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MAYBE it's the suggestive power of the name, but rarely do I use pizza dough for anything else, even though it's perfectly suitable for savory tarts, flatbreads and rolls. Once I get pizza on the brain, it's hard to redirect. Then I got reacquainted with an old friend also made from that same dough: the calzone. Though it was a childhood staple at my corner pizzeria, I hadn't eaten a calzone in years. But at a dinner at Lucali in Carroll Gardens, Brooklyn, I saw one emerge from the oven, a burnished, puffy crescent oozing ricotta at the seams. On the side was a small bowl of tomato sauce for dunking, garnished with a few fresh basil leaves. It was a much classier presentation than the oil-stained paper plate I would use to transport my calzones of yore, and it tasted better, too. [ABSTRACT FROM AUTHOR]