.

Repeat with the second half of the dough.

Cover again. Give this second proof 3–6 hours, depending on your room’s climate. When it’s ready, the dough should be slightly puffy.

From this point on, you can perhaps dimple any super-fluffy areas, but don’t stretch again.

During the last 40 minutes or so of this proofing time, preheat your oven to 515ºF. Move one of the racks to the bottom third of the oven.

Top however you’d like. For a classic cheesy-marg type of thing, I would cover with sliced, shaved, or shredded aged mozzarella, then dab with tomato sauce on top. Don’t forget to season with salt, and hit with a bit of olive oil.

If you’re using other toppings, remember that the sides of the pan will get hotter than the middle, so place the larger toppings around the perimeter.

Bake on the bottom-third rack of the oven for 12–15 minutes, rotating halfway. Move the whole pan to a cooling rack for 2 minutes, then slide the pizza out with a large spatula or flipper onto the rack.

Top with any post-bake toppings: basil, shaved parmesan, sauce drizzles. Cool for 5 minutes before moving to a cutting board and slicing.

YOU SAID THERE’D BE A YEAST VERSION

If you’re not a Sourdough Person, this is easily made with commercial yeast as well. Please make sure to use good instant yeast and store it in the fridge/freezer to prolong its shelf life; it can be used cold.

The only change you’d make is replacing the 50 g of sourdough starter with ¼ tsp of yeast. Add it after you’ve stirred the flours and the salt together, before you add the water.

This means that your dough will be 50 g lighter than the above recipe. That’s not an enormous difference, but you could always make it up with another 25 g each of flour and water.

The rest of the recipe should proceed the same way, including times and temperatures.

You can also scale this recipe however you’d like—making a single pan won’t be much different.

Neven’s Focaccia

2021-08-11T00:00:00Z

My love for pizza overlaps my love for focaccia. They’re both tremendously satisfying breads, elevated to godly heights by their toppings. Focaccia is the perfect bread because it’s trivial to make; it keeps well; it can become pizza; and everyone’s a fan of its oily, cloud-like qualities. This is going to be so simple and tasty.

Neven’s Focaccia

Servings: 4
Time: 10 min mix + 8-12 hour proof + 5 minute shape + 3-6 hour proof + 20 minute cook

INGREDIENTS:

350 g all-purpose flour
150 g high-gluten flour (or more APF)
10 g salt
400 g water
75 g ripe-and-ready sourdough starter
20 g olive oil

DIRECTIONS:

The night before you intend to bake the focaccia, do the following:

In a very large nonreactive bowl (meaning, stainless steel, glass, or plastic, but not aluminum) add the flours and the salt; stir. Pour the water into the middle, then add the starter to it. Using a large spatula, stir and fold the whole mess for a bit; then add the olive oil. Stir and fold some more, until it becomes a basically coherent mass and there’s not a huge pool of dry flour at the bottom of the bowl. This should only take a minute; you’re not trying to knead dough, you’re just making the shaggy ball a little uniform.

Cover well and rest for 30 minutes to an hour. Come back to it and, using the spatula or a flexible scraper, fold the ball on itself from each side, just to make it a little more uniform. Observe that it will already look smoother and more dough-like, though it’ll still be rather homely.

Now rest it on the counter or in another room-temperature place overnight, for 8-12 hours. Hot days in humid climates will take less time, and a cold winter’s night might take as long as 16 hours. What you’re looking for at the end of this process is a dough that’s much larger than it started, wet as batter, and bubbly.

Now grab a 9 × 13 (or 10 × 14) pan and coat it well with olive oil; something like 2 tbsp of oil will do. Even coverage matters more than opulence, so use your hands or a pastry brush to get every surface and corner oily.

Using a flexible scraper, and trying to make it happen in as few moves as possible, scrape around the edge of the bowl, then pop the dough into the middle of the pan. It’s ok to scrape any remaining dough from the bowl on top of what’s in the pan; this is still shapeless batter, though we’re trying not to lose all those gasses that have formed inside it.

Pour some more oil on top. With very gentle and wet fingers, push the dough just so it kind of matches the pan shape. You’re not trying to make a perfect rectangle or fill the pan, you’re just giving the dough a nudge in the right direction. It’ll still be half the size of your pan.

Cover well again; if your pan has low walls, consider putting something like a larger, deeper pan over it as a cover, to ensure your lid doesn’t end up sticking to the dough, which will balloon up as it proofs. Give this second proof 3–6 hours, depending on your room’s climate.

During the last 40 minutes or so of this time, preheat your oven to 475ºF.

When the dough is almost filling the pan and it’s back to looking puffy and alive, it’s time to dimple it.

Add more oil on top (I’m not kidding here) and wet your fingers again. Now dimple by pretending to play piano, pushing into the dough gently but firmly in rows spaced an inch or so. You’re trying to create a dotted surface so the dough has a fun, uneven texture. If everything’s going well so far, you should see bubbles rising from the surface over the next minute.

Believe it or not, drizzle with oil again. Sprinkle with coarse salt and other toppings (more on that below).

Slide into the oven on a rack in the bottom-third of the oven. This placement will vary as ovens vary, so watch the evenness of your bake and adjust as needed.

Bake for a total of 20 minutes, rotating the pan half way through. Look for a mind-blowingly beautiful golden color, with serious bubbles, some of which might char. You may have to adjust the time 5 minutes this way or that, depending.

When you remove the pan from the oven, wait a minute, then extract the bread to a cooling rack (the focaccia should be begging you to sexily slide out of its oily pan). At this point, there’s only one more thing to do:

Drizzle with olive oil again—the best stuff you’ve got in the house.

Eat as soon as 10 minutes after the bake, or later in the day if you wish. Focaccia reheats wonderfully on a rack in the oven at 300ºF or so.

LET’S CHAT SOME MORE

Wait, so we’re not kneading this or anything? No stand mixer?

Yeah, totally. Remember that whole “no-knead bread” thing? The same principle applies here: give the yeast more time, and it’ll develop the gluten etc. on its own. You’re just there to integrate the dry and wet ingredients. How easy is that?

Sourdough starter, you say? I haven’t heard that name in years…

If you’re not a Sourdough Person, don’t worry—just use 4 g (½ teaspoon) of good instant yeast. Remember that I love the Saf-Instant brand. The recipe should otherwise be pretty much the same. (You could add an extra 35 g of water and 35 g of flour to make up for the lack of sourdough mass, but no one’s gonna know.)

Wow, you used a LOT of olive oil.

Thank you! If for some reason you don’t wish to eat so much olive oil, a delicious and healthy natural ingredient, then it’s probably best not to make focaccia at all. Sorry!!

What can I put ON this puppy to make it even tastier?

Oh man, come in. Sit down. Is that olive-oil complainer gone? Good. Ok, so. Here are some things I love on focaccia:

Cherry tomatoes, cut in half if very large
Grapes, same strategy
Olives
Sweet onion, shaved to paper-thin rings
Roasted garlic cloves
Rosemary
Thinly sliced zucchini
Same approach with lemon

With the chunky toppings (tomatoes), add them in the dimpling stage, using them TO dimple (you might have to do some extra dimpling with bare fingers, still)—stuff them INTO the dough. With the flat ones (onion rings) just lay them on top of already dimpled dough.

Isn’t focaccia usually more flat and floppy? Your looks kind of craggy and dark.

*squinting* Are you that olive-oil person again? Anyway, it’s true that focaccia in Italy is often much more flat and has a smaller crumb, but I happen to deeply prefer this “rustic,” martian-landscape bread. It’s just more fun.

That said, if you want a soft and pillowy focaccia for a sandwich or to make cheesy bread, bake it at 435ºF. Add anywhere from 5 to 15 minutes to the total bake time until it looks set, though not as charred as seen above.

Enjoy!

The Fastest Pan Pizza

2021-06-30T00:00:00Z

When you proof your dough low and slow (a few days in the fridge, say) you develop both its flavor—from various bacteria having time to develop—and its structure, as the yeast process builds the gluten network further. And that’s rad. But sometimes, you just want pizza this afternoon. Here’s how to get an impressive pie on the table in 3 hours or so. Ready, set… dough!

Neven’s Fastest Pan Pizza

Servings: one 9 × 13" pizza. 4-6 people?
Time: 10 min mix + 2-3 hr proof + 15 min bake

INGREDIENTS:

315 g all-purpose flour (you can do 100 g high-gluten flour)
5 g yeast
5 g salt
5 g sugar
255 g water
20 g olive oil

DIRECTIONS:

In the bowl of your chosen appliance (see below) combine the flour and yeast and stir well. Add the salt and sugar and stir again. Add the water and oil.

If using a stand mixer: mix 2 minutes on low; stop, scrape down, then mix another 2 minutes on medium-low; scrape down again and mix another 2 minutes at a medium speed; this is quite an aggressive speed for dough.
If using a food processor, process for 30-60 seconds until a cohesive ball is riding around the blade.

When the dough looks smooth and integrated—it will still be very wet and sticky—move it to a large, oiled bowl and cover it.

On a warm day, this bulk proof will take only about 1 hour; keep an eye on it for the last 15 minutes of that, as it may threaten to jump out of the bowl. On a cold day, you might have to go as long as 2 hours. (You can always find a warm spot, or make your oven into one by heating it for a brief minute, then turning it off.)

Oil your 9 × 13 pan thoroughly, brushing to cover every spot; a nonstick aluminum pan will work well. Once the dough is more than doubled, puffy and light, gently scrape it into the middle of the oiled pan. Oil the top of the dough a little and spread the dough to the corners a bit; you still want to use gentle movements, but make sure you’re covering at least 70% of your pan with dough, and get it even-ish in thickness. With a wet, airy dough like this, you don’t want to beat it up. That said, the time to stretch it is now and not later after it’s even more gassy.

