ME, MYSELF & PIE

Greenpoint Pizza Tour 2011

2011-11-23T11:35:00.014-05:00

How often do you really challenge yourself? Do you ever wake up in a cold sweat in the middle of the night, wondering what your full potential is? How many times have you really put yourself to the test?

I'm not talking about that promotion or going back to grad school, what I'm really asking is the all-important question, 'how much pizza can you eat in 3 hours?' I've often pondered this, so when Jen from The Greenpointers/Morta di Fame offered me the opportunity to realize not only my true pizza aptitude but also simultaneously determine the best slice joint in Greenpoint, she had me at "10 pizzerias."

How did we rank each slice? Appearance was worth up to 30 points, while specific and overall taste and flavor accumulated to 45 points for a total of 75 points.

After a windy bike ride north along the East river, I rendezvoused with my pizza comrades Jen and Peter at our first stop, Grandma Rose's on Graham Ave for our first slice of the day. As you can see we decided to use our mind over our gut and just order one slice at each stop and have it cut 3 ways.

Grandma Rose's: 50.5/75

(Note: they tried to bribe us with zeppoles! Fear not, I have integrity)

Next we ducked under the BQE to Nina's at 635 Meeker Ave. As soon as I walked in, they had a point against them- the place proclaims themselves as proprietors of "brick oven pizza," when in reality they just have a pair of gas deck ovens hidden behind a brick facade. FALSE ADVERTISING!

Nina's: 53/75

After a quick spin on our bikes down a quiet Kingsland Ave., we arrived at Vinnie's Greenpoint location. I was familiar with the Williamsburg location so I knew what to expect here. I always think of Vinnie's as a fun joint with a sense of humor to hit up when you're on the market for zany toppings, and the same holds true here.

Vinnie's: 55.5/75

(Note: We were also bribed with garlic knots here and stickers of Vinnie's infamous T.hanks trashcan. I'm not not gonna take 'em, but again my scores remain unaffected. However, they get bonus points for carrying Manhattan Special)

As I rode down Nassau trying to balance a bottle of MS in one hand, it wasn't long before we hooked a right and made our first stop on Manhattan Ave., Pizzeria Valdiano.

Valdiano: 56.5/75

At this point we were just walking our bikes since nearly half of our stops on the trip were within a block of each other. Next up was my favorite, Carmine's (not to be confused with the other Carmine's in Williamsburg).

Carmine's: 59/75

(Notes: Carmine's gets 2 bonus points from me for the fact that Carmine was there in the flesh, making this the only owner-operated pizzeria on the trip. That and the patron cat of pizza was looking down on us for protection. Or hand-outs.)

After Carmine's, we popped across the street to the quintessential pizzeria clad 70's era orange formica and tight eating quarters, Russ Pizza.

Russ Pizza: 50/75

Moving one block north was our next stop, the generically-named Italy Pizza. For the first time on the trip, we found a slice with some decent hole structure in the crust, but unfortunately the slice ultimately didn't deliver on the flavor front-

Italy Pizza: 53.5/75

At this point about an hour and a half in, the pizza fatigue was really beginning to set in. After taking a quick breather and fighting every urge my body was imploring me to yak, we moved on down Greenpoint Ave. to Franklin Pizza.

Franklin Pizza: 57.5/75

I have to admit, I had low expectations of this place, but all things considered it delivered pretty well. Once we scarfed our pizza thirds (I think I was the only one finishing my portions at this point), we were off to Triangolo Pizza further north on Manhattan Ave.

Triangolo Pizza: 55/75

(Note: Triangolo gets a bonus point for their Steven Segall of Fame)

Just look at that tassled-rawhide sport coat. But don't stare too long lest you want a roundhouse to the face. Last on the trip was Casanova over on McGuinness Blvd-

Casanova: 51/75

(Note: They didn't even offer a re-heat! Point deduction.)

Once we weighted, tallied and combined our scores over some brewskis, we came to the following winners:

1st Place: Pizzeria Valdiano

2nd Place: Franklin Pizza

3rd Place: Triangolo Pizza

Check out The Greenpointers for the total recap!

That being said, I think we all know who really rules the neighborhood. After all was said and done, I reflected on the day and learned something about myself:

I eat too much pizza.

New Park Pizza

2011-09-22T11:57:00.005-04:00

For far too long, I've had New Park Pizza on my list of slice joints to hit up. Queens residents won't shut up about it, Paulie Gee swears by it, but I'll tell ya- unless you have a car (and who does in this city?), the place ain't easy to get to.

Check that neon steam! Located in Howard Beach, Queens, NPP isn't too far from JFK airport- which is exactly how I ended up there. We all know food at the airport is more often than not pretty horrendous; truer words couldn't be spoken about Fort Lauderdale's Jet Blue terminal. With my stomach grumbling and hot 'za on my mind (and more importantly, a car waiting in NYC), I decided the time had come for my belly to get to know New Park Pizza.

NPP proudly displays the '94 NY Post article declaring it the best slice in Queens (alongside Di Fara in Brooklyn and Sal & Carmine's in Manhattan). So what makes New Park 'fuhgedaboudit' great? For starters, they cook their pies in a gas-fed brick-lined oven cranked to the max.

Additionally, they have a standard gas deck oven used explicitly for reheats, yielding one mean slice:

...Okay, well two mean slices. New Park has come under a bit of fire lately from some of its long-term patrons who claim the quality of the pies are becoming increasingly inconsistent, often times under and over-cooking the pizza. I understood the controversy when the undercrust on my slices came out much darker than I had anticipated.

Woah, you don't see char like this on your average slice. Upon scoping this out, I gulped hard. Was it nicely charred, or brutally burnt? I really wanted this pizza to be all that it was cracked up to be.

I took one bite and it was all over. I was pie-eyed and in love. No, the dark undercrust wasn't burnt and had just the perfect amount of flavor and rigidity to support the magic happening on top.

The dough has just the right amount of balance to offer staccato salt notes coinciding with chewy sourdough tones. The cheese, while nothing special (low moisture full fat aged Mozzarella) is perfectly cooked and the staple of such a NY slice. And the sauce? Naturally sweet and tangy with what tastes like a hint of black pepper and oregano.

This is what NY pizza is all about, folks, plain and simple. New Park, let's hang out more often. It's a shame you're such a pain in the ass to get to. Is investing in a Zipcar membership just for pizza a sign that I have a problem?

If scarfing this pie is wrong, then I sure as hell don't want to be right.

