The truth is I missed the kneading. For me a good deal of the pleasure of making bread is tactile—kneading the dough gently at first so that it doesn’t stick to my work surface, scraping it off the board, flouring, folding, and continuing to knead rhythmically until my hands tell me it is ready. The dough gradually loses its tackiness and its resistance and comes alive under my palms, springing back at me when I press my thumb into it to see if it has been kneaded enough. My step-daughter tells me I become like a little girl I am enjoying it so much. And Julia used to say that hand-beating and kneading were good for our upper arm muscles. But this tactile sense also tells me when I have added enough flour and when the dough is just cohesive enough to roll out into the baguette shape. After it has had its final rise, then comes the slashing of the loaf, a procedure that takes some practice to master. With the revolutionary no-knead method, on the other hand, the dough is so moist that all you can do is just plop it into the hot pot and slap on the lid.
Only a baker can really appreciate this, I guess, but it's true. Giving myself over to the rhythm of breadmaking is something I marvel at and enjoy every time I do it. Last night I experimented with a recipe for Nan from Julia Child's Baking with Julia. It made pretty good bread, but not exactly the pizza dough I was hoping for. The Nan has a very short baking time; I think baking it outside on a charcoal grill would be worth trying too.