Pizza Margherita

My Pizza Margherita Era (a.k.a. the Pizza That Made Me Feel Italian for 10 Minutes)

Girl.
You know those moments when you just want real food? Like not delivery, not frozen, not “meh”—but something simple, cozy, and lowkey romantic?
That’s Pizza Margherita for me.

Crispy crust, juicy tomatoes, melty mozzarella, fresh basil doing her thing… nothing fancy, nothing extra, but somehow it hits every single time.
The first time I made it at home, I honestly thought, “Why have I been ordering pizza my whole life when I could be living like this?”

This pizza is proof that simple ingredients + a little love = straight-up magic. And don’t worry, babe—no pizza stone snobbery or Italian nonna yelling at you. We’re doing this the Maria way: chill, forgiving, and very snack-friendly.

Why I’ll Always Come Back to Pizza Margherita

Listen, I love a loaded pizza moment. I love toppings. I love drama.
But Pizza Margherita? She’s that girl.

It’s the pizza you make when:

• you want comfort but not chaos
• you wanna impress someone without stressing
• you’re craving something fresh but still cheesy
• or you just wanna feel like a kitchen goddess on a random Tuesday

It’s light but satisfying, simple but flavorful, and somehow feels fancy even though it’s literally dough, tomatoes, cheese, and herbs.
Italian minimalism, babe. And honestly? A vibe.

What You’ll Need (Nothing Weird, I Promise)

Alright bestie, here’s the chill shopping list. No stress, no mystery ingredients.

For the dough (homemade but easy):

• 2 ½ cups all-purpose flour
• 1 teaspoon salt
• 1 teaspoon sugar
• 1 packet instant yeast (about 2 ¼ teaspoons)
• ¾ cup warm water (not hot—think cozy bath temp)
• 2 tablespoons olive oil

For the topping:

• ½ cup crushed tomatoes or tomato sauce (simple, no sugar added)
• 1–2 cloves garlic, minced (optional but… not really optional)
• Salt & black pepper
• Olive oil
• 8 oz fresh mozzarella, sliced or torn
• Fresh basil leaves

Maria’s real-life tip:
If your mozzarella is super watery, pat it dry with paper towels. I skipped this once and ended up with pizza soup. We learn. We grow.

Let’s Make This Pizza (No Panic Allowed)

1. Dough first, babe

In a big bowl, mix the flour, salt, sugar, and yeast. Add the warm water and olive oil, then mix till it comes together into a shaggy dough.

Turn it onto the counter and knead for about 8–10 minutes.
Yes, it’s a workout. Yes, you deserve snacks later.

You want it smooth, soft, and slightly springy. If it’s sticky, sprinkle a little flour—but don’t go wild. We want soft dough, not a brick.

Place it in an oiled bowl, cover it, and let it rise somewhere warm for about an hour, or until doubled in size.
Go scroll. Go clean nothing. Go live your life.

2. Sauce = simple queen energy

In a small bowl, mix the crushed tomatoes, garlic, a pinch of salt, black pepper, and a drizzle of olive oil.

That’s it.
No cooking. No sugar. No 17 spices fighting each other. This sauce is fresh, bright, and chill—just like we’re trying to be.

Taste it. Adjust. Trust your tongue.

3. Stretch, don’t fight

Preheat your oven to 475°F (245°C). Hot oven = happy pizza.

Punch down the dough (very satisfying), then stretch it gently into a circle.
No rolling pin unless you absolutely must. We want air in the crust—she deserves to puff.

If it’s not a perfect circle, congratulations, you made it authentic.

Place it on a baking sheet or parchment paper. Drizzle lightly with olive oil.

4. Top it like you mean it

Spread a thin layer of sauce over the dough. Thin, babe. This isn’t soup night.

Add the mozzarella—scatter it, don’t smother it. We want pockets of cheese, not a blanket situation.

Finish with a tiny drizzle of olive oil and a pinch of salt.

Basil comes after baking. Trust me.

5. Bake till bubbly and gorgeous

Slide that beauty into the oven and bake for 10–14 minutes, depending on your oven.

You’re looking for:

• golden crust
• bubbling cheese
• little charred spots that scream “restaurant energy”

If your oven has a hot spot, rotate the pan halfway through. No one likes uneven tanning.

6. The finishing glow-up

Once it’s out, immediately add fresh basil leaves. They’ll wilt just enough and smell unreal.

Let the pizza rest for 2–3 minutes.
I know. It’s hard. But molten cheese burns are not cute.

Slice. Serve. Admire your work like the legend you are.

Maria’s Pizza Truths (Learn From My Mistakes)

Less sauce is more
I drowned one once thinking “more flavor.” Nope. Soggy sadness. Keep it light.

Hot oven = non-negotiable
A weak oven gives sad pizza. Crank that heat.

Fresh mozzarella hits different
Pre-shredded works in emergencies, but fresh mozzarella? Babe. Night and day.

Basil last, always
I baked it once. It turned bitter and sad. We don’t do that anymore.

Olive oil matters
Use the good stuff if you can. You’ll taste it, promise.

Pizza Margherita FAQ (Because We’ve All Been There)

Can I use store-bought dough?
Absolutely. No shame. I do it when life is lifing.

Can I make it ahead?
Dough? Yes. Pizza fully baked? Better fresh. Reheated pizza is good, but fresh pizza is a love language.

Why is my crust not crispy?
Oven probably wasn’t hot enough—or too much sauce. Both are fixable.

Can I add toppings?
Of course. But then she’s not a Margherita anymore—and that’s okay. Live your truth.

Can I grill it?
Yes, and it’s amazing. But that’s a whole other adventure.

You Just Made Real Pizza, Babe

Look at you.
Homemade Pizza Margherita. Crispy crust, melty cheese, fresh basil vibes. That’s not just dinner—that’s a moment.

Whether you’re eating it straight off the pan, sharing it with people you love, or standing at the counter taking “just one more bite,” I hope this pizza made your day a little better.

Stick around, okay?
We’re cooking cozy food, making a mess, laughing through it, and feeding our souls—one recipe at a time.

Messy counters, happy hearts, and very full plates.
That’s always the vibe here.

Big hugs and cheesy bites,
Maria