No Name Pub

2011-09-21T13:56:00.002-04:00

When you think Florida Keys, I bet you imagine sunshine, lush blue water, coconuts, and maybe some seafood or a Cuban sandwich. If I'm correct in guessing that, then you clearly haven't been to the No Name Pub in Big Pine Key.

Are those... dollar bills stapled everywhere?

Yep, estimated at somewhere between 75-85,000 of them. I've seen currency plastered on restaurant walls before, but this is ridiculous! At the recommendation of a friend, I was told I had to stop through No Name on my way down to Key West recently. Had he not mentioned it, I never would have found the place, which is part of their allure.

In case you can't make out their slogan, it reads, "A nice place if you can find it." If it weren't for my GPS, I surely wouldn't have. Tucked away in the most remote of places on Big Pine, I was literally driving through people's backyards to get there. Why? Pizza, of course!

Yes, this pizza is served on circular piece of plywood and accompanied by classiest styrofoam plates. Hey I'm not complaining, dive bars are my comfort zone! No Name first opened as a general store in 1931 before adding an eatery in '36. After going through permutations including a brothel and a hide-out for drug smugglers, No Name eventually came into the restaurant/bar combo form it is now.

One quick glance at the crust will tell you the pizza is cooked in a circular pan, which coupled with the fact that it's a thin crust pie, gives it a pretty unique identity. That being said, however they bake this thing could stand to be a little hotter on the oven floor. Case in point-

I ordered a half cheese/half sausage pie, which wasn't too shabby depending on what you analyze.

The sausage had a nice fennel flavor to it and were about the size of marbles. I'm a large-chunks-of-crumbled-sausage kind of guy, but anything is better than those dense flat cuts of sausage seen on most by-the-slice pizzas.

Resting atop the sausage is one solid layer of stringy mozzarella. There's a possibility that they blend the mozz with another white cheese- maybe provolone or white cheddar, since the stuff definitely has mass.

The sauce, while mostly bland, had a slight zesty kick to it that suggested they tossed in some oregano and little red pepper flake.

This is quintessential bar pizza- boring, but fun, filling and perfectly pairs with an ice cold beer. The crust was the biggest disappointment, and almost felt and tasted like bad, undercooked frozen pizza.

That being said, I still had a blast at No Name and the pizza, while unimpressive, seemed perfect for that moment in time. Would I go back?

Wonder Bar

2011-09-14T12:43:00.009-04:00

Unless you're from Massachusetts, chances are you're going to mispronounce the municipality of Wonder Bar's home city- Worcester. Contrary to accepted pronunciation practices, grammar rules and common sense in general, the town is not "war-ches-ter." No, you'd be way off. In your thickest Bostonian accent, say it with me now: "wuh-stuh."

Based on the way the "er" becomes an "uh," maybe they should rename the place Wonder Bar Pizzer. My sister and her family live just outside of Worcester, so there was no debating whether or not I was going to check this place out. Funny enough, in the 13 years I've been trekking through this town and occasionally grabbing pizza, Wonder Bar had never entered into the equation. Not until I met J Spillane at Coalfire in Chicago last December had I even heard of the place.

Built in 1922, Wonder Bar remains virtually unchanged by time. It even smells old (I actually mean that as a compliment). Grab a seat on one of those rad stools at the bar and scope out the coolest guitar ever created:

WHAAAAAAAAT?! This killer axe was custom made for Wonder Bar by a regular patron. Check out the pizza cutter on the end, and there's even char marks on the crust! Speaking of which, you can see where the artist got his inspiration by ordering a pie (or three) from the waitress.

By default, I had to order a plain cheese-

...as well as a half-pepperoni/half-sausage. Y'know, for research's sake...

...and lastly a fresh tomato and broccoli pie for good measure. I think we got all of our bases covered here. The sausage was just the way it should be- large chunks with hints of fennel, collectively adding a flavorful zing to the pie without ultimately overpowering it.

I didn't get a chance to check out the oven, but from what J and the bartender could tell me, it used to be coal-fired until somewhere in the 50's when, for cost-efficiency reasons, WB had the beast converted to a gas feed. Bummer, but to be quite honest you can hardly tell the difference when a pizza with just the right amount of char is placed right in front of you.

This is quintessential bar pizza in a quintessential New England bar. It doesn't get much cooler than this when it comes to hometown flavor and experience, and Wonder Bar has all the right moves.

As you can guess by the look of the pies, it's not Wonder not a slice was left by the time the tab came.

900 Degrees

2011-06-13T09:16:00.009-04:00

I'm a strong believer that Greenwich Village is hands down the best neighborhood for pizza in America. Within the confines of the quarter square mile radiating out from 6th Avenue and Bleecker Street lies a cross section of what arguably makes New York the greatest pizza city in existence. Yes, it started in Naples and San Francisco is giving the Big Apple a run for its money, but nowhere else can you find such a heavy concentration of incredible pizzerias of nearly every style.

Not convinced? There's old-school NY-Neapolitan at John's, the perfect slice at Joe's, Roman style at Pizza Roma, the infamous "Nonna" slice at Bleecker St. Pizza, incredible Neapolitan pies at Keste, coal-fired pizza at Arturo's, funky slices at Artichoke, more Neapolitan pies at No. 28, and that's not even counting at least 7 or 8 run of the mill slice joints. So who'd be crazy enough to open a new pizzeria in the midst of all this competition?

Enter 900 Degrees, the new creation from multi-award winning pizzaiolo and dough-thrower Tony Gemignani. I'll admit the first reaction I had when I read about this place opening up was pure unadulterated joy. After having had a great time at Tony's Pizza Napoletana in SF, I was pretty stoked to see he was crossing the country. Then the reality set in- "this guy's got brass balls opening in this neighborhood," I thought, "can he pull it off? What's he have that'll set him apart from the rest?"

Well, two ovens for starters.

But that's not all. Similar to its sister site in North Beach, 900 Degrees offers a dizzying selection of not just different pies, but completely different styles of pizza (five to be exact). Just one look at the menu is enough to make your stomach growl and your knees weak.

Manning -or should I say womanning- both of these gnarly ovens (one is traditional wood-burning brick while the other is brick-lined gas-electric deck) is Tony's long-standing 'pizzapprentice' Audrey Sherman, who makes for one hell of a talented, dauntless pizzaiola. Considering how male-dominated the world of pizza seems to be, it's refreshing to see a woman kicking ass behind the bench.