Cover the whole pan with something tall (as the dough will rise up a lot). Use a bigger, taller pan turned upside down, or a huge bowl maybe? Even a clean plastic box will work, really—it won’t touch the food anyway. Proof for another 30-90 minutes. The dough should fill the pan aaaalmost fully, and it should look extremely alive and inflated.

In the meantime, preheat your oven at 550ºF with a rack in the middle.

When the dough looks great, drizzle a little more olive oil on top. Pop into the oven for 5 minutes, rotating it halfway through the bake. Remove from the oven when it looks “dry”; it needn’t look golden brown or anything. This par-bake will make sure your crust gets a good vertical rise before it’s weighed down by toppings.

Let it rest for 5 minutes in the pan, then top. My preferred approach goes like this, from the bottom to the top:

Sliced cheese (aged mozzarella, provolone, muenster…)
Light sauce
Dry cheese (Romano, parmesan…)
Fresh cheese chunks (fresh mozzarella, ricotta…)
Toppings

Move that middle oven rack to the top third of the oven. Bake the pizza for 5-10 minutes, until the whole thing makes delicious frying sounds and the top looks done.

Wait 5 minutes, or eat hours later at room temp.

Tips, tricks, and tomato sauce

With quick-working yeast recipes, it is very important that your yeast is super healthy and alive. A packet of Fleischmann that’s been in the pantry for months is a risky proposition. Buy the really good stuff and store it in the freezer; use straight from the freezer.

Having published several pizza recipes, I’ve never explained what tomato sauce I use. So here’s my general-purpose tomato sauce recipe!

Neven’s Simple Tomato-Butter Sauce

INGREDIENTS

14 oz can good canned, crushed tomatoes (Bianco di Napoli, Carmelina’s, Sclafani, Pomi…)
½ tsp salt
1 tbsp butter

DIRECTIONS

Put all the ingredients in a skillet at the same time. Heat at medium-low for about 20 minutes, stirring occasionally; you want to see a steady simmer, but without the sauce popping out of the pan. When the sauce is thickened, it’s done.

For a punchier variation, sauté diced garlic in the pan at very low heat until fragrant; add dried herbs (thyme, oregano, marjoram) and red pepper flakes; then add the ingredients as above and proceed.

That’s it for fast pizza!

P.S. More baking recipes are available at https://mrgan.com

Buttermilk Biscuits

2021-06-18T00:00:00Z

Everyone loves biscuits! And if you look up how to make them, basically every recipe is about the same. Mine isn’t anything earth-shattering, but it does have one unusual step. Scroll on down to find out what it is! (The secret is folding more than you think you should—ed.)

Neven’s Buttermilk Biscuits

Servings: 6-9 biscuits
Time: 15 minute mix + 15 minute fold + 30 minute bake

INGREDIENTS:

280 g all-purpose flour
80 g high-gluten flour (or more APF)
25 g sugar
10 g salt
4 teaspoons baking powder
½ teaspoon baking soda
165 g (1.5 sticks) unsalted butter, very cold
1 ¼ cup buttermilk, cold

DIRECTIONS:

First, the most important thing: keep everything as cold as you can. Place a large bowl in the fridge if you can; pop the whole butter sticks into the freezer as you prep.

Put a sheet of parchment paper on a half-sheet pan (18″ × 13″) as your final landing area for the cut biscuits. Pre-heat your oven to 400ºF with a rack in the top third of the oven.

In the cold bowl, whisk together your flour(s), sugar, salt, baking powder, and baking soda. Grab your whole sticks of cold butter and grate them (using the side with the large, pizza-cheese holes) into the bowl with the flour. Using a spatula, fold gently to combine, but without mushing up the butter shreds.

Pour in the buttermilk and fold again with that spatula. You’re trying to kind of sort of get it uniform, but it’ll still look like an awful mess. Your goal is just to integrate the big pool of dry flour from the bottom of the bowl into a shaggy mass in the middle.

Dust with flour a surface as big as you can afford: a workbench, a clean counter, a large cutting board. Gently flip your “dough” (lol) onto it and shake out any remaining flour from the bowl. It will look like an intimidating, dry mound; that’s to be expected.

Grab a bench scraper or another thin, flat-sided tool. (A small, flexible cutting board works.) Now press gently from the sides and the top of your pile to form a sort of tight box. Don’t squeeze it like Play-Doh™, but do try to pack it.

Using your scraper tool, go under the sides of the dough and make sure it’s not stuck to the work surface. Still using the scraper to help you, flip one third from any side over the middle; then flip the remaining third to make a thicker shape with 2 folds in it, like a letter (you know how we all fold letters all the time these days?) Press down to get the whole thing to the original, starting height again. This is your basic biscuit-folding move; this is what builds those flaky layers, butter being laminated between strata of flour.

Here comes the unusual part of my recipe: where most write-ups will tell you to repeat this two or three times, I’m going to suggest that you do so a dozen times. That’s right, get a solid 36 folds in there (each step creates 3 “folds”). The thing is, I don’t “mix” my dough much in the previous steps, so this folding is how we’ll get the whole thing together and develop lots of layers. If it sounds like a lot of work, don’t worry; once you figure out the folding move (which you have to do either way), it only gets easier as you repeat it.

The dough should keep getting more flexible and easier to work with as the flour is integrated into it. If you start to feel some sticking, add a bit of flour to the sticky spots, but don’t go wild with it. If the whole thing sticks to the work surface, use that scraper and move along and under the sides again to free it, and maybe add a bit of flour there.

Toward the last 3-4 folds, you can start using a rolling pin to ensure an even height to your dough. The end result should be a rectangle 1.5" thick and maybe 9" × 13" in size, fairly smooth and without any huge spots of butter or flour in it. Press in the sides to ensure a square-ish appearance to the thing, but don’t expect perfection.

Once you’re satisfied with the final folded dough, cut off those raggedy sides; they’d impede a clean vertical rise of your biscuits. Use your scraper tool—or a big knife—to cut about ½" off each side so the remaining rectangle is super sharp and even. Cut straight down with no sawing motion; just slam straight down confidently. I believe in you.

Using the same BAM! cutting motion, divide your dough rectangle into 6-9 biscuits; how many is up to you and your idea of what looks good and what’s possible with the dough. Move the cut biscuits gently—separating from the work surface with that scraper tool if nedded—to the prepared sheet pan with the parchment paper on it. Keep a 1-2" space between your biscuits as they will expand some during the bake.

Discard the cut-off dough… I’m just kidding, come on. Take those end scraps and press them together from their sides to make a sort of rectangle with them. Letter-fold the rectangle again as best as you can, press down to make it neat, and cut however many biscuits it will produce (2? 3?) Cut off the sides again and press them into one wacky biscuit that’ll rise unevenly but still be delicious. This should be your only un-square biscuit. Move all the new biscuits to the prepared sheet pan.

Grab another ¼ cup buttermilk and brush the tops of your biscuits with it; just enough to cover them, without getting goopy. Pop the whole thing into the oven and set a timer for 20 minutes. Rotate halfway through that time if you’re around.

Check your biscuits’ appearance: golden, with some dark areas along the top? Are the bottoms also developing a nice crust? You might not be done after 20 minutes, so feel free to set a timer for another 3-12 minutes, as needed.

When your biscuits look so good you want to build an ethical photo-sharing platform just to show them to the world, remove them from the oven. Feel free to brush them with butter. (Just running that remaining half a stick of butter over them like lip gloss will do.) Let them cool for at least 10 minutes before eating them.

PRO TIPS:

Try to find full-fat buttermilk. Sometimes it’s called “Bulgarian style” or another exotic name that means it’s flavorful and good.
You can freeze unbaked biscuits. Once your biscuits are cut and on the sheet pan, place the whole sheet pan in the freezer for 2 hours, uncovered. When the biscuits are rock-hard, move them to a freezer bag, fold to get all the air out of the bag, close, and store in the freezer for, like, 3 months or so. Bake from frozen (DO NOT THAW) and add 5-15 minutes to the bake time, until they look delectable.
Do you think grating butter is weird? Are you weirded out by it? You can also cut it to a fine dice and then press it into flat discs in the flour using your hands. It’s a free country.
Leftover biscuits should be stored in a closed container once they’re fully cooled off. You can keep them around on the counter for 2-3 days, and reheat in a low oven, either whole or split.
I’m gonna hide a Mega Pro Tip here where no one will read it: buttermilk is incredibly delicious and you should just drink it out of a glass.

Sourdough English Muffins

2021-03-15T00:00:00Z

If you’re going to have a sandwich for breakfast, your best bread option is an English Muffin. If you’re going to buy those, your best choice is Bays brand. But if you’re a Sourdough Person, you can make the best Anglo Muffs of your life at home.

This recipe should be super chill for anyone who has baked sourdough before. It’s largely based on the method employed by The Model Bakery. We’re gonna be frying these buns.

Neven’s Sourdough English Muffins

Servings: 12
Time: 15 min mix + 6 hour proof + 10 minute shape + overnight proof + 20 minute cook

INGREDIENTS:

400 g all-purpose flour
100 g high-gluten flour (or more APF)
10 g salt
300 g water
135 g ripe-and-ready sourdough starter
18 g olive oil
~¼ cup semolina, or medium-coarse cornmeal
6 tbsp clarified butter (ghee), or plain butter

DIRECTIONS:

In the bowl of your stand mixer, stir together the flours and the salt. Add the water, the starter, and the olive oil. Attach the bowl to the mixer equipped with the dough hook attachment. Start the mixer on the lowest speed and mix for 3 minutes, then stop and scrape down the sides, releasing the dough ball from the dough hook. Kick up the speed to the next notch and mix for another 3 minutes. Stop, scrape, and increase the speed by 1 again; mix another 3-4 minutes, until the dough is smooth.

