Depth begets depth

And 11 other lessons from my year of pizza

When I dropped off the box of individually-wrapped, homemade New York cheese danishes, it marked my ninth (and final) stint as a hospice volunteer baker—and I wasn’t quite sure how I felt about that number.

Sure, I’d baked cookies for the staff during National Hospice and Palliative Care Month, morning buns for patients’ family members, and lots of treats in between. But my ever-present, perfectionistic inner critic kept pointing out the truncated length of my commitment—because when I started this volunteer gig, I didn’t know that big moves were looming on my horizon.

Did the temporary nature of my efforts make them any less meaningful?

I got my answer when I ran into a nurse in the community kitchen during that final dropoff. As she plucked a danish from the box, she spoke glowingly and in no uncertain terms about how the staff and families had felt about each pastry drop.

Turns out, focusing on the impact of my commitment—rather than how perfectly it was executed—was a foolproof way to silence my inner critic.

So as I reflect on the unexpectedly early end to my Depth Year project, I’ve decided to measure that effort not by what I didn’t accomplish, but what I created and shared along the way.

In honor of the twelve recipe pairings I made from

Alexandra Stafford

’s Pizza Night, here are twelve lessons I learned from my Depth Year!

Lesson #1: I can’t improve what I haven’t started.

Such a foundational lesson that I wrote an entire newsletter on the subject!

I’ll always be the kind of person that wades thoughtfully into new pursuits, but there’s no point in letting thoughtfulness become “research as procrastination.” When it came to making fancy homemade pizzas and salads (and learning to shoot and edit each accompanying video), the way I learned and grew wasn’t through anticipating growth opportunities, but by stumbling headlong through them.

🎬 Week 1: Salami and Red Onion Pizza with Calabrian Chiles and Hot Honey

Lesson #2: Yes, I can film and edit videos!

I started a YouTube channel to document this project, but I had no clue where to begin: which camera and settings to choose, which microphones were compatible with my setup, which editing program had the gentlest learning curve, or how to go live with the finished product.

I won’t lie: learning was painful, but so worth it—for me, but hopefully for you too. That’s because I’ll be taking my newfound knowledge to Paris, where I plan on supplementing my writing with short video updates about the experience!

🎬 Week 2: Classic Margherita Pizza

Lesson #3: I’m not nearly as awkward onscreen as I thought.

Thought let’s be real: at the beginning, I certainly was! (In my first week, I had no clue what to do with my hands while talking.) But with practice, I learned that the right script structure and editing techniques made it way easier for this self-described “behind-the-camera” person to get comfortable showing up on camera, too.

🎬 Week 3: Grandma Pizza with Broccoli Rabe and Sausage

Lesson #4: Going deep on pizza led to other baking obsessions.

Mastering Ali’s foundational pizza dough recipe was a gateway drug to learning about sourdough pizza dough, then bread and baguettes. And I started to see similarities between pizza—with its crust serving as a blank slate for inventive flavor combinations—and pastries, which are vehicles for all kinds of creative sweet and savory toppings, too.

🎬 Week 4: Bufalina's Shrimp Pizza with Roasted Lemon Salsa

Lesson #5: Spending lots of time with one cookbook reignited my passion for all cookbooks.

I started this challenge after letting my cookbook collection gather dust for far too long. But once I began reading and cooking from Ali’s book, I found myself spending time with lots of other authors’ cookbooks, too: beloved ones I’d owned for years, plus new ones I snapped up along the way.

🎬 Week 5: BBQ Chicken Pizza

Lesson #6: I also became a more discerning user of cookbooks.

Spending so much time with one cookbook allowed me to become intimately familiar with its layout and organization. Pizza Night is fabulous on both fronts: everything about the flow of the book (plus each recipe’s well-written ingredient list and instructions) made the cooking process easy. As a result, I began to notice points of friction when using other cookbooks.

When I pick up an unfamiliar tome now, I can tell pretty quickly how seamless—or not!—it’ll be to cook from its pages.

🎬 Week 6: Pizza with Oven-Dried Tomatoes, Mascarpone, and Basil Pesto

Lesson #7: I learned how to deftly combine textures and flavors.

I may have learned the importance of applying (and balancing) salt, fat, acid, and heat from Samin Nosrat, but my pizza journey took things a step further. Making so many distinctive pies in quick succession taught me the joys of layering just the right combination of textures and flavors, from spicy to sweet to creamy, crunchy, briny, bitter, and bright.

🎬 Week 7: Grandma-Style Pizza with Potato and Rosemary

Lesson #8: I got comfortable flexing my own creative muscles.

When I found myself at the grocery store shopping for an out-of-season ingredient—plums, which were supposed to play a starring role in that night’s salad—I had to pivot. I picked up pears instead, and since they were underripe, I decided to roast them with honey, oil, and salt till they were perfectly tender and sweet. Chef’s kiss!

🎬 Week 8: Roasted Butternut Squash Pizza with Gruyère and Sage

Lesson #9: I expanded my toolbox of cooking techniques.

Each recipe introduced me to techniques I hadn’t tried before, but definitely will again: from whipping ricotta in the food processor to roasting lemon slices for a puckery citrus salsa to drying Roma tomatoes over a full afternoon in a low oven.

🎬 Week 9: Roasted Broccoli Pizza with Tomato "Butter" and Olives

Lesson #10: I learned to bring a sense of flexibility and play into my cooking.

After all: it’s only pizza. And if everything goes wrong on one week’s pizza night, there’s always next week! The stakes couldn’t be lower for experimenting with something new.

🎬 Week 10: Caramelized Leek and Potato Pizza

Lesson #11: Setting a lofty goal rather than a “reasonable” one helped me make more progress.

I may not have reach the intended finish line (all 52 recipe pairings in the book), but cooking approximately a quarter of the book’s recipes is a huge win—that’s more recipes than I’ve made from any single cookbook over the course of six months!

🎬 Week 11: Greek Pizza with Spinach, Cherry Tomatoes, Kalamata Olives, and Feta

Lesson #12: Depth begets depth.

Listicles and social media have trained us to skim the surface of things, which initially made choosing depth uncomfortable for me. But now, I’ve seen so many benefits from immersion in a tough project that I don’t want to stop. That’s helping me welcome my next immersive adventure—baking school—with open arms.

🎬 Week 12: For my final installment of this video series, I made the Brussels Sprouts Pizza with Prosciutto, Balsamic, and Ricotta (p. 119, if you’re cooking through Pizza Night too!) and the Fall Wedge Salad with Bacon, Pear, and Blue Cheese Dressing (p. 123):

As I prepare to jump into my pastry-making Depth Year, I want to thank you for cheering on my pizza-making adventures throughout 2024—it was a blast having you along for the ride. So much so that when I’m back from Paris, firing up my Ooni will be my first order of business!

Warmly,
Maddie

Breakfast Club is a newsletter about pastries with a side of personal growth, from an ex-financial planner turned baker. If you savored this edition, click the ❤️ (or share with a friend!) to help new readers discover it—and subscribe to get each letter fresh from the oven.