While Tony and Audrey make a killer Margherita (be warned, only 73 are made per day), I had already tried it prior to returning with my camera to properly document the place. Meanwhile, another pie had been haunting my dreams: Tony's 'Original Tomato Pie,' which is Gemignani's take on the Trenton classic with an updated spin.

This thing is all kinds of out-of-control awesome.

After stretching the dough, thin slices of mozzarella are laid down, covered with a great tomato sauce equal parts tangy and spicy, then topped with Neapolitan oregano, EVOO, sea salt and freshly pinched sausage.

All of the tomato pies, along with the Sicilian, Roman, and half of the 'Pizza Americana' are baked in the electric oven, while the Neapolitans are cooked in the wood-burning guy.

Yep, that's from the electric! Before I had a chance to scarf my heavenly tomato pie, one of 900 Degrees' 'farmer pizzas' showed up!

While this isn't currently listed online, you can definitely find it on the menu at 900. I've never had a pizza quite like this, ready for it? White potatoes, leeks, Fiacco's broccoli rabe sausage (made just around the corner), Calabrese chilies, and raw goat milk cheese. "Inventive" doesn't do this pie justice.

I have a lot of respect for 900 Degrees- not only do they have the chutzpah to compete within a stone's throw of the city's best pizzerias, they still manage to bring something new to the plate. Anyone willing to challenge the status quo is a welcome addition to the neighborhood and ultimately New York City.

UPDATE: I stopped by 900 Degrees recently and the place is closed- not sure for how long, but it could be indefinite. Stay tuned for details.

Picco

2011-05-21T03:46:00.005-04:00

Before my wicked long drive out of Boston back to New York, I was weighing my options of where to hit lunch. Santarpio's has been on my list for a while but their schedule didn't fit mine, so I decided to settle for Picco in the Bay Village neighborhood.

Did I say "settle?" Man is that an understatement. I'll tell you right now: I love this place. In fact if the apocalypse were coming and I lived in Boston, this is where I would take shelter to live out the end of days. But I'm getting ahead of myself here, let me show you what Picco is all about.

Rick Katz founded Picco as an homage to two of his favorite foods and started a Pizza and Ice Cream COmpany. See what he did there? Picco (not to be confused with Pizzeria Picco in Larkspur, California) cooks all their pies in a gas-assisted Woodstone oven "well-done" as they say.

While they only feature eight set pies with an additional daily special, Picco has a well-rounded menu with plenty of room for topping additions and substitutions. The friendly gentlemen sitting across from me on his lunch break raved on how the grilled cheese here was the best he'd ever had. Even more impressive, almost everything they make is completely homemade from scratch, from the sausage to the ice cream (thankfully they don't make sausage ice cream).

Of course I ordered the Margherita, but my curiosity ordered mushroom and sausage on half (made in-house? Gotta try it). Picco also offers a killer beer selection from across the country, so I sipped my 21st Amendment IPA (*shhh* it was a company-paid lunch) just feet from the oven as I watched my pie go in and out of the oven. The result?

Yowza! To be quite honest, my first impression was not that this was the most beautiful pizza I'd ever seen, but I clearly didn't know what I was getting myself into here. After carefully inspecting and snapping away pictures in my typical fashion I finally took a bite, and goddamn was it good.

The crust has a dense, crispy shell that misleadingly gives way to one of the most savory, fluffy hole structures I'd seen in quite some time. There is a distinct sourdough taste yielded from the pizzeria's two-day cold rise treatment they give their dough, and it shows, too:

Damn! Look at that fluff! Chewy and crispy at the same time? Don't mind if I do! You can clearly see what Picco means when they say that the pies are cooked 'well-done'

Here's where I have to say it. The crust of this pizza reminded me of another that I'd had recently: the acclaimed Great Lake in Chicago. A ballsy claim, I know, but one that I mean wholeheartedly with praise for both establishments. THIS STUFF IS GREAT. After killing a slice of the Margherita (which actually lacks any basil), I moved onto the more complex sausage and mushroom half-

To be quite honest I like my sausage in large chunks as opposed to sliced, cubed, crumbled, or any other B.S., but this didn't seem to fall into any of these categories. The texture wasn't amazing, but the flavor was. You can see some fennel mixed up in there if you look closely. This pizza was officially awesome. After scarfing every last slice and killing my brew, my friendly co-diner urged me to get some ice cream "for the full experience" at Picco. Twist my arm already!

I ordered a scoop of the caramel swirl which was nothing short of an aneurism of flavor, and I mean that in the best way possible. I paid my bill, thanked the pizzaiolo for an incredible pie, and drove home five hours with a smile across my face the entire time.

Upper Crust

2011-05-21T03:34:00.007-04:00

I get to (read: have to) travel a lot for my day job, something I often find myself doing over weekends, through extreme climates, and meeting plenty of wacky individuals. Fortunately for me, there's pizza everywhere I travel. Everywhere.

Recently I found myself in Boston for a project, and considering how weak my coverage of Massachusetts pizza is, my timing couldn't be better. I knew immediately where I was stopping first: acclaimed pizza chain Upper Crust.

I went to the flagship location originally opened by founder Jordan Tobins in 2001 in the Beacon Hill neighborhood. This place was pretty cramped with only one large communal table, but no harm no foul- you gotta start somewhere, right?

UC is strictly a gas deck oven kind of joint, which is no surprise considering they have 20 locations and counting at this point (including Washington, D.C.). This isn't a situation like Boston pizza brethren Pizzeria Regina in which the original location operates a coal oven while its franchised subsidiaries are all gas (boo)- no, from what I hear their quality control is amiably consistent between locations.

So here's the plain slice, which has a nice zing to it. From what I could tell they put some red pepper flakes in their sauce- something I don't usually dig but it works well with whatever else they're seasoning their tomatoes with. The pie itself is super thin, also something I'm not usually a fan of, but again, Upper Crust was nailing this slice.

Here's how this place operates when you walk in for a slice- every day they have plain cheese and pepperoni ("Roni" as they call it), as well as their daily special. Upper Crust has a staggering list of specialty pizzas and even more toppings and ingredients to boot, ranging from your average expectancies to toppings that some people would argue "don't belong on a pizza."

Case in point: the grilled chicken pesto pie was the daily special. I hesitated at first, but I clearly made the executive decision to order one of these guys as well. After a couple bites I had no regrets, and though I'll admit I don't order this combo frequently, it didn't quite outshine the chicken pesto slice I had last summer at Sammy's.

