Black Bean Pizza with Whole Wheat Crust

The reconstruction consultation happened. Dr. Kendall examined me and laid out the options with her usual directness: implant-based reconstruction, the most common approach, done in two stages — first an expander, then the permanent implant. She showed me photos. She explained timelines. She answered my questions with patience and without condescension, which is a rare skill in a surgeon and the reason I trust her with my body.

I asked about pain. She said, "Less than the mastectomy. Different pain." I asked about recovery. She said, "Four to six weeks." I asked about timing. She said, "Whenever you're ready." I said, "How about spring?" She said, "We can do spring."

I drove home and sat in the driveway and thought about choosing to have surgery. Choosing. Not being told. Not reacting to a diagnosis. But walking into a hospital because I decided to, because I want my body to feel like mine again, because I am tired of prosthetics and flat chests and the absence where something used to be. This is reconstruction in every sense — not just physical but personal, the rebuilding of a woman who was taken apart and is putting herself back together, one decision at a time.

Mason had a playdate this week with Ethan, his best friend. They spent three hours in Mason's room building a "laboratory" out of cardboard boxes and examining things under the microscope. They found a hair (mine, curly, confirmed under magnification) and spent twenty minutes debating whose hair it was. The scientific method, applied by six-year-olds, is both rigorous and hilarious.

Lily announced she wants to learn to ride horses. Not toy horses. Real horses. I looked into riding lessons and found a stable outside Eagle that does beginner lessons for $30 a session. Thirty dollars I don't have, except I do now, because of the raise, because of the lead tech position, because the universe occasionally rewards persistence with thirty-dollar riding lessons. I signed her up for a trial lesson in February. She doesn't know yet. The screaming when I tell her will be audible from space.

New recipe #4: homemade pizza dough. Flour, yeast, olive oil, salt, water. Kneaded and risen and stretched and topped with sauce and mozzarella and whatever's in the fridge. Friday pizza night, made from scratch. The dough was imperfect — slightly too thick, slightly underdone in the center — but it was mine, and homemade pizza on a Friday night with my kids is the kind of tradition I want to build, the kind that they'll remember when they're thirty and making their own dough in their own kitchens.

There’s something about kneading dough on a Friday night — flour on the counter, kids arguing over toppings — that feels like choosing. Choosing to build something with my own hands, the same way I’m choosing reconstruction, choosing riding lessons, choosing to put myself and this little family back together one imperfect, slightly-too-thick crust at a time. This whole wheat version with black beans became our go-to because it’s forgiving, it’s hearty, and it lets everyone pile on whatever’s in the fridge — which is exactly the kind of Friday night tradition I want my kids to carry with them.

Prep Time: 1 hour 30 minutes | Cook Time: 15 minutes | Total Time: 1 hour 45 minutes | Servings: 8

Ingredients

For the dough:
2 cups whole wheat flour
1 cup all-purpose flour, plus more for dusting
1 packet (2 1/4 teaspoons) active dry yeast
1 teaspoon sugar
1 cup warm water (about 110°F)
2 tablespoons olive oil
1 teaspoon salt
For the toppings:
1 can (15 oz) black beans, drained and rinsed
3/4 cup pizza sauce or tomato sauce
2 cups shredded mozzarella cheese
1/2 cup diced red bell pepper
1/4 cup diced red onion
1/2 cup corn kernels (fresh, frozen, or canned)
1/4 teaspoon cumin
Fresh cilantro for garnish (optional)

Instructions

Activate the yeast. Combine warm water and sugar in a large bowl. Sprinkle the yeast over the top and let it sit for 5–10 minutes until foamy.
Make the dough. Add the olive oil, salt, whole wheat flour, and all-purpose flour to the yeast mixture. Stir until a shaggy dough forms, then turn out onto a floured surface and knead for 6–8 minutes until smooth and elastic.
Let it rise. Place the dough in a lightly oiled bowl, cover with a clean towel, and let rise in a warm spot for about 1 hour, until doubled in size.
Preheat the oven. Set your oven to 450°F. If you have a pizza stone, place it on the middle rack while the oven preheats.
Season the beans. Toss the drained black beans with cumin and a pinch of salt. Set aside.
Shape the crust. Punch down the dough and roll or stretch it on a floured surface into a 14-inch round (or a rectangle for a sheet pan). Transfer to a lightly greased baking sheet or parchment-lined pizza peel.
Add the toppings. Spread the sauce evenly over the dough, leaving a 1/2-inch border. Scatter the black beans, bell pepper, red onion, and corn over the sauce. Top with the shredded mozzarella.
Bake. Bake for 12–15 minutes, until the crust is golden brown and the cheese is bubbly and lightly browned.
Serve. Let cool for a few minutes, garnish with fresh cilantro if desired, slice, and serve.

Nutrition (per serving)

Black Bean Pizza with Whole Wheat Crust — Building Friday Night Traditions from Scratch