Transfer the dough to another, lightly oiled bowl (I like a wider, shallower container for this) and cover. Leave on the counter for 4-6 hours; it will need less time on a very hot day, more on a cold one.

Once the dough looks smoothly inflated—note that it may not double in size—flour a workbench. Grab a half-sheet pan (18″ x 13″) and lay a piece of parchment paper on it, then generously and uniformly dust it with semolina or cornmeal.

The dough should be light and gassy, so handle it gently and use flour as needed. With a bench scraper or knife, cut it intos dozen ~80 g pieces. Shape each into a ball by pulling the sides towards the middle and pinching together, then flip it over and roll on the bench to form a smooth top and a bottom sealed together by rolling. Place these balls on the dusted half-sheet pan, spacing them evenly; they will grow somewhat during their second proof. Cover carefully with a large proofing bag or plastic wrap.

Proof overnight (12-18 hours) in a cool place—either the fridge, or something like a basement/garage if it gets no warmer than 55ºF.

In the morning, we’re going to “fry” the English muffins. You’ll want to use a large cooking surface—either a griddle that will hold ¼" of melted clarified butter, or one or more cast-iron skillets. I used two 12" cast-iron skillets. Heat them up for a few minutes over medium-low-to-medium heat.

Melt the clarified butter; this will happen quickly. Now pick up your muffins very gently and flip them into the oil with the un-dusted, top side down; you’ll fit 3-4 per skillet. Cook for 3-4 minutes, then flip and do another 3-4 minutes. Look for beautiful browning, but without burning; adjust the heat if needed. Also remember to rotate the skillet occasionally to avoid hot spots.

When cooked, move the muffins to a cooling rack lined with paper towels. Rest for at least 20 minutes. Split with a knife and toast the inside if you’d like. Make into a sandwich, top with jam, or eat as-is. Store in a sealed container, and freeze after 1-2 days if any are left over.

Notes on ingredients and technique are discussed below these two braggy pictures. Yeah, I eat English Muffin sandwiches!

JUST A FEW QUICK SUGGESTIONS AND OBSERVATIONS, IF YOU HAPPEN TO HAVE A MINUTE

What’s a clarified butter?

Clarified butter is butter with its milk solids and water removed—so what’s left is just the fat part of it. It lasts longer and won’t burn as easily in the pan. To make it, you can just melt a stick or two of butter over low heat, then scoop off the floating milk solids and discard any watery stuff left at the bottom.

I’m sorry, I thought we were making English Muffins, not doing chemistry!

Yeah, well. You’re totally welcome to fry these in regular butter, but watch out for burns. Maybe turn down the temp and cook for longer.

I’m supposed to split these with a fork, not a knife, right?

No.

Are you sure?

Yes.

I’m pretty sure everyone says to split your English Muffins with a fork, NOT a knife.

People say a lot of things.

It’s how you get the nooks and crannies!

Oh here we go with the nooks and crannies…

Those are the best part of the muff!

I think we’re done here.

Nooks. Crannies. Hello!

Thank you, please leave now.

Who the hell splits things with a knife??

(yelling through the closed door) It’s what knives were invented for! Cutting things!

(crowd dressed up as Nooks and Crannies picketing outside my house) NOOKS AND CRANNIES! NOOKS AND CRANNIES!

Fine! Use a spoon! Use a cheese grater to “cut” your English Muffin! Put them in the dishwasher! Pickle them, for all I care.

Do you have a recipe for these based on commercial yeast rather than sourdough?

Not right now, sorry.

Burger Buns

2021-02-22T00:00:00Z

Have you had a “hamburger” before? It’s like a meat “patty” on a pillowy, soft bun. They’re pretty interesting sandwiches!! But seriously, folks—this bun recipe is so nice and simple, you’re going to forget that the store ones are like $2 for an 8-pack. Let’s get started.

Neven’s Burger Buns

Servings: 8
Time: 15 min mix + 3.5 hr proof + 20 min bake + 20 min cool

INGREDIENTS

200 g all-purpose flour
250 g high-gluten (bread) flour, or more APF
8 g salt
20 g sugar
7 g (one package) instant yeast
125 g lukewarm water
115 g milk
1 egg
45 g butter, at room temp

More info about the ingredients follows after the recipe.

DIRECTIONS

In the bowl of your stand mixer, stir together the flours, salt, sugar, and yeast. Add the water, milk, and egg, but not the butter. Attach the bowl to the mixer equipped with the dough hook attachment. Start the mixer on the lowest speed and mix for 2 minutes, then stop and scrape down the sides, releasing the dough ball from the dough hook. Go up to the next higher speed, and start adding the butter in small pads—toss one in, wait for it to get fully mixed in and no longer visible, then add more. This may take 3-5 minutes. When all the butter is added in, go one speed higher on the mixer again and mix for another 2 minutes. The dough will be smooth, stretchy and a little sticky.

Transfer the dough to another, large, lightly oiled bowl (I like a wider, shallower container for this) and cover. Leave on the counter for 2 hours; it will need a little less time on a very hot day.

Once the dough looks smoothly inflated and doubled in size, move it to a work surface (a clean workbench or a cutting board). Use a bench scraper or knife to cut the dough into ~108 g balls. Shape each into a ball by pulling the sides towards the middle and pinching together, then flip it over and roll on the counter to form a smooth top and a bottom sealed together by rolling. (This video of pizza-ball shaping will be instructive.) Place these balls on a half-sheet pan (18″ x 13″) and cover with a clean, non-terry towel. Rest for 60-90 minutes.

30 minutes before the second proof is done, preheat your oven to 425ºF with a rack in the top third.

When the buns looks very large and puffy, uncover them carefully. From this point on, don’t poke or move them; they’re filled with gas and we want to keep them that way. All that’s left is to egg-wash them. Beat one egg, then gently brush some onto each bun. Go for even coverage in as thin a layer as you can manage.

If you’d like to add toppings at this point, go ahead. Sesame seeds, poppy seeds, onion—the sky’s the limit.

Pop the sheet pan into the oven and set a timer for 15 minutes. Rotate the pan after 7-8 minutes. At the end, check that the buns are large, golden, and irresistibly shiny; you may have to add another 2-5 minutes to the bake, or not.

Move each bun carefully to a cooling rack and let them fully cool, at least 20 minutes. They’re now ready to use or store for a day or two. They also freeze beautifully and thaw out on the counter overnight just fine.

Ideally, griddle them in butter before using for a sandwich.

I refuse to discuss what you do with the rest of your burger because I don’t want Internet drama.

HELPFUL INFORMATION YOU MAY ASSUME IS SPONSORED CONTENT AT THE BOTTOM OF THE POST BUT IT’S NOT, IT’S REALLY NOT

What’s with the high-gluten flour? This is the baker’s “secret,” a flour that gives you that strong, chewy crumb bakeries achieve. You likely won’t find anything labeled “high-gluten flour” in stores. You could buy “bread flour” there, or shop at your local restaurant-supply store! Like you’re a restaurant!
My favorite commercial yeast is Saf-Instant brand. Buy a big thing of it and keep it in the freezer; use straight out of the freezer. By the way, that restaurant-supply store will likely carry it.
Can you make this without a stand mixer? Hm maaaaybe, but it’s going to take a solid 30 minutes of hand-kneading. See, this is an enriched dough, meaning it contains things like milk and eggs. To get those really integrated into the final mix, you need to knead a lot. The dough should be utterly smooth by the end, with the butter fully incorporated. It’s doable, though—I believe in you!
When proofing, you can use a towel, or one of these sweet proofing bags.
For sliders, shape twelve buns, ~72 g each. Or if you’d like 12 burger buns, 1.5x the recipe, but watch out when spacing them on the half sheet pan. Or use a Big Sheet!
I’ve successfully replaced the milk in this recipe with buttermilk for a tangier taste.

Neven’s Sourdough Bagels

2020-11-08T00:00:00Z

Here’s the good news: the best bagel recipe I’ve made has also been the least demanding one. How often does that happen?

The bad news is… well, there’s no bad news. These are delicious and fairly no-nonsense. The recipe follows; after that, scroll down if you’d like to learn more.

Neven’s Sourdough Bagels

Servings: 8
Time: 15 min mix + 6 hr proof + overnight proof + 1 hr boil & bake

INGREDIENTS:

450 g high-gluten flour (or bread flour, or all-purpose flour)
50 g whole wheat flour (or more of the above flour)
20 g sugar
10 g salt
250 g water
125 g ripe sourdough starter

DIRECTIONS:

In the bowl of your stand mixer, stir together the flours, salt, and sugar. Attach to the mixer equipped with the dough hook attachment. In another bowl or cup, mix the water and starter gently. Start the mixer on the lowest speed and slowly add the water+starter mix. Mix for 4 minutes, then stop and scrape down the sides, releasing the dough ball from the dough hook. Mix for another 4-5 minutes, until the dough is smooth.

Once the dough looks smoothly inflated—note that it may not double in size—use a bench scraper or knife to cut into ~112 g balls. Shape each into a ball by pulling the sides towards the middle and pinching together, then flip it over and roll on the counter to form a smooth top and a bottom sealed together by rolling. Place these balls on a half-sheet pan (18″ x 13″) and cover with a clean, non-terry towel. Rest for 10-15 minutes.

Shape bagel rings by grabbing a ball and poking a hole through its center with an oiled or floured finger. Then gently stretch out the ring, doing your best to keep it even all around. No need to sweat this too much; the bagels will smooth out a lot during the bake. Here’s a video of my stretching method:

Once all the rings are on the sheet, cover it well with plastic wrap or place inside a large proofing bag. Stick it in the fridge. (I realize this can be tricky, but do your best to Tetris your jars and Tupperware™ to create an even horizontal surface.) Let them proof for 12-48 hours.