Nevertheless, Upper Crust makes a smashing pizza and 'gives the people what they want' by putting 53 different toppings on their menu. I can clearly see why this place has become a local favorite in such a short amount of time and how they're able to expand so rapidly.

I left with a full stomach and a realization that Boston truly has a unique pizza identity, something I was unsure of until my visit to Upper Crust. So when are they opening one in New York? "When the sox win the next World Series."

We'll see about that.

Zigolini's

2011-05-21T03:31:00.004-04:00

Whew! Alright, after an extensive pizza chow-down sesh in Chicago I'm finally back in New York! Just shy over an hour after landing in Newark (ugh) I found myself in my old, much beloved neighborhood of Hell's Kitchen to finally give Zigolini's Pizza Bar a proper look-see.

I have to admit I didn't walk through ZPB's doors with a totally unbiased attitude. Zigolini's is located on 9th Ave. between 46th and 47th, and I used to live directly across the street. The demise of Orchard Caribbean Soul Cuisine in this location begat this pizzeria at what felt like the instant I moved to Brooklyn, so a part of me almost wanted to hate this place in order to save myself pangs of regret.

Zigolini's is a relatively traditional Neapolitan-style pizzeria and, as the name suggests, a bar to boot. You won't find any surprising pie concoctions here as most of the menu is comprised of traditional Italian toppings ranging from buffalo mozz DOC to truffle oil. Naturally I ordered the Margherita to see how it held up.

Okay. That's how this pie looks, and that's how it tasted. Not bad, not amazing, but okay.

Don't get me wrong, the mozzarella was plenty flavorful with a nice salty zing and the tomatoes were kept deliciously simple to make a decent Margherita, but the pizzaiolo here could stand to throw another sprig or two of basil on before firing up his pies. If there's one thing that gets me unnecessarily heated over a Margherita is a lack of basil. C'mon, it's a compulsory ingredient, not a garnish!

My pizza had a nice cook to it, both under and over. That being said, the cornicione was nothing to write home about. I like my Neapolitan crusts big and fluffy enough to take a nap on, and this guy just seemed flat without much discernible flavor. Again, okay.

The service? Okay. The decor? Okay. That being said, if I still lived across the street I'd be here once a week. I finally had to face the facts: a decent brick oven pizzeria had opened up close enough for me to roll out of bed into had I still lived in Hell's Kitchen, and now I have regrets about my move. Not okay.

Pequod's

2011-05-20T23:52:00.001-04:00

Holy water buffalo, it's been a minute! Please forgive my absence from pizzaphilia, but I'm back to finish what I started. Last, but certainly not least on my Chicago stops is the legendary Pequod's Pizza.

If there is one thing I've learned from my Chicago pizza expedition it's that the city has an eclectic if not totally badass cross section of pizza styles. I've shown you deep dish, stuffed, Neapolitan, coal-fired, thin crust, New York-style, New Haven-style and artisanal, but forget all that. This is pan pizza.

What is pan pizza, you ask? The defining factor that sets pan apart from something like an otherwise similarly thick pizza like deep dish is the crust. Instead of pinching and pulling the dough up the side of the pan to create a crust, the pizza is topped and built all the way to the edge. The result? In Pequod's case, it's a caramelized latticework extending above the rim of the pizza.

Beautiful, isn't it? I almost didn't want to cut the pie in fear of crumbling this work of art, but my stomach got the better of me.

This pizza hands down ranks as the best deep-style pizza I had in Chicago, eclipsing my previous favorite, Lou Malnatti's. If the picture above isn't evident enough, full disclosure: I ordered sausage on top. Necessary? Hardly. Worth it? Totally.

The location I visited in the Lincoln Park neighborhood isn't the original. Burt Katz opened Pequod's in nearby Morton Grove over 30 years ago in 1970. Eventually, Burt sold the place and peaced out to start Burt's Place which he still operates today. The ownership may have changed, but the recipe and trademark crust remain the same.

This is the cleanest "cut away" I could snap in an attempt to reveal the dough to sauce + topping ratio. Pretty damn thick, but ultimately none too unbalanced. After my third slice I should have stopped, but who wants to take home one measly slice? More importantly, who could live with themselves letting it go to waste?

The aftermath. Until we meet again, Pequod's...

Piece Pizza

2011-05-20T23:51:00.012-04:00

After spending my entire Saturday scarfing pies across the city of Chicago, I finally ended up at Piece Pizza for a nightcap.

(Courtesy of Sylvia Badon)

Let me tell ya, it's no easy feat hitting up 8 pizzerias in a day, but I never said this job was piece of cake (it's more like a piece of pizza). Against all odds, I managed to talk my stomach into just one more pizza.

Make that two. If you know your pizza styles and the picture above is any indication, Piece offers a kind of pie that doesn't exist anywhere else. That is, outside of New Haven, Connecticut.

This place is huge, as in built out of an old roofing company's garage huge. Piece was founded by Bill Jacobs, a native of- you guessed it- New Haven. After becoming fed up with what the Windy City had to offer in the way of pizza, Jacobs took matters into his own hands and started his own pizzeria to bring a taste of home to the Midwest. Sound familiar? After recruiting a friend/former Sally's Apizza (ugh) employee and a little financial help from Cheap Trick's Rick Nielsen, Piece Pizza was established in 2001.

Hey look! One of Rick's signature unnecessarily over-necked guitars!

Just like any New Haven (a)pizzeria, Piece nails the signature approach of white, red, and plain (no mozz) pizza options. They even serve pies on trays with wax paper, "just like home." I ordered a medium red and a medium plain with chicken

Both pies were pretty good, but to be honest didn't quite nail that New Haven flavor right on the head. The reason? Piece's huge Cutler oven operates on gas instead of the traditional coal, so you can imagine how the results might vary from its east coast brethren.

See what I mean?

Yet what Piece may lack in ozone-polluting fuel sources it makes up for in brewskis. Not only do they tout some of the city's most well-respected, award-winning craft brews, but they're all brewed in-house!

(Courtesy of Nerd City Online)

Brewmaster Jonathan Cutler (above) of Goose Island and Sierra Nevada fame joined up with Jacobs from the start ten years ago and continues to churn out stellar beer time and time again.

"I'll take one of each please."

While Piece may not have bested the very pizzerias they harken to, they still bring some well-crafted if not mostly-authentic pies and truly unique craft beer to a populace that wouldn't otherwise know what they're missing.

