if it doesn't kill you, it'll make you stronger pizza

I don't usually shop retail and I don't usually photograph food or publish recipes but let's be open-minded and try new things, shall we? I call this If it doesn't kill you it'll make you stronger pizza. The pan is 16" in diameter and I placed a spoon there for scale, so you can see that I did away with a significant amount of it without ill affect. It's doubtful our distant hominid relatives had a pizza pan and therefore had to run deer to death without benefit of this pizza as fuel. I feel like I could run a deer to death but I just don't want to. That's how good this was. Which is why I will share it. A caveat: I totally invented this recipe and, true to form, I didn't measure a thing. In the interest of public safety, I've made very educated guesses about amounts.
Start with the crust:
if you know nothing about making yeast bread, don't start now -- get yourself to Trader Joe's and buy some pizza dough. Otherwise:
1 pkg. dry yeast
1 tsp. salt
1 tbsp. white sugar
1/2 cup corn meal
2 cups flour, to start with but keep it handy
3 tbsp. olive oil
maybe 1 cup warm water (here's where things get sketchy)
Mix that all together. It should be definitely doughy rather than batter-y. Put a little flour on the kitchen counter, dump the dough out onto it. Kneed it like it's your job til it looks like Trader Joe's dough. Don't get all perfectionist about this as that attitude kills the yeast. And other friendships. Butter the dirty old bowl you used to mix this lot in (the inside of the bowl, idiot), flop the dough in there, smear it around and cover it with a cloth. Put the bowl in a warm place which would be next to this stuff you're about to saute on the stove.
Get out a smallish saute or fry pan and pour 1 tbsp olive oil in it. Saute til they're tired and brown and sweaty:
Roughly (even crudely) in big peasanty chunks cut about 400 cloves of garlic (ha, kidding, only about 16 or 20 cloves)
1 large or 2 small yellow onions, sliced pretty thin
if you have some shallots and you're feeling snooty, go ahead, but I warn you, don't cut them nicely
2 tbsp. balsamic vinegar

While the onions and that ilk are sauteing and the dough is rising, get out the other stuff you'll need and heat the oven to 395 (I just feel like 400 is too too, you know). Here's the other stuff:
1 jar of Trader Giotto's basil pesto (do not tell me if you've made the pesto yourself, no one wants to hear that)
1 bag of wild arugula (or tame), be pretty sure it doesn't have salmonella because you're sure as hell not going to rinse it
7 oz. crumbled gorgonzola cheese, or a chunk that you subsequently crumble (sheesh)
a crapload of shredded parmesan
a big pizza pan

Butter the pizza pan. Dump the dough out onto the pan regardless of whether it's raised even one iota because you're hungry and have to get this effin' show on the road. Smash it down and smoosh it out with your fingers til it covers the pan. Spoon about 4 tbsp or more of the pesto onto the dough/crust and spread it around with the back of the spoon. Grab what seems like an insane amount of arugula out of the bag and strew it on top of the pesto. Don't worry, there's greasy stuff to weigh it down. Dump the onion/garlic mixture (that you turned off for crying out loud because the smoke detector was going off) on top of the arugula and even it out all over. Next up, the gorgonzola and last, parmesan in a lacey amount, not a blanket. This is earthy not disgusting. Pop that whole situation in the oven for about 20 minutes, checking it every 20 seconds or so because you're hungry and to catch it just as the parmesan starts to brown.

Have a glass or two of something cheap and red so you won't be tempted to dive right in and burn the living daylights out of the roof of your mouth. If this pizza doesn't make you feel like running barechested and howling through the streets, I don't know what will.