The next day, before you bake, do the following in this order:

Preheat your oven to 500ºF with a rack in the top third. (The exact placement will depend a bit on your oven; see what works best.)
Fill a very wide pot with ~3″ of water and bring to a boil; turn down to a steady but controlled boil. Place a spider or slotted spoon nearby.
Put a large pan next to the pot and cover it with a clean towel; this is where you’ll place the bagels after boiling them.
Grab a metal pan of any size and fill it with at least a cup of water; this will be your steam pan. I use a cheap aluminum pan. Please, please DO NOT use glass, Pyrex, or ceramic; they may shatter.
Take the bagel pan out of the fridge and uncover it.
Grab another half-sheet pan and line it with parchment paper.

You’ll boil the bagels briefly, drain them on the towel-lined sheet, then place them on your final baking sheet. Try to work quickly as it’s best for the bagels to go from the boil to the oven without much delay.

When the water is boiling, pick up one bagel and gently lower into the water. (You can use your hand to do this, not the spider.) Add 2 or 3 more bagels—whatever fits comfortably in your pot. Boil them for 40 seconds, then flip and boil another 40 seconds. Scoop out onto the towel, flipping over so the puffy, smooth side faces up.

Boil the rest of the bagels in batches. As the boiled bagels cool off a bit—it should take just 30 seconds to a minute—gently move them to the final baking sheet.

When all the bagels are boiled and on the sheet, take your steam pan and put it on the very bottom of your oven. It will quickly begin to steam; this will give the bagels their crunchy outer crust. Now slide the bagel pan into that top-third rack of your oven.

Bake for 10 minutes without opening the door; you want the steam to stay inside. Open the door, rotate the pan, and bake another 5 minutes. At this point, assess how dark the bagels are. Too dark for comfort? Drop the temperature to 450ºF or even 425ºF. Or not—I do 500ºF throughout the whole bake myself.

After the 20 total minutes of baking, the bagels should look puffy, smooth, golden, and wonderfully micro blistered. Take them out of the oven, then move to a cooling rack.

Wait 20-30 minutes before slicing them; I know, I know.

I’m not going to tell you what to put on them or how to eat them—that’s between you and your maker. Enjoy!

OCCASIONALLY AMUSING NOTES:

But Neven, am I not supposed to be using lye or baking soda or something?

This is certainly the typical method for making bagels: add a terrifying drop of caustic lye to your water while wearing scuba gear and praying on a rosary. It’s meant to create a certain bagely something, contribute to the chew or mouthfeel or whatever… After making several batches that turned out “alright” and weren’t any chewier than anything else, I gave up and started boiling my bagels in plain water. And look at me today!

Did I read that right, you bake at 500ºF? Some say, like, 375ºF?

Bagels I baked at any temperature below 475ºF turned out pale and unsatisfying. Maybe my oven is broken? Either way, give it a shot and drop the temp if you feel you need to. (My bet is, you won’t.)

Do you have a version made with commercial yeast?

I was not happy with the flavor or the bake of the yeast-based bagels I made. Sorry. —Sourdough Guy

What’s a proofing bag?

One of those things they use on the Great British Bake Off. They’re sweet! So much easier than wrapping plastic on top of dough. Get ‘em here. Oh and those flat parchment paper sheets? So much better than the dumb rolls!!

Can I make a dozen bagels?

You can, I believe in you! Just 1.5x the recipe (it should work fine in a typical stand mixer) and bake on a Big Sheet pan (21″ x 15″). It’ll be a bit of a squeeze to fit 12 bagels on a half-sheet pan.

Oh right, I don’t have a stand mixer!

Mix the dough by hand 🙂

Are those bialys up there?

Heck yeah those are bialys up there. Here’s how to do those: Ball up dough, but don’t poke any holes through it. Proof in the fridge as above. In the morning, pizza-shape it into a disc about 5-6″ in size, with a puffy rim. Top with chopped garlic or sautéed diced onion mixed with poppy seeds. Obviously, don’t boil them, just bake them.

How do I store any leftover bagels?

“Leftover bagels? Does not compu [giant hook drops from the sky and pulls me into the clouds, screaming] Once they’re totally cooled off, place your bagels in a paper bag or bread box overnight; they’ll toast up fine in the morning. If you don’t get to them that next day, then slice them and store in the freezer. You can then thaw for a few hours and toast.

That’s it! Thanks for reading!

P.S. I put pimento cheese and beet + smoked salmon cream cheese on these bagels. Nice, huh?

P.P.S. When I link to products above, I use an Amazon affiliate link; if you choose to purchase anything this way, I thank you.

Neven’s Pan Pizza

2020-05-17T00:00:00Z

Pan pizza is the best pizza you can make in a typical home oven. It’s also a style that’s tricky to find in restaurants (though it’s becoming more popular.) That means you should make it, and I’m here to help. This is my simple, flexible, delicious recipe.

(Before we begin, have you seen my thin-style pizza recipe? It’s a good idea to read it even if you’re here primarily for the pan pie.)

Neven’s Pan Pizza

Servings: one 9 x 13” (or 10 x 14”) pizza
Time: 3.5 hours (mix and proof) + 1 to 3 days (fridge-ferment) + 6 hours (final proof) + 25 to 40 minutes (shape, top, and bake)

INGREDIENTS:

175 g all-purpose flour
75 g high-gluten or bread flour (or all-purpose flour)
5 g (2%) salt
50 g (20%) ripe sourdough starter, fed and doubled and ready
200 g (80%) water
~2 tbsp olive oil

DIRECTIONS:

Put all the dry ingredients into the bowl of a stand mixer outfitted with the dough hook and stir with a spatula to combine. Add the starter and about 2/3 of the water. Start the mixer on low speed and mix for 1 minute; add the rest of the water, and mix for 4 more minutes. Switch to medium speed and mix for another 5 minutes. If at any point the dough threatens to crawl out of the bowl, stop the mixer and scrape the mess back down into the bowl. The dough will be wet and sticky—not to worry, that’s what 80% hydration looks like.

Scoop the dough out into a new bowl (wider, shallowe, preferably non-metal.) Cover the bowl with plastic wrap and let the dough rest in a warm spot for 3 hours. (70–74°F? An oven that was on for two minutes before being turned off is a good environment.) Every 30 minutes or so, fold the dough—just go around the edge of the dough with a flexible spatula and fold the outside in, like a scared starfish. You’re just trying to redistribute the dough to make it nice and smooth.

Grab a 9x13 nonstick sheet pan, with sides at least 1.5″ tall. (See below for a list of my preferred equipment.) Pour in 1.5 tbsp olive oil—about two glugs—and spread it around. (If your pan is truly nonstick, you don’t have to be thorough here; if it’s not, cover every damn millimeter with oil. Not a lot of oil, just complete coverage.) After the 3 hours have passed, move the dough into the pan. Gently scrape it into the middle of the pan, then flip the dough over so both sides are oiled. Flatten it just a tad and leave it alone. It won’t come close to filling the pan, and that’s ok. Now’s the time for it to go to sleep in the cold: cover your pan tightly and move it to a fridge shelf for 1-3 days.

6 hours before baking, remove the pan from the fridge and set it on the counter. Feel free to sneak a peak at the dough: it looks about the same, yeah? Now watch it spread out and blow small bubbles in the coming hours, especially if you give it a nice, warm environment again.

Preheat your oven at 500ºF for at least half an hour, with your rack somewhere around the lower middle; all ovens vary, so adjust as needed after you see your finished pie’s top and bottom bakes.

To stretch the dough: uncover the pan and oil your fingers with the olive oil pooled in the corners. Now gently dimple the dough and watch for bubbles—cool, yeah? Spread it softly from the middle, grabbing the dough corners and lifting them into the pan corners if needed. Your dough will be very soft and may seem uneven, but don’t sweat it; just patch any holes without massaging the dough too much.

Topping time! Please place on your pizza whatever you like. Pan pies generally work better with cheese on the bottom. Also, try not to overtop it because that fluffy, fluffy dough needs to be able to rise—too much weight on top will prevent it from doing so. Remember that you can add a lot of stuff after baking—including tomato sauce!

So, line the dough with cheese. My preference is to use sliced mozzarella or provolone, though shredded or cubed will also work. Add extra cheese into the corners of the pan, so it bakes up into an irresistible cheese crust. Spoon cooked tomato sauce on top (in a hip diagonal pattern if you want to look fashionable on Instagram) and add any other toppings.

Bake for 12-16 minutes, rotating half way through. Watch the pie carefully in the last few minutes. Oh, did I mention—crank your vent hood because the cheese will burn and smoke, beautifully so.

When your pizza looks good enough to elope and start a new life in Mexico with, pull it out using decent oven mitts. Give it a minute to come to its senses, then go around the rim with a thin, non-scratchy tool—like a plastic knife or a small spatula—to release the cheese and sauce from the pan. It shouldn’t be much of a struggle if you used a good pan. Now dexterously slip an offset spatula or a burger flipper under one (narrow) side of the pizza and transfer it to a cooling rack.

If you’re feeling particularly naughty, shower the finished pie with finely grated parmesan cheese. I won’t tell anyone.

Give your pizza 5 minutes to rest—ok, ok, you have my permission to cut it after 2 minutes. Move to a cutting board and have at it with a large, sharp knife.

- - - END OF RECIPE - - -
- - - ADDITIONAL INFORMATION AND ANECDOTES BELOW - - -

Just a reminder that my thin-style pizza recipe has more info about technique and ingredients and such, and I’m not going to repeat it all here like an aging musician running out of inspiration and covering their heyday hits to pander to the old fans.