Plum Pizzeria

2011-02-24T22:54:00.010-05:00

There is perhaps no single ingredient more iconic than the tomato when it comes to Italian cuisine. As they left their jobs at a Patsy's on University Place to open their own pizzeria restaurant in the east village, Alex Alexopoulos and Adonis Nikoulis agreed to name their new establishment after one of the finer species of tomato, the plum variety.

Plum has a nice cozy atmosphere that is simultaneously inviting and classy without taking itself too seriously. After making a couple new food and wine-obsessed friends, we took a seat and were promptly brought our first course, a classic Caprese salad-

In addition to the standard mozz, tomato, basil and olive oil, this guy featured roasted peppers, pesto and a tasty balsamic reduction. However, the real stars were the Lucky's tomatoes and fresh and creamy house-made mozzarella.

Promptly after cleaning my plate, I was visited by three impeccable pasta dishes, starting with a serving of penne ala vodka.

Served steaming hot with bits of savory Italian bacon intermixed with the al dente penne, this was my favorite pasta dish of the night. It's hard to nail a balanced creamy tomato sauce without going too heavy-handed on the cream, but these guys nailed it. Yumtown City.

Next up was a fun and tasty combination of pumpkin and pistachio in the form of yellow pumpkin ravioli in a creamy pistachio sauce. I had never experienced these two flavors in the same bite before, but after digging in it was deliciously clear why they had been paired together.

Last on the pasta list was a delicious rigatoni alla bolognese. The sauce here was hearty and zesty, with a mix of veal and beef and from what I could tell some Parmesan, oregano and pepper. Tasty indeed, but I'm no pasta blogger and you came here to read about pizza, ammiright?

I spoke with Alex about his shiny new Baker's Pride ovens which he keeps in plain view to all customers (as it should be!), which he keeps at (a relatively standard) 675-750 degrees. I've never had the opportunity to fire a pie in one of these, but have always wondered just how hot you can crank these things. Before I could ask any more questions, the pizza arrived-

Pretty beautiful, right? We were served two large 17" pies, the first of which was half sausage and onion, half garlic and pepperoni topped off with fresh Neapolitan basil. At Plum, you customize your own pizza topping-by-topping (of which they have a nice selection), but I was happy with the combinations the house made on our first pizza.

Before anyone had a chance to take a bite, Alex walked over to briefly explain his product. What he did next was shocking: he lifted a slice off the tray, to which there was no tip-sag, and then proceeded to hold the slice straight up and down by the crust. Why? To show the neatness of his product, and the prove that nothing is going to fall off your slice.

An interesting and ballsy move indeed, but you can't say the guy doesn't stand by his product! After sampling a slice of the sausage and a slice of the pepperoni, I was really beginning to get a grasp on Alex's approach to pizza.

In order to obtain the stiffer, more rigid undercrust he displayed, he leaves the dough a bit thicker in the middle and then bakes the pie slightly longer. While this doesn't burn the mozzarella and leaves a stronger layer of crust, the end result is a crunchy, almost tough undercrust that I thought distracted from the delicate and oh, so holy cheese-sauce-crust balance.

Don't get me wrong, I've had enough disgusting and shameful pizza at the opposite sloppy, undercooked end of the spectrum to make me cry out for a firmer crust, but I think Plum's pizza could perhaps stand to come out of the oven 30 seconds earlier to preserve some essential pizza "juiciness."

I know for a fact that Alex uses some absolutely delicious mozzarella, fine Italian tomatoes and a selection of primo toppings that I think could all benefit from less time in the oven. Case in point, the next pie was half plain Margherita, and half mushroom with peppers. This was a great classic combo that, had I not eaten so much prior to the pizza, would be endanger of being scarfed entirely by me.

Finally came dessert. We were all brought slice of chocolate mousse cake, and man was it exquisite. Alex explained that he features one, different dessert every night created by students at NYU's Food Studies program. This insures the freshness of his dishes, and boy did my cake taste fresh.

The service, atmosphere, wine, and food were all fantastic at Plum Pizzeria and I had a thoroughly enjoyable dining experience, but next time I return I think I'll ask for extra sauce and cheese on my pie.

Subway Pizza

2011-02-01T12:55:00.009-05:00

A while ago I did something I'm not very proud of, something so vile and wretched that the most befitting punishment I can inflict on myself is to publish on the internets just how disgusting I am for the whole world to see.

I bought and (here's where it gets revolting) ate a pizza at Subway.

Is this a pizza or the head of Predator? I can't really tell but one thing is for sure: both will destroy you in the end and have no remorse about doing so. Alas, I'm getting ahead of myself. This all started after debating whether or not to actually do this to myself over the course of a week before finally letting my curiosity get the best of me and walking to my local Subway around the corner.

The big stainless steel box in the center of this photo is the electric hellraiser that brought my demon-spawn "pizza" to life. Homeboy taking my order actually had to go behind closed doors to fetch the frozen par-baked disc, which in my mind meant that they must sell around 3 of these things a year. He unwrapped the plastic, put the pie in the oven, punched in some numbers and walked away. Mere minutes later and this thing was staring me in the face:

Don't let my ace photography fool you- this is in fact a triangular piece of shit. At first glance you might actually mistake this for an edible slice of frozen pizza, but I assure you this wolf in pizza clothing is far worse than even your lowest grade Tombstone or Red Baron.

I'm not sure what they're using for "sauce" but it looked and tasted more like oregano-seasoned ketchup. Based on the way the pizza looked, I came close to trying to peel back the entire layer of cheese in one fell swoop just to prove a point, but realized I still had to eat this thing and would rather vomit after rather than before having to force it down.

Wow, I've heard people liken pizza crust to cardboard before, but I'm pretty sure this was actually made of cardboard. Maybe even the box it came in was edible!

I know what you're thinking: "That doesn't look so bad, it looks kind of like a DiGiorno, I'd probably eat it." Fine, go ahead and try it, but when you end up feeling like the guy from Alien don't say I didn't warn you.

Pat's Pizza

2011-01-28T09:02:00.004-05:00

Just after departing from the Chicago Pizza Tour, I zipped uptown to Lincoln Park with a friend to check out what is hailed as one of the city's best thin-crust pizza at Pat's.

I have absolutely no idea who Pat is or was, but the pizzeria was started by Nick Pianetto in 1950 out of his family home. The restaurant remained in its original location until a few years ago before ultimately relocating to its current location on North Lincoln Ave.

