I broke a pizza rule. First it was mixing garlic cloves with pineapples. Now this…
Before anyone inboxes, no I’m fine. There’s no “hidden cravings” or weirdness going on here (well nothing that’s not the norm), nor have I gone off at the wheel. I am clearly having a mild sense of adventure in my recipes.
See, “what had happened was” is that I had intent on making homemade white sauce for my latest spinach pizza. I remembered the flour, but forgot the milk for a bechamel base. Apparently there’s something called a “white blanche” which uses flour and water but the idea didn’t call out to me.
I remembered to buy a jar of Duke’s mayo though, a staple of southern households. Which was a total fail move on my part, as I bought no bread, or anything to use with it.
Call it a morbid curiosity, or a temporary lack of judgement, but I googled “mayo pizza sauce”. Much to my surprise, this is a thing.
Now what happens next, is sheer madness, but I assure you one that repulsed yet fascinated me at the same time. I quickly lathered up my pre-made dough in the mayo stuff and topped it with spinach and pepperjack cheese. Added some garlic salt (and creole seasoning – I put that stuff on everything!) and popped it into the oven.
I will admit I had expected my first bite to be one of disappointment, and assumed I would end up tossing the thing.
What I did not expect is that I would enjoy it.
I wish I had photos to share with you. But I devoured my monstrosity with delight.
So it’s a day afterwards, and I’m still dreaming of the mayo monster slathered on pizza.
Would I give up white cream sauce on pizza forever for it? Heck no. But I would try it again as a substitute should I forget milk next go around.
Have you tried mayo pizza? What’s your thoughts?