Questions? Comments?

I don’t even have a sourdough, man.

It’s like, month three of quarantine—what have you been doing with your time?

Alright, alright.

Neven’s Pan Pizza for Non-sourdough Folks Who Nevertheless Deserve Our Love and Respect

Servings: one 9 x 13 (or 10 x 14) pizza
Time: 3.5 hours (mix and proof) + 1 day (fridge-ferment) + 2 hours (final proof) + 25 to 40 minutes (shape, top, and bake)

INGREDIENTS:

175 g all-purpose flour
75 g high-gluten or bread flour (or all-purpose flour)
5 g (2%) salt
3 g (~1%) instant yeast (half a package thingy)
200 g (80%) water

DIRECTIONS:

Stir all the dry ingredients well in a large bowl, then add the yeast and water and stir again, using a silicone or wood spatula. When it starts coming together, pour in the olive oil and work it in. No need to get it smooth; just mix until there’s no dry flour on the bottom. Cover tightly with plastic wrap.

Every 30 minutes in the next 2 hours, fold it: slide the spatula under one side and fold it over toward the middle. Do 4-6 folds like this in one session. No need to be picky about the 30-minute timing, just shoot for 2-4 fold sessions in the first few hours of proofing, to distribute everything well.

Cover and leave out at room temperature for 12-18 hours. Just go to bed, don’t worry about it. You’ve worked hard all day.

The next day, the dough should look huge and bubbly. Does it? Oh, good. Now proceed with the above recipe from the pan-oiling step: move it to a pan, give it 1-2 hours to relax, stretch it, etc.

But I don’t have a stand mixer.

(I couldn’t find a gif of Donald Pleasance in Wake in Fright (1971) so this still image will have to do.)

Look, it’s fine. Read the above no-sourdough steps. No mixer needed. You can just do that, even when using sourdough—maybe halve the amount of sourdough starter. (It’s potent stuff.)

And now, a chaser for that hot hot image above.

Shop Talk

My attorneys have advised me to disclose that the links below include my referral code, which will make me even filthier rich than I am currently. (How rich am I? I make my own pizza, that’s how rich.)

LloydPans Detroit Style Pizza Pan. These are just tremendous—wonderfully made, perfectly nonstick, stackable. Ideal for pan pizza, focaccia, and many other bakes.
Detroit Style Pizza Pan Lid. Not at all required, but if you get serious about this pan pizza business, the lids are great because they’re reusable and they let you stack several pans in the fridge. (Note that you can bake two of these pizzas side by side in a typical oven. That’s what I do. Yes, it’s because I eat one whole pizza myself.)
Cooling rack. I can’t stress enough the importance of cooling and resting your pizza—thin or thick, before it’s had a chance to release all that steam, it’s still kind of a wet mess of a casserole.

The End

I realize some folks still think that thin vs. thick is an interesting pizza debate to be having in the 2020s, but I hope they can move on and get into all the pizza styles out there. Pan pies are so good. See for yourself.

Neven’s Pizza Dough

2020-04-16T00:00:00Z

Sour cream, mozzarella, Sulguni cheese, pepperoni. Home oven, baking steel.

I like pizza, and I make it often. You also like pizza. Perhaps you’d like to make it as well? Here’s the recipe for my sourdough pizza, ideal for Neapolitan or NYC-style pies, baked in a home oven with a baking steel or stone, or in an outdoor oven. Scroll past the recipe if you’d like to learn more!

Neven’s Sourdough Pizza

Servings: two 12” pizzas.
Time: 3.5 hours (mix and proof) + 1 to 14 days (fridge-ferment) + 6 hours (final proof) + 10 to 20 minutes (shape, top, and bake)

INGREDIENTS:

260 g high-gluten or bread flour (or all-purpose flour)
40 g (15%) whole wheat or rye flour (or any flour, really)
9 g (3%) salt
15 g (5%) ripe sourdough starter
200 g (66%) water

DIRECTIONS:

Put all the dry ingredients into the bowl of a stand mixer (”a KitchenAid”) outfitted with the dough hook and stir with a spatula to combine. Add the starter and about 2/3 of the water. Start the mixer on low speed and mix for 1 minute; add the rest of the water, and mix for 4 more minutes. Switch to medium speed and mix for another 5 minutes. If at any point the dough threatens to crawl out of the bowl, stop the mixer and scrape the mess back down into the bowl.

Once mixed, move the dough to a new bowl. (I prefer a shallower, wider, non-metal one myself.) Cover the bowl and let the dough rest in a warm spot (70–74°F?) for 3 hours. Every 30 minutes or so, perform a stretch-and-fold.

Scoop the dough with a flexible dough scraper onto a lightly oiled work surface and cut into two 262 g portions. Shape each portion into a ball, tucking the ends in toward the middle to form a taut, balloon-like surface on one side. Pop into a lightly oiled 16 oz deli container (do you have some from food deliveries?), messy side down. Cover and pop in the back of the fridge for 1-14 days. (I find the flavor is best around 7 days.)

6 hours before baking, remove the containers from the fridge and leave them on the counter. 2 hours before baking, uncover them. This will dry out the top somewhat, which is great; that will become the not-so-sticky bottom of your crust.

Portioned dough balls after being uncovered.

If using a home oven: 1 hour before baking, pop a baking stone or baking steel or upside-down pan on a rack 6-8" from the top broiler. Crank it up to 550ºF and leave it there.

To stretch the dough: hold the container upside down and wiggle the dough out of it gently; dont worry about whether it stays a perfect ball. Place it into a shallow, wide bowl of flour and make sure the wet end and the sides get some flour (not too much) on them. Place it on your wooden peel with the dry (previously the top) side down and press gently around the inside of the rim to make a little ringed pizza-prototype.

Then pick it up and stretch with your knuckles (don’t use your fingers). It should be very friendly, stretchy without any pullback or tearing. Stretch to 10" in size. Shimmy the peel a bit to make sure no part of the dough has stuck; repeat this shimmying every minute or so if it takes you that long to top it.

Stretching the dough using knuckles only.

My topping strategy for a standard cheese pizza: layer the dough with sliced mozzarella cheese, then add dabs of sauce, and your toppings. Now gently tug under the rim all around to stretch to 12″; the weight of the toppings will help prevent pullback.

Redistribute the toppings if needed. Shimmy again. Expertly slide onto the steel/stone/pan.

If using a home oven: set a timer for 4 minutes. Then, open the oven door and check the underside of your pizza. Almost done, while the top is still a bit pale? If so, slide a metal pizza pan (or a cookie sheet or something else thin, metal, and as large as the pie) under it. This prevents the bottom from getting overbaked. Rotate the arrangement 180º to get even baking. Set a timer for 3 minutes.

When the pizza is gorgeous, slide it out with a metal pizza peel or a large flat spatula or whatever. (Don’t use your wooden peel—that’s for shaping and launching only.) Rest it on a cooling rack for 1-2 minutes to dry out the bottom. Then move to a cutting board or plate and slice. (Don’t use your wooden peel for this either, please!)

If using an outdoor pizza oven: if you own one of these, you probably know what to do. Have at it, sport!

Sour cream, mozzarella, provolone, chives and garlic chives. Ooni Koda oven.

33% whole wheat in this dough. Aged for 9 days in the fridge.

- - - END OF RECIPE - - -
- - - NOTES AND MUSINGS FOLLOW - - -

A note on baker’s percentages

When a dough is “66% hydrated,” that doesn’t mean the final ball of dough is two-thirds water. Rather, what bakers mean is, water is equal to 66% of the flour weight. Got it? That way, you can measure out your flour and scale all the other ingredients to it. I no longer refer to a recipe when I mix the dough, because I’ve memorized the percentages: 66% water, 3% salt, 5% starter. I also know that I need 150 g of flour per pizza; from these figures I can easily arrive at the weight of the other ingredients. Can you do the math in your head for, say, four pizzas? It’s easy! (Or maybe I’m just a math genius. (I am not a math genius.))

Just TWO pizzas? So what’s my boyfriend going to eat?

You can easily double the recipe. I wouldn’t go beyond 2x; you can’t mix much more than a kilo of dough in a typical stand mixer. If you’re doing a big pizza party and you want to make eight pies, first of all, congratulations! second, do it in two batches.

Do you think I’m the sort of person who has sourdough starter just sitting around?

“What does it matter what you say about people?”

I get it. I wasn’t always a Sourdough Guy. So, let me give you a recipe using commercial yeast. Bonus: it’s faster!

Normal-Person Pizza

Servings: two 12” pizzas.
Time: 3 hours (mix and proof) + 10 to 20 minutes (shape, top, and bake)

INGREDIENTS:

260 g high-gluten or bread flour (or all-purpose flour)
40 g (15%) whole wheat or rye flour (or any flour, really)
9 g (3%) salt
3 g instant yeast (~1 tsp, about half a little package thingy, 1%)
200 g (66%) water

DIRECTIONS:

Put all the dry ingredients into the bowl of a stand mixer (”a KitchenAid”) outfitted with the dough hook and stir with a spatula to combine. Add about 2/3 of the water. Start the mixer on low speed and mix for 1 minute; add the rest of the water, and mix for 4 more minutes. Switch to medium speed and mix for another 5 minutes. If at any point the dough threatens to crawl out of the bowl, stop the mixer and scrape it back down into the bowl.

Once mixed, move the dough to a new bowl. (I prefer a shallower, wider, non-metal one myself.) Cover the bowl and let the dough rest in a warm spot (70–74°C?) for 2 hours. Every 30 minutes or so, perform a stretch-and-fold.