Check out these rows of booths with their own roof! I wasn't patient enough to wait for one of these cozy guys, so I dashed into a roofless booth and ordered a plain thin crust pie with a quickness. After trying Pizano's flavorless, undercooked take on this style, I was weary and set my expectations low. Then the pie arrived:

ThaswhaddImtalkinbout! A well-cooked thin crust pizza with a perfect balance of flavorful ingredients, Pat's knows how to make a good, solid pie. It came as a relief to see an undercrust with some color- something I had grown accustomed not to expect in Chicago.

This is the epitome of Chicago's take on thin crust; a minimalistic counterpoint to often overwhelming deep dish pizzas. Always cut tavern-style/party-style, leaving the crustless center squares the trickiest and greasiest to handle.

Honestly there wasn't anything profound or incredible about Pat's, it's just a real solid, tasty pizza that I would eat over and over again if I lived in the Windy City. Further, I think the pizza here struck a chord of nostalgia for me, beckoning my taste buds back to similar pies found at places like Carbone's in Minneapolis on which I was raised.

I was happy to scarf a pie that boldly asserted that not all thin crust in Chicago was a bland alternative to ordering a demanding deep dish, like some sort of boring younger brother of your best friend. No, at Pat's the thin crust pizza commands the attention and appetite of its patrons, and while you can order a deep dish here if you want, you'd be missing the point.

Santullo's

2011-01-28T08:58:00.006-05:00

After stuffing myself with pies from 6 other pizzerias, I decided to (of course) eat more pizza and grab my first "NY-style" slice in Chicago at Santullo's while waiting for my table down the street at Piece Pizza.

At this point, I'd had a good variety of deep dish, Neapolitan, artisinal and thin crust pizza throughout Chicago, but no hot slices. Thankfully Santullo's, located in the oh-so-hip Wicker Park neighborhood, couldn't have been more convenient for me at the time.

The place has a welcoming, almost kitschy rockabilly feel to it, with plenty of seating and tongue-in-cheek humor regarding its clientele.

I was so used to stumbling into NY pizza joints and placing my order with anyone willing to take it- not the case at Santullo's. I had to be redirected to the front register (even though I was the only customer around).

It was there that I came across Santullo's esteemed "Best Pizza" award next to the register. I don't really understand it- it's a...pizza cutter attached to a golden wire-frame pizza slice? Hmm, okay. Pretty sweet.

This coupled with the seemingly endless reheat process, I was seeping with anticipation for my slice. "This is going to be so awesome," I remember thinking to myself.

...This is so not awesome. Look at the muted layer of coagulated cheese. In this light (which to be fair is unflattering), it looks almost like prosthetic skin. Did I just make that up? After a good four minutes reheating in the oven, the slice was somehow piping hot and incredibly soggy at the same time.

The last time I ate a slice this shitty and sloppy it was at Blondie's in San Fran. No, Santullo's slice isn't quite as bad, but after making my way halfway through and sampling the crust, I tossed it in the trash all the same. And that's saying a lot.

Sure Santullo's, if that's what you wanna call it. At this point I realized Chicago should stick to making deep dish, and NY should stick to making slices. Please.

Chicago Pizza Tour

2011-01-27T10:54:00.008-05:00

As I prepared for my pizza expedition out west, one of the best decisions I made was to book myself a spot on Jon Porter's Chicago Pizza Tour.

A native Chicagoan, Jon has his eyes on the pies and his thumb on the pulse of the Windy City's pizza scene. Yet he's not the only pizzaphile in town operating a pizza tour- in fact, the city has three competing tours. So how did I pick Jon's CPT?

(There's Jon on the right with a double-dose of driver Jim Nikitas)

For one thing, Jon is the only tour that travels by bus- or should I say, via the Dough Force One. The heavy snow that Saturday only reinforced my decision.

Jon's tour also seems to have the most pizzeria diversity compared to his competitors, cutting across traditional Chicago deep dish and thin crust, artisinal, and brick oven styles. Also before I forget, there's something to be said about the similarity in logos between Scott's Pizza Tour and the Slice of Chicago pizza tour:

Calling SoCPT's logo similar is being nice. What gives?

We started out at Pizano's in the loop. This pizzeria was founded by Rudy Malnatti, Jr., the son of the legendary man behind Pizzeria Uno and brother to Lou Malnatti.

Here we tried Pizano's deep dish as well as their thin crust-

My apologies on the low exposure. To be quite honest, I wasn't very impressed with either pie. The deep dish had a firm, bready crust similar to Pizzeria Uno's, and the thin crust was disappointingly undercooked on the bottom.

After hopping into the Dough Force One, we headed north to artisinal pizzeria Apart Pizza.

Immediately upon walking in the door, I knew this place was serious about the pies they crank out.

I love the "CAUTION: We cook real Italian pizza" warning. Most Chicagoans must not know what they're getting into.

Co-owner Bianca Ganvik warmly received us before taking us back stage to show off her ovens and *gasp* let some of us make our own pizza! I couldn't resist.

Awe-inspiring, I know. I took a cue from Jon and made some sort of breakfast concoction including mozzarella, ham, goat cheese, egg and oregano...

...while the resident chef whipped up one of Apart's signature "Pollo Tuscano" pies, consisting of chicken, mushrooms, onions, Feta and roasted peppers.

I had a great time on the tour, and was stoked that I could knock down slices at four pizzerias that I would have had to otherwise visit individually. Not only does Jon know his pizza, he knows his history which provided for a tasty, informative and well-rounded tour of Chicago.

If you find yourself hungry in the Windy City with a free afternoon and a serious case of indecision, do yourself a favor and give Jon a call.

Gino's East

2011-01-13T09:07:00.006-05:00

Just as I thought my journey on the Chicago Pizza Tour was beginning to wind down, I had no idea what I was in for.

Holy shit. Welcome to Gino's East.

This is Gino's East's largest location, formerly a Planet Hollywood, where vandalizing is not only allowed but encouraged on any untouched spot in the joint-

Why not? It's fun for the whole family!

Gino' East was founded in '66 by two taxi-drivin' buds Fred Bartoli and Sam Levine with their pal George Laverde. Though they were (relatively) recent Italian transplants, they had no idea what they were doing when it came to deep dish pizza, so they hired this woman:

Alice Mae Redmond. This righteous lady cut her teeth making pies at deep dish ultra HQ Pizzeria Uno and Pizzeria Due for 17 years before heading over to Gino's East to do some major damage.

Unhappy with the taste and consistency of the crust in Uno's pie, Alice made some major tweaks to create what has now become legendary at Gino's- a thick, bready, corny crust.

