Crushed cracker crust coup

There’s a giant tin of wheat crackers sitting forlorn in the kitchen. Ma had bought it per my father’s request, but then he had pronounced that it was not the kind he had asked for. “Well?” I said. “It is the right brand, is it not?”

“Yes,” he replied, “but it doesn’t taste like the one I’m used to.” Which did not really surprise me; Pa has very definite ideas about how food should taste and he rarely makes room for any deviation from that. At his age, I sometimes ask myself if he even remembers with certainty what that is. It doesn’t matter; he stands by his pronouncements like white on rice, and that is why I fry shrimps to the point of stick-in-my-windpipe desiccation, because what’s the point of insisting on doing it my way if he’s not going to eat it? I might as well ask him to do the cooking himself, which in theory is a boon to me (since he’s not above doing so), except it’s not worth cleaning up the mess he leaves in his wake.

As for those crackers, they popped up on Chopped the other night. If you are not familiar with the show, that’s where competing chefs make a dish from a given basket of ingredients. For starters (appetizer course) on this particular episode, the basket contained said crackers, smelt, kaffir lime leaves, and purple cabbage — very conventional by the show’s standards, and precisely the reason why it interested me. Long story short, it gave me the idea to substitute crushed wheat crackers for some of the flour in my pizza dough.

This time I didn’t even have to worry about Pa. He’s not big on pizza. And if the dough didn’t pan out, no problem: just crackers, flour, and an hour or so of my life wasted (I had decided to improvise on lavash, the traditional Armenian/Iranian flatbread). I halved the flour and yeast. Working by feel, I ended up using less water than I do with an all-flour lavash (with minimal kneading to discourage gluten development).

The result? An insanely crispy crust that nevertheless stood up well under the weight of the toppings (leftover chicken satay, onion, cherry tomatoes, green bell pepper, and kesong puti on a base of mashed roasted garlic and olive oil). If you’re the type who goes for crispy crust, this is something you must try, non-traditional it may be pizza-wise, but who cares? (The wheat even gave the crust an appealingly brown color you could not obtain with AP flour — although it must be noted that lavash is traditionally made with wheat flour.) As the Italians say, pizza is about the bread, not what goes on top of it.

Or, if you ask me, in it. Maybe I should get my father to try the pizza next time, see how he likes those wheat crackers then (I’m gloating, I know). Until that time, the tin sits lonely in its corner.

Wheat (Cracker) Lavash

This is a modified version of the recipe found here. You may not need the full amount of water as stated. For toppings, go with what you like, but remember that the dough cooks/bakes fast, so you may need to sauté some ingredients (like onion and mushroom) beforehand.

• 1 cup all-purpose flour
• 1 cup crushed wheat crackers
• ½ teaspoon active dry yeast
• 1½ cups lukewarm (105-110°F) water
• 1 teaspoon salt
• 1 tablespoon sugar


• 2 tablespoons oil
• more flour, for dusting

1. In a bowl, combine flour, crushed wheat crackers, yeast, salt, and sugar.
2. Make a well in the center. Pour in half of the water and mix or work it in with your hands. Gradually add more water (you may not need to use the full amount) until you form a rough dough. Do not overwork the dough — soft and lumpy is okay.
3. Form the dough into a ball, coat with oil, and return to your bowl. Cover bowl with clear plastic wrap or a damp towel (or both) and leave to rest in a dry warm place for at least 1 hour, or until dough has doubled in size.
4. Punch dough with your fist to deflate, cover again, and wait 10 minutes. Meanwhile, get some parchment paper, trace the form of your baking pan or sheet (with a few inches’ allowance on all sides), and cut. Place paper on a clean flat surface and generously dust with flour.
5. Take enough dough to make your crust, dust with flour, and position it in the center of the parchment paper. With a rolling pin, roll dough outwards to a few inches short of the edge(s) of the paper until uniformly thin. Roll in one direction only, i.e., when you reach the edge, do not roll the pin back. If you need to roll the dough further in the same direction, simply go back to your starting position and roll again.
6. Heat baking pan or sheet until smoking, then brush/blow off any excess flour from the dough. Lift the parchment paper and place on the pan/sheet dough-side down. Remove paper.
7. Allow the dough to puff up, then check the underside for brown (burnt) spots before turning over. At this juncture you can add toppings. You can leave the pan/sheet on the stove-top until cheese melts (2 to 3 minutes), or stick it under a preheated oven grill. Serve immediately.