Of our small family of four, I was the only lactose-intolerant schmuck while the rest of the group was fine with 2%, seemingly ruining the party for all dairy-loving members. “Ice cream, everyone? Well, almost everyone…?” My digestive tract simply hated me, and my special needs didn’t stop there. I was also severely allergic to cats and everything outdoors. I required allergy shots, medications and endless doctors visits where I’d sit in the waiting room and get my hands locked in a Chinese finger trap, more than once. I couldn’t swallow pills so my mom had to budge for more expensive liquids – another event my dad detested. I had the worst teeth of anyone ever – each tooth proudly facing its own unique direction – which required retainers on top of braces on top of retainers just to make me an acceptable member of society again. I also cried every day in the 4th grade because I missed my mom and hated my new school in the middle of nowhere rural America, far from my familiar New Mexican surroundings. Oh, and I had asthma, but let’s not even go down that road. There was a lot of wheezing, inhalers, breathing chambers, and treatments; rather a sad sight from anyone’s perspective. Somewhere between braces, freshman basketball and community college I dropped the lactose intolerant bit, almost like how I stopped wearing glasses in 2009 to force my eyes to get better. My eyes obeyed, my stomach did not, and it’s been fighting with me on dairy quite angrily for a couple years now. I was intolerant of my very own intolerance and, like moldy cheese in the back of your fridge, it came back to bite me. I should’ve been tending to this years ago, but I’m fixing that now; or at least trying. Better late than never, I suppose. In 2013, I’m resolving to listen to my body more, feed it foods it agrees with and leave things like dairy by the wayside, at least temporarily. This recipe may not be the equivalent of a salad in terms of health, but it is dairy-free and healthier than your average pie. Those are two things my stomach can get behind at the moment. Breakfast pizzas are typically savory but I prefer them sweet. This one consists of a simple pizza dough (store bought or homemade; I include a recipe below), baked apples, a raw-sugar streusel and dairy-free vanilla glaze. John and I snacked on these one lazy afternoon this week and couldn’t help but liken them to the dessert pizzas you’ll find in any American pizza stand, only way better. They’re fresher, more wholesome and embarrassingly simple to make. These would make an excellent weekend treat, brunch item or late-afternoon or after-dinner dessert. I prefer them any time of the day, like most things covered in glaze and baked apples. So here’s to a New Year. Here’s to resolutions both small and grand. Here’s to health and happiness in 2013. And here’s to another delicious and simple recipe that’s certainly worth sharing. At the risk of sounding cliche, cheers! baked apples adapted from Joy the Baker