Yes, you heard me right. This stuff tastes about one ingredient away from actual cornbread and has a slight sweetness to it.

Somebody that saw this picture without any explanation thought it was a bloody foot. What you're looking at here is Gino's crumbled sausage deep dish pizza (not to be confused with the disc-like patty sausage variety) consisting of the aforementioned crust, a pound and a half of mozzarella, sweet chunky tomato sauce, and small bits of sausage.

Alice eventually retired in 1989 after developing recipes and working at Gino's for 29 years. I'm impressed...

...unfortunately I can't say the same for this...pizza. Of all the deep dish places I visited, I think I liked Gino's LEast.

Coalfire

2011-01-05T09:11:00.009-05:00

Initially I was planning on squeezing the four pizzerias I visited while aboard the Chicago Pizza Tour into one review, but my experience at Coalfire ensured this place deserves its own write-up.

Just before we rolled up to our third stop of the day amidst the billowing snow in the "Dough Force One," our guide Jon Porter passed around this year's Chicago Magazine which featured critic Jeff Ruby's top 25 pizzerias in the city. Guess who's pizza graced the cover?

BOOM, Coalfire! As Jon explained it, J. Spillane was a bartender at The Matchbox who always had a gripe with what Chicagoans passed as pizza. He'd go on and on about what pies were like back east outside of Boston in his native Worcester, MA (pronounced /wuh-stuh/ for those unfamiliar). Finally someone challenged him to make something better, so J. took to his home oven and his grandmother's recipe.

Being the perfectionist that he is, Spillane tossed out his family's dough recipe in search of something even better. After many pies and tribulations (see what I did there?), he brought a pizza by the bar and silenced the patrons to such an extent he decided to open his own pizzeria just down the road with a fellow Massachusite? Massachussetter? I give up, I'm going with Masshole.

After J. picked his oven of choice, the place practically named itself. Do I even have to tell you what kind of fuel they use in their oven?

That's 800 degrees for ya. Just like its coal-burning forefathers like John's and Patsy's, it only takes a mere 2 minutes to fire a pie in that monster. The result?

What a beautiful pie, ammiright?

Upon my first glance at the crust, I was immediately reminded of Totonno's dark-tinted cornicione.

Just when I was beginning to believe the Windy City was made up of nothing but deep dish pizzerias, J. swoops in to save the day. The crust was chewy, the sauce tangy, and silky mozzarella not a touch over-burned, all finished off with a firm, crispy undercrust.

Along with our margherita, we also got to taste Coalfire's white pie consisting of ricotta, mozzarella, Romano, black pepper, oregano, garlic-infused olive oil, and of course garnished with fresh basil.

Pretty decent slice, but my initial reaction was that it could use a bit of a salty kick. Maybe a little more Romano or even some sea salt? Regardless, this pie's delicate balance yields a creamy, fluffy product that is not to be messed with.

Here's the Coalfire crew-

L-R: Dave Bonomi, Bill Carroll, and J. Spillane. Not only was it refreshing to come across some east coast transplants that know how to throw a good pie, Coalfire's margherita was one of the best pizzas I had while in Chicago and for that matter, anywhere in quite some time.

Keep the home fire burnin', guys.

Great Lake

2010-12-29T12:00:00.007-05:00

Of course, what kind of a pizza expedition to Chicago would be complete without a stop at the Windy City's newborn artisinal pizza mecca, Great Lake?

Husband and wife team Nick Lessins and Lydia Esparza opened the doors to this pizzeria just shy of three years ago in February of 2008. Flash back a few years earlier, when the couple stumbled upon a talented pizzaiolo making pies in a strip mall in Chicago. That man was Chris Bianco, and he made a lasting impression on Lessins and the pizzas he now crafts.

This place is tiny- 14 seat capacity and they're only open a few hours between Wednesday and Sunday. Between the two of them, Esparza and Lessins essentially had no experience working in the food industry prior to opening Great Lake. Nick toiled away in his home kitchen, making pizza after pizza until his recipe was just right (woof, I can relate to that) until finally porting it over to his workhorse gas oven blazing at a modest 650 degrees.

Shortly after the grand opening, GQ food critic Alan Richman "exposed" Great Lake as making one of the best pizzas in the country, and while some locals may call it overrated ("I would rather get a root canal or watch 'Two and a Half Men' than go to this place again"), there is no denying the attention this place is getting.

In an interview with the NY Times, Lessins has called this attention a blessing and a curse. This is where the couples' business model begins to show its true colors. To put it bluntly, Lydia is quoted as saying "the customer really isn't always right." It's pretty apparent that Esparza and Lessins' top priorities are:

1. Make the absolute best pizza possible, every time, no matter how long it takes or how impatient the customer, and
2. Keep in control of the pizzeria and don't let it rule your life. Don't expect this place to expand or open a second location.

I got lucky the night I stopped by (who am I kidding, I planned my day around this visit) and did not have to wait for a table (around 5 P.M. on a Saturday). There were three pizzas on the menu, of which I ordered #1 to stick as close to a traditional Margherita as possible. 40 minutes later the waitlist to be seated reached an hour and a half, and my pizza finally hit my table:

Homemade mozzarella, tomatoes (source and style unknown), mona cheese, and marjoram in lieu of basil. I'd never encountered an herb swappage such as this, but it definitely works. So what's my opinion on Great Lake's controversial pizza?

Pretty goddamn fantastic. I can honestly say (and did between slices) that I've never had a pizza quite like this. After watching Lessins meticulously stretch out pizza skin after pizza skin, I was expecting a heavy, dense pie, but boy was I wrong. As I lifted my first slice I thought it was going to float away- the crumb and hole structure throughout the whole pizza is a thing of beauty:

The dough has a great sourdough flavor due to the wild yeast Nick has cultured, and the flavors meld together in perfect harmony. My only regret was not ordering another pie or two (that Cremini mushroom pizza sounds stellar, right?), but after eating at five pizzerias prior and still needing to tackle another two that day, I had to refrain.

I did my best to capture the pizza's deliciousness via photograph, but I don't think my pizza was very photogenic. Now I bet you're wondering: was the service as shitty as everyone says it is? Yes and no. Nick and Lydia are very focused individuals with little concern for customer accommodations, and can at times come across as cold. That being said, I appreciate Lessins' attention to detail and sat patiently for a pizza well worth the wait. After the meal, Nick and I had a nice chat about his operation and I almost couldn't get him to stop talking.