Scoop the dough with a flexible dough scraper onto a lightly oiled work surface and cut into two 262 g portions. Shape each portion into a ball, tucking the ends in toward the middle to form a taut, balloon-like surface on one side. Place on a well floured board; flour the top some more; and cover with a clean, non-terry (non-”fuzzy”; you want “smooth”) kitchen towel. Rest for another 1-2 hours, watching for the dough to grow some more and start looking really taut and ready.

Proceed with the tossing, topping, and baking.

Carmelina brand tomatoes, sauced; garlic, fresh oregano. Ooni Koda oven.

Wait, but I don’t have a stand mixer either 😐

“It’s always gonna be something with you, isn’t it, Joe?”

No, that’s cool, that’s cool. Just mix by hand. Or by spatula, really. Mash it and fold it and fold it and mash it. Make sure you do frequent and thorough stretch-and-folds in this case. You really want to distribute everything uniformly in there.

And now, a word from our sponsors

(Note: none of the following products or brands are my sponsors. This is merely an idiom, come on.)

Juuuust in case you’re looking to add to your kitchen setup, here are the products I use for pizza making. Some of the links below include my referral code, which means I’ll get a tiny cut of the sale; the price is the same to you, though, so like, what does it matter? (I still feel a little uneasy. Sorry.)

Ooni Koda outdoor pizza oven. Simple, portable, hot as heck. Makes pizza you simply can’t get out of a home oven. These links give you 10% off! (UK link, EU link. These links all give you 10% off. BAM!)
Carmelina canned tomatoes in puree. Sweet, rich, flavorful. Buy them by the case.
Tillamook sour cream. Yes, sour cream makes a perfect sauce for a white pizza—which is generally an easier base to put creative toppings on! Make sure to buy the stuff where the ingredients are just cream and cultures, none of this cornstarch/carrageenan nonsense.
For flour, look for a local mill, if possible. Shop at restaurant-supply stores!
16 oz deli containers. Washable, sturdy, endlessly reusable. Love ‘em.
CoverMate bowl covers. Reusable, washable, transparent, secure.
Gram-precision kitchen scale. You know you need one. My favorite feature: extra long timeout (before it turns off) so I can forget to get the flour and run downstairs and hunt for it and when I come back, my measurement is still up on the screen.
I also like Ooni’s bamboo and metal peels a lot. You can get very cheap ones on Amazon, but understand that they’re… cheap.
Saf-Instant yeast. It’s got the cutest box. You can keep it in the freezer for years and use it right out of the freezer.
Oxo pizza cutter wheel. Whatever wheel you buy, just make sure it’s large and heavy—that’s what helps you cut neatly.

In conclusion

Pizza is good. Thank you.

Sliced mozzarella, parmesan, Carmelina brand tomatoes. Home oven, baking steel.

Broccoli Breakfast Sandwich

2019-03-20T00:00:00Z

Hi, good day to you. I have been eating broccoli breakfast sandwiches for breakfast since 2017, and I’m here to spread the good word to you: broccoli breakfast sandwiches are great.

New York sandwich-shop chef Tyler Kord wrote about a broccoli breakfast sandwich in his extremely good A Super Upsetting Cookbook About Sandwiches and I was intrigued, partly because it was one of the simpler recipes in the book. So I made it, and it was delicious. But why was it so delicious that I keep eating it, morning after morning?

Broccoli is wonderful. I can’t convince you of this any more than I can convince you that the color purple is pretty. Broccoli’s qualities become self-evident to you at some point later in life, when your taste buds are bored with sugar and ham and they crave something that reminds them of Mother Earth. Plus, enjoying broccoli gives you permission to eat a sandwich and feel fine about it, because if you went to a dietician and they asked what one food you think you eat the most and you said “broccoli,” they’d just back up and go “hey man, do whatever you want, I’m out.”

In case it hasn’t been made clear, the primary reasons I eat the Broccoli Breakfast Sandwich are:

It’s tasty;
It makes me feel good.

By now, you should be sitting there going, “alright, alright, give me the damn recipe already.” Here it comes!

Broccoli Breakfast Sandwich

Neven Mrgan’s daily version which differs from Tyler Kord’s version in ways I can’t remember right now

1 head of broccoli
1 slice of cheese (cheddar, sharp cheddar, whatever you like)
1 egg (buy the good eggs for frying, live a little)
1 English muffin, split
mayo (preferably Japanese kewpie brand)
ketchup (optional)
butter, oil, salt, pepper

At some point during the week, roast your broccoli: break/cut it into bite-sized florets, toss with a bit of oil, place on a foil-lined sheet pan, and roast at 450º for about 15 minutes, flipping once if you’re in the kitchen at the time. Let it cool and store it in the fridge for the week. This makes like 4-6 sandwiches. (If you don’t want to pre-roast your broccoli, prep it any other way you like: steam it, boil it, microwave it, whatever gets it to like 80% cooked. But remember that roasting vegetables is the best thing in the world.)
Butter one half of your muffin; put your cheese slice on the other half (folding the cheese corners in like you live on Battlestar Galactica.) Place the halves on a foil-lined sheet pan next to one sandwich’s worth of broccoli. Pop it all about 6″ under your broiler and let it go for 2-3 minutes; you want to see melted cheese, warm broccoli, and a browned muffin half; nothing darker than that. Salt the broccoli when done.
Meanwhile, heat a drop of oil in a teeny little egg pan just big enough for one egg. Crack the egg in and gently pop the yolk, maybe. Hit it with salt and pepper. Let it go for a minute, then deftly flip it with a little spatula; turn off the heat pretty much immediately and you’re done with it. (Since you probably don’t own a one-egg pan yet, you can also fry or scramble the egg any other way you normally do until your cute new pan arrives from Amazon.)
Arrange your broccoli on top of the melted-cheese muffin half, then top with the egg. Spread mayo and/or ketchup on the buttered + toasted muffin half. Combine the two halves and hum a triumphant fanfare tune. You’ve done it. You’ve made the Broccoli Breakfast Sandwich.

I should mention at this point that Tyler Kord’s original sandwich calls for deep-fried broccoli, but I’m not going to deep-fry anything in the morning since I’m not a restaurant. His sandwich is almost certainly even better; try it and let me know!

Which reminds me: I don’t always make the same exact broccoli sandwich. Depending on what’s in the fridge and how sassy I’m feeling, I might drop the ketchup or sub it with hot sauce; I might toast the whole thing in the manner of a grilled-cheese sandwich; I’ve been known to use black bean purée instead of cheese, for a Mexican torta vibe. The English muffin might take the morning off and have its role played by a fluffy burger bun. I used to scramble the eggs, but now I do more of an over-easy thing. All of this tastes good. Life is a journey.

You can also make a Broccoli Burger—if anyone fights you on it, have them call me and I’ll get them to apologize to you. Like, this one here has Russian-ish dressing of mayo, mustard, ketchup, diced pickle, and miso; then there’s diced onions, pickles; roasted broccoli finished in a hot pan with butter; cheddar, caramelized onions (the heavy hitter here), February Tomato™, and a bit more sauce. It’s all on a Franz Bakery burger bun, toasted of course. Does it taste like a beef burger? No. Ground beef doesn’t taste like roasted broccoli either, and it’s beef’s loss. Would I order this if places offered it? Definitely. (But they won’t.)

I didn’t want to junk up the recipe above any more by saying this when it first came up, but pre-roasting vegetables is such a smart move. You’re essentially committing to basing your weeknight dinners around practically-ready vegetables in the fridge, rather than around cold cuts or bread+cheese. So, pick up some broccoli, broccolini, cauliflower, eggplant, or sweet potatoes at the store; bring them home and send them on a hands-off journey in your oven until they’re soft and tasty—but not yet mushy!—and you’ll be the proud owner of such a good filling for sandwiches, burritos, frittatas, rice bowls, or even those fancy plates where you schmear on some tahini or whatever in the manner of a Japanese calligrapher, then top it with your veg.

Your parents will be so proud of you. That friend of yours who exercises every day and eats salad for lunch will smile warmly. You’ll be a broccoli person.

Like me.

Killer X

2017-11-07T00:00:00Z

I was reading a book in my living room on a stormy night when a knock at the door interrupted me. It wasn’t entirely unexpected, however, and when I opened the door, I wasn’t all that surprised to see the rain-drenched figure of Detective Hyller standing at my doorstep with an apologetic smile on her face.

“Mr. M—, I’m sorry to show up unannounced like this…”

I motioned her out of the pouring rain and into my house, waving off her apology.

“No matter. I know you’re just doing your job. We all want to find the man who killed my brother, after all. You’re working late, aren’t you?”

“Ah, well, when I have a feeling about a case, I have to act on it, no matter the time,” she said, rubbing her hands to warm them up.

“You have more questions for me, I presume? I’m afraid I’ve told you all I know.”

“Yes, of course,” she said. “Actually… I’m here about something different tonight. I’ve been working on a theory, and I wanted to get your feedback on it.”

“Anything I can do to help,” I said. I pointed to the sofa, and Detective Hyller sat on it with a small nod. “Would you like some tea? You look like you could use a warming drink.”

“Ah, thank you. Tea would be lovely.”

I excused myself to the kitchen where I made the tea and brought it out on a tray. I put the tray on the coffee table between the sofa and the reading chair. I sat back in the chair, moving my book out of the way. The detective took a sip of tea and nodded her thanks again. After a minute of awkward silence, I said, “You mentioned you had a theory about my brother’s murder?”

“Right, yes,” she said. “It’s just a vague sketch so far, but I think it has promise. Let me go over the facts of that night first. Now, as we know, your brother was struck in the head with a dull, strong, metallic object. Particles of shiny, chrome-like metal were found in his skull…” she stopped for a moment. “Am I bringing up too many disturbing details?”

I shrugged. “I’ve heard these gross depictions a dozen times now. It’s been a long week, and the shock has worn off, I assure you. Please go on—I’m curious to hear your new theory.”

