Thanks to some super helpful advice on my previous post left by Tim of The Second Pancake, my second pizza followed the rule of... well, the second pancake. Tim suggested that I let my dough sit in a warm place until it rose again. I figured that since my kitchen was close to 90 degrees, the counter would be perfect. (Don't ask why I was making something that required turning the oven on in a 90 degree kitchen. Pizza cravings do not listen to logic.)
So I turned the bowl of my salad spinner upside down over the dough and then I successfully distracted myself for about an hour. When I came back, I had a bubble!
Since there hadn't been any bubbles earlier, I figured I was on the right track. At that point, I preheated the oven to 450°F -- a little cooler than last time, since I knew better than to anticipate a perfect thin crust. I also put a link of italian sausage on a baking sheet and let it roast while I prepared the rest of the pizza. I put down a sheet of the parchment paper, sprinkled some corn meal, and then came the moment of truth -- could I turn this blob into a flat dough shape, or would it spring back on me incessantly again?
I felt so empowered as I stretched that dough into shape. There was no resistance. The dough yielded to my every whim, helpless against my fingertips. This pizza dough was my domain, and I was the master of it.
In other words, it worked. Let me say that again: it worked!!
At that point, I spread some leftover tomato sauce over the pie, added chunks of the best smoked mozzarella I've ever tasted (thanks, Joe's Dairy!) and slices of the roast sausage link, and popped the pizza in the oven. Fifteen minutes later, this came out:
And then I ate it. And life was good.