“Right. The lab seemed confident that the weapon in question was a smartphone. About five and a half inches long, a third of an inch thick, with generously rounded corners. In other words, an iPhone.”

I nodded my agreement.

“A chrome iPhone, because of those shiny particles,” she continued. “So, unless the killer used an iPhone 3G, or an original iPhone”—she chuckled—“the likeliest weapon is the new iPhone X, in a ‘silver’ finish. Now, here’s another interesting point. We didn’t find a single fingerprint in your brother’s apartment, except his own prints. That, combined with the cold weather we’ve been having lately, has led us to conclude that the killer wore gloves. After all, this was a premeditated murder, and bringing gloves is the simplest precaution a well-prepared killer could take.”

“Yes,” I said. “That makes sense. And let me guess—you think that if the killer wore gloves, he couldn’t use the phone’s Home button to unlock it…”

“Precisely!” the detective said. “Oh, he could have taken off the gloves or typed in his passcode, but that would have taken up too much of his time in this crucial moment. Now, with iPhone X and its Face ID feature, there would have been no need to take off the gloves.”

“I see. But explain this to me: why unlock the phone at all? If the phone was used as a blunt weapon, why did the screen have to be on? A locked iPhone X makes just as good a weapon… I’d imagine so, anyway.”

“Ah, yes. That bothered everyone else at the station when I first told them my theory. But I remembered something about your brother: he was an artist, isn’t that right?”

“He painted. He made murals, he illustrated books, and so on,” I said.

“And he designed magazines as well?”

“Yes.”

“He had an aesthetic sense, then. A sense of proportion, symmetry, visual order. Now, on top of that, he was in good shape—strong and fit. I tried imagining how it was that the attacker could strike a healthy, strong man in the forehead, from the front, without any effort—no struggle, no attempt to bat the weapon away. And my guess is… It was the ‘notch.’”

I smiled. “Yes, I can see what you’re thinking. The attacker unlocks his phone and turns it around so its screen faces my brother. My brother sees the “notch”—the strangely protruding sensor housing at the top of the screen—and he is so befuddled by its odd appearance…”

“…That he doesn’t even notice the phone is about to strike him in the head. Yes. This is precisely why I wanted to bring my theory here tonight, you see. I knew you’d agree with me about your brother’s aesthetic sensibility.”

“It makes sense,” I agreed. Detective Hyller refilled her tea cup. She reached into her purse and pulled out a photo print.

“Now, I have here something we haven’t shared with the public yet… or with you. But since we seem to be getting closer to the solution, I reasoned I could show it to you now. It’s a photo of your brother. Do you think you’d be up for seeing it? It may be upsetting.”

“Like I said, we’ve gone over the murder so many times in the last few days. It hardly affects me at all anymore. I just want to get it over with. I’ll be ok—let me see it.”

The detective turned the photo toward me. It was a black and white picture of my brother’s face, surprised and somewhat disgusted. The entire background was black, fading softly into my brother’s hair and beard and shoulders. He looked like a lost soul, floating in eternal darkness, confused about where he was and how he got there.

“This photo was sent to us the day after the murder, you see. A cruel joke; the killer’s way of mocking us, I think. Unfortunately, all the EXIF metadata—information the camera usually saves with the photo, containing the location, the date, and so on—has been removed. It was sent from a throwaway email account, and we’ve had no luck tracking it down. The killer took great pains to ensure that we didn’t get anything out of this photo except what’s in it—your brother’s face the moment before he died.”

I looked down at the photo. My brother, frozen in time. The furrowed brow, the annoyed look, the picture’s dramatic lack of color.

“But of course, we can tell a little more from this,” Hyller said. “For instance, we know the photograph was taken with an iPhone X.”

“You said the metadata has been wiped—so how can you…” I trailed off. “Ah, I see now. Portrait Mode.”

She smiled and nodded. “Yes. Portrait Mode, with the Stage Light Mono effect. Available only on iPhone X. Now, I know what you’re thinking—isn’t it available on iPhone 8 as well? It’s true; but on iPhone X, the feature works with the front-facing camera. This means the killer was able to use it right after he had stunned the victim by showing him the screen ‘notch’ on the front.”

I handed the photo back. “That’s a remarkable theory. You’ve worked out quite a bit about the murder from very little information.”

The detective smiled. “That’s my job, I suppose. The fun part of it, anyway. Other parts of it are… not so fun.” She put the photo back in her purse, closed the purse, and set her tea cup down.

“Now,” she said, “the iPhone X has been in very short supply. Quite hard to get. It’s unlikely that a random stranger would have one this quickly. Isn’t that right?”

I frowned and nodded.

“And we know from your blog that you’re an Apple enthusiast and an early adopter of popular ‘gadgets,’ aren’t you? Just the person to have an iPhone X within a few days of the launch.”

I snorted at this. Detective Hyller went on, leaning in as she spoke.

“In fact, I’m certain you have one. Which leads me to conclude that the likeliest culprit in your brother’s murder is… you.”

I sipped my tea without saying anything. Her eyes showed a triumphant hunger, like a tiger who had cornered its prey.

“I imagine you were planning this heinous act since the iPhone X was announced in September. Its features were widely advertised, which let you figure out exactly how you were going to use each one of them to pull off the murder. Face ID… Portrait Mode… the ‘notch’…”

Now it was my time to smile.

“Well, what can I say. You got me. It all fits! I killed my brother—I blinded him with the distracting appearance of the front-screen sensor housing; I used Portrait Mode to take his last photo just so I could rub it in the face of the police; I wore gloves but I was able to unlock my phone quickly anyway. A brilliant theory. Like I said, all the pieces fit. Except… Well, except for one thing.”

Detective Hyller put down her tea and leaned in.

“And what might that be?”

I quickly reached into the front pocket of my pants. I saw the detective’s eyes dart to my hand for a second, but she relaxed when she realized that I was only holding a smartphone. However, her eyes grew large and filled with shock after I placed the phone on the coffee table between us.

“You see, I don’t have an iPhone X,” I calmly said. “I have an iPhone 7 Plus. Space Gray, not Silver.”

Hyller jumped up from the sofa, spilling her tea on the sofa, the coffee table, and the rug.

“But that’s impossible!”

“Is it?” Now it was my turn to cherish my moment of bitter victory. “You are welcome to check my T-Mobile account and my order history with Apple. Go through my iCloud logs, see if an iPhone X has ever used it! I do not now, nor have I ever, had an iPhone X, of any color or storage size.”

The detective jumped up and paced the small room like a trapped animal, swinging her purse around as she talked.

“How can that be? You’ve owned every model of iPhone released since 2007. You’ve waited in line for them; you’ve woken up in the middle of the night to order them. We were sure that you’d have the iPhone X the day it was released!”

“So was I,” I barked back. “Do you think I didn’t want to get an iPhone X? Here, look at this,” I said. I picked up my iPhone and launched the Apple Store app. Tapping on the Account tab, I pulled up my latest order. “Delivers 08 Dec, 2017. More than a month from today. You see, due to issues with T-Mobile’s upgrade process, I wasn’t able to order the iPhone X until a week after pre-orders had started. By then, shipping estimates had slipped—four weeks, six weeks, eight weeks! So, unless I waited to get the iPhone X in December and then traveled back in time with it, how could I have used it to murder anyone? I don’t have it yet.”

Detective Hyller collapsed onto the sofa with a defeated look.

“We’ve wasted days of work trying to prove this iPhone X theory. Do you realize what this means? The investigation is back to square one now!”

I shook my head and sipped my tea.

“How can you be so calm about it?” she asked. “Don’t you want to help us find the real killer?”

I sighed. “Help? This is you asking for help? Let me tell you something. You think your situation is bad because you have to start your murder investigation from scratch. But put yourself in my shoes: my brother has been brutally murdered. I’m the key suspect, and I’ve had detectives coming here and asking me intrusive questions for days on end. Worst of all, I don’t yet have an iPhone X.” I grabbed my phone and threw it at the front door in anger. “You want me to feel sorry for you?” I yelled. “You don’t know what sorrow is, Detective. Now get the hell out of my house.”

Detective Hyller got up slowly and walked to the door. She stepped out onto the porch and closed the door halfway, then paused and turned around.

“Look, I…” She reached for her purse and dug around in it. “I’m sorry. I don’t normally do this, but I’d feel better if… Well, I know this doesn’t make up for the loss of your brother, but…”

Standing in the rain, she held out her phone toward me. A brand new iPhone X. Silver, 64 GB, T-Mobile. Raindrops fell on its water-resistant, all-screen front, beading on it like pearls torn from a necklace. Somehow, an overworked cop had been able to grab a new iPhone X, while my order was sitting in a faraway warehouse somewhere, weeks away from arriving at my doorstep. There was truly no justice in this lonely world.

“Good night, Detective Hyller,” I said, and I closed the door.

Out Line

2017-04-03T00:00:00Z

I made a short, experimental interactive-fiction game. You can play it in your browser in a matter of minutes.

I’ve toyed around with games/stories written in Twine for a while, but it’s been easy to bite off way more than I can chew. To actually finish a Twine project, I fished out this old idea. It’s based on a notion that has occurred to me regarding zen koans: often, they end in a way that declares the master or the student or another student the “winner” of the argument merely by giving them the last line. This happens in movies and TV shows as well, since they’re so dependent on cuts: if someone delivers a sharp line and we cut away, the feeling is that they’ve been victorious in the scene. In real life, it doesn’t really work out that way—the other person likely has a comeback, and arguments tend to simmer and bubble and eventually cool off.

Hope you like it!

Stagehand

2017-02-08T00:00:00Z

It’s called Stagehand. It’s the new game from Big Bucket—my main man Matt Comi and yours truly, the intercontinental couple who brought you The Incident. It’s something we call a reverse platformer: a run’n’jump game where you control everything BUT the protagonist. It’s out today.

The idea for Stagehand was formed back at XOXO 2012, a conference where we were demoing our then-unreleased game Space Age. Five years later, we actually made our idea—how often does THAT happen, am I right? Stagehand is a spiritual successor to The Incident; you’ll notice some familiar faces are back. It’s a fast, think-on-your feet game.

We were able to blackmail/strongarm our pal Cabel Sasser into doing the music for the game yet again, and the result is… well, you have to hear it to believe it. Cabel, we truly love you.

Go play Stagehand on your iPhone/iPad/Apple Watch if you’ve hacked it like I’ve seen people do on YouTube. Click to download. Swipe on.

Uniquely Texan Expressions

2017-01-09T00:00:00Z

Ah, Texas—the Big Sky state! Home of barbecue, the Texas Cowboys, and Austin, TX. The only thing hotter than its always-sunny weather are the homespun idioms and phrases deployed in everyday conversation by its lovable, rascally residents. Here are some of the Golden State’s most colorful sayings that wouldn’t make a local Texasian “chicken-dance in dungarees” (be impressed or affected) but may leave a city slicker “scratchin’ their hat” (head).

“What’s the matter, someone put beans in your chili? See, real Texas chili doesn’t contain beans.”
“He’s half a sixpack short, meaning he has only three of the typical six items in a sixpack, because 2 × 3 = 6.”
“Eat my shorts.”
“He’s drunker than a badger stuck in a barrel! In my opinion, it’s unfair to place the blame solely on the badger! Not to mention counterproductive! Alcoholism is a disease, not a moral failing!”
“Hi, I’m from Texas.”
“Please don’t leave your bags unattended, and report any suspicious bags. Dallas/Ft Worth International Airport thanks you for your cooperation.”
“She’s a tall drink of how-do-you-do… guv'na.”
“You’re as sore as a rattlesnake with chronic obesity.”
“Dance like no one’s watching, own guns like no one’s doing comprehensive background checks.”
““She’ll be apples” is Australian slang for “it’ll work out alright”!”
“He’s all hat and no cattle! Now, about the chili again. Real Texas chili doesn’t cont

Have You Tried Sketch

2016-09-06T00:00:00Z

I wrote a book!! It’s a heart-rending memoir of my challenging childhood and poignant blossoming into a young man… NOT. Actually, it’s a book of sketch comedy; twenty-five sketches, hot and ready to make you guffaw all through your Lyft ride. It’s like watching SNL or Broad City or Key & Peele, except you get to do all the voices. Can’t beat it.

Here’s the cover:

There’s also a neat little website you can send to your friends when they ask you WHAT on earth you’re laughing about that’s not a meme video. Or, if you’re ready to pull the trigger, here’s the good stuff:

Have You Tried Sketch on iBooks

Have You Tried Sketch on Kindle

I know you’re going to like it. I’m not just saying that; here you are, willingly spending your time reading my blog. We’re on the same wavelength, you and I. *wink* Now go get ‘em, tiger.

Thanks!!

Elmore Leonard’s Ten Rules for Writing A Good Yelp Review

2016-08-23T00:00:00Z

1. Never open a review with weather. Or the occasion of your dinner. Or anything about your date. We don’t care.

2. Avoid prologues. Don’t explain why you’ve decided to write a review, or what kind of day you were having, or whether you normally like kimchi or not.

3. Never use a verb other than “ate” to describe food entering your mouth and being predigested in it.

4. Never use an adverb to modify how the server took your order or how she put the water on the table or how she reacted when you asked for Splenda. We don’t believe you.

5. Keep your “yum” points under control. You are allowed no more than two or three “yums” per 100,000 words of Yelp review.

6. Never use the words “parking” or “food poisoning.”

7. Use references to the two weeks you vacationed in Thailand and to your Mexican abuelita sparingly.

8. Avoid detailed photos of characters. It will not help us decide whether to dine at this establishment if we see a “goofy” photo of your bestie Jason holding up a beer stein.

9. Don’t go into great detail describing places and things that are not the food that you ate or the restaurant at which you ate it. Really, just don’t, why would you.

10. Try to leave out the part that users tend to want to flag as stupid and useless.

My most important rule is one that sums up the 10.

If you sound like a dipshit, rewrite it.

(See Elmore’s original Rules.)

The Seventh Reservoir Dog

2016-08-22T00:00:00Z

Did you notice me? To the right of Mr. Blonde? You can juuuust see my left foot between his legs. That’s the story of my life: always cropped out of the picture. But hey, I’m not complaining.

See, for a while there I was the Seventh Dog. The fellas needed a backup getaway driver, Joe knew me from back in the day, and I couldn’t say no to that big, lovable lug. To tell you the truth, I wasn’t in it for the money—I just liked being part of the crew. They were all super cool. Just look at them! For a dork like me to get to ride around in 1970s cars with these guys, chit-chat in raunchy language about pop culture over breakfast, get briefed on capers in an abandoned warehouse? It was a dream come true.

But, here’s what I get for being the nerd of the bunch: the day of the robbery, I’m sitting there greasing my hair and ironing my white shirt, when Nice Guy Eddie phones me up. He says, “Mr. Teal, you should probably stay at home today. You might be coming down with a cold.” And just like that, I was left out of the whole thing. I’d be lying if I said it didn’t hurt me when he said it. I tried to keep myself busy that day, but the whole time, I kept thinking about what fun the Dogs were having with their jewel heist. I guess you could say I was “blue” with sadness and “green” with jealousy, haha!

Of course, when I heard what had happened to the boys, I felt more lucky than envious. That could have been me bleeding to death on the dirty floor of an abandoned warehouse! Talk about a wake-up call. I took a long, hard look at my life and realized that being “cool” wasn’t worth it. I would accept and embrace the softer side of my personality, the side I always tried to hide when I rolled around with the posse. I drove to Goodwill and dropped off my fitted black suit, my pencil tie, my plastic sunglasses. I stopped listening to K-Billy radio. I went back to school and got my degree—heck, I even went for a PhD.

Twenty-five years later, how do I feel about my decision? Well, I may not be some extremely hip gangster type, spouting zippy one-liners over the barrel of a 9 mm gun pointed at an undercover police officer in an abandoned warehouse. But I’m a working professional now, I run a successful small business, and we’re starting to branch out into national distribution. In a way, you could say I’ve pulled off the ultimate caper—successfully, too! And while I never got to burst into a jewelry store, yelling for everyone to get the fuck down on the floor and not move a muscle or else, while I never got to participate in a Mexican standoff, or torture a captured cop tied to a chair in an abandoned warehouse, I guess that in my own, small way, I still consider myself one of the Dogs. The quiet one, the thoughtful one. That’s me,

Uncollected

2016-07-11T00:00:00Z

I grew up in a small and fairly underdeveloped town; a poor town, let’s say. While I never felt that I lacked for anything in my childhood, I’d get occasional reminders of objective misfortune around me. Children who considered meat—any kind of meat—a delicacy, not for reasons of dietary restriction, but because it was costly. A fifth-grade classmate I spotted digging through a dumpster, and assumed he was doing it for fun, and walked away from briskly when his dad emerged from the dumpster as well, having proudly fished some food out of it.

Not the most depressing display of this was the way kids cherished the rare and special goods they were given. I say not depressing, because it’s a bit silly when you think about it; but it’s heartbreaking as well. What I mean is, if a child was gifted a soccer ball or a basketball, they would gleefully show it off, display it in their room, bring it out to the yard for other kids to ooh and aah over. But they would be hesitant to… play with it. It was new and unblemished and it had cost a lot of money. In a country where soccer was the default pastime for all children and most adults, a new soccer ball went unkicked, because it was precious. This annoyed me then and it just slays me now.

It may have also resulted in a personality quirk I’ve noticed in myself: I have absolutely no “collector” mentality at all. I wince at the the idea of collecting new-in-box products, amassed simply because they exist and not for the purpose of using them. Toys that stay in their packaging. Limited-edition shirts that don’t get worn or washed, limited-edition notebooks ones certainly does not write in. (I immediately hand my special Field Notes books to our kids so they can doodle all over them.) Even LEGO sets that get built according to instructions and never end up sharing the big brick box with other sets—though those got “played” with one time, at least.

Now, I don’t believe there is anything inherently wrong with collecting things; “wrong” meaning morally objectionable, or even ill-advised. YOU probably collect something, and that’s fine. I’m writing this not to judge you or change your mind—what would the point of that be, anyway—but to dig through my own head a bit. I started this post with a sad image, and I’ll have to include one more of those before I wrap this up.

I grew up in a small town in a war-torn country. One day, war came to town, and we had to flee—my family left behind the house my grandfather built, and we crossed the river to the safer town on the other side carrying what we could in a few plastic bags. From there on, those were our belongings. That was our collection. We started from scratch that day. Then we did it again when the Mrgans moved to the United States in 1999, carrying a few suitcases this time. I moved once more in 2007, from Florida to Oregon, carrying very little again; by this time, there was no pressing need to reduce my belongings, but there was an instinct, honed by these previous experiences, I’m sure.

There’s a sappy, hipster reading of all this, as if I’m saying “live in the moment” or something. I promise I’m not that precious about it. I’m as materialistic as anyone living in the US in the 2010s—I love products, items, packaging, stores. I excitedly buy things to make myself (and others) happy. I enjoy these things, in their boxes and out of them. Maybe what stops me from getting too attached to them is not spiritualism but something like zen nihilism, a cheerful fear that nothing lasts, and that you have few chances to play with it while it’s around. Maybe this is why I can’t have nice things.