While the pizzeria may lack somewhat of a soul, the bottom line is: you gotta try this pizza. Worth taking a trip to Chicago just to experience it? Probably not, but with everything this city has to offer (especially in the way of pizza), I highly suggest booking yourself a trip once the weather improves. Just don't expect any smiles from the other end of the counter.

Winter Pizza Party

2010-12-19T16:09:00.008-05:00

I'm interrupting my recap of Chicago for the more self-serving purpose of blogging my own pizza from a little shindig last weekend-

The only rule of the night was to BYOT (bring your own toppings), resulting in some pretty zany combinations. By the end of the night I had fired eight pizzas in the smoldering depths of what is possibly the world's smallest home oven; three New York-style pies, three "Neapolitan" style, one Sicilian and a gluten-free.

This here's the gluten-free pizza made with Daiya dairy-free "cheese" for the celiac and vegan crowd. No wheat or dairy? I don't know how I'd survive in this world without beer and pizza, but no friend of mine should be left pizza-less regardless of dietary afflictions, so it had to be done. Needless to say, with a consistency resembling Play-Doh, gluten-free dough is the biggest pain in the ass.

New York-style pie. Could have used another 30 seconds under the broiler. Meh.

Next we had a white pie with fresh mozzarella, black olive pate, garlic, artichokes, and arugula. Clearly there were some clever flavor combinators in attendance.

I was pretty stoked on the fact that there were no technical dough-ficulties during the night- every pie built came right back out of the oven well-cooked (more or less).

The demand for meat was in the air, so someone decided throw together a pizza with San Marzano-based sauce, fresh mozz, (pre-oven) arugula, strips of bacon and (half) pineapple. I didn't get a chance to try this so I can't speak for the final outcome.

My pan of Sicilian dough had been rising for a few hours, so it was time to start making power moves on this guy.

Maybe not the best shot, but I was going for an L&B-inspired Sicilian pie with low-moisture mozz, NY-style tomato sauce, heavy sprinkling of grana padano, then half pepperoni and half mushroom.

Next up on the list is my pride and joy, the eponymous Pizza Commander I created while at Paulie Gee's- fior di latte, (pre-oven) arugula, cherry tomatoes, EVOO, shaved Parmesan and lemon juice.

I was pretty stoked on this pie; it turned out smashing.

I barely remember what went on this pizza, nor how many beers in I was at this point. I'm 90% it was the following: fior di latte, goat cheese, sliced pears lightly caramelized in Mike's Hot Honey, then topped with arugula fresh out of the oven.

No pizza party is complete without a desert pizza- sliced apples, honey, cinnamon, nutella and peanut butter. Peanut butter? Yeah I know, but it worked, so don't even.

Wash it all down with some limoncello digestif from a good friend,

Over and out.

Lou Malnatti's

2010-12-13T01:35:00.004-05:00

After eating at Spacca Napoli, Pizzeria Uno, and Giordano's, I decided the least sane and healthy thing to do was to grab one more deep dish pizza at Lou Malnatti's. Ya know, for a night cap.

For the sake of convenience, I hit up the location on North Wells. Similar to New York City's incestuous pizza family tree, Chicago's pizza history is comprised of family legacy and pizzeria off-shoots, and Lou Malnatti's is no exception. When Rudy Malnatti, Sr. first brought deep dish pizza to the Windy City with Ike Sewell and Rick Ricardo at Pizzeria Uno, his sons Rudy Jr. and Lou soon joined the ranks helping out in the kitchen.

Flash forward 30-some odd years to 1971 to when Lou set out to open his eponymous pizzeria with his wife in Lincolnwood, IL, and history will show that Rudy's son had a success on his hands. Now with 31 locations scattered throughout the greater Chicago area, Lou Malnatti's is consistently ranked as one of the city's best pizzerias. I wasted no time ordering the "Malnatti Chicago Classic-"

As a disclaimer, I've been told the 6" individual pie is not the best option on which to base an opinion for any deep dish, but three pies in I didn't have the stomach to order anything larger.

The Malnatti Classic is made up of mozzarella, lean sausage, tomato sauce, Parmesan cheese, and Lou's signature butter crust. Full disclosure: I did not eat this in the restaurant. In fact, I ordered my pie with full intention of sitting down to wolf it, but minutes after ordering became discouraged and changed my order to go. Strangely enough, my pizza was ready just seconds after I did so (did I 'steal' someone else's pizza? Or are these par-baked?). Odd.

Of all the deep dish pizzerias I ate at (Lou's, Uno's, Gino's East, Pizano's, and Giordano's), Lou's was definitely my favorite, primarily due to the crust they rock. It's much simpler than its counterparts and quite frankly, it's tastier. It's thinner, crunchy while retaining a nice greasy breadiness, and most importantly it doesn't look as ridiculous as their competitor's product.

While I have my respect for it, I'm still not completely sold on the deep dish craze. Malnatti's may have been my favorite amongst this style, but I would still only rank it my 5th favorite pizza in the 12 I tried in Chicago. Oh what the heck, here's to you, Lou.

Giordano's

2010-12-13T01:28:00.006-05:00

Just minutes after wolfing all but one slice of my individual pie at the OG Pizzeria Uno, I met a good friend near beautiful Millennium Park to dig right back in to another pie, this time at the birthplace of Chicago's acclaimed stuffed (not deep dish) pizza, Giordano's.

While this may not be the first Giordano's to open, I didn't have the luxury of opting for each pizzerias authentic original location considering how many spots I had to hit up while in town. Besides, I've never heard a Chicagoan insist on one pizzeria's location over another- quality control seems to be consistent across the city.

Cutting right to the chase- this is a stuffed pizza. Let me refine that; this is a small (10") spinach stuffed pizza. From the ground up, it consists of dough, spinach, mozzarella, dough (again), tomatoes, and Parmesan cheese.

Did I mention the crust is two inches tall?

I put my chapstick next to the pie just to give it some scale. I was at a loss for words when the pie hit the table. Deep dish is one thing, but two layers of dough? Are you trying to fatten me up to eat me? What's going on here?

Apparently Giordano's (and I'm assuming most other pizzerias in the city) use a pound and a half of cheese per pie. WOOF.

Giordano's was founded by brothers Efren and Joseph Boglio in 1974, both immigrants from northern Italy. According to Efren, his mother Giordana used to make stuffed pizza similar to what they serve today. For some reason, I have a hard time believing not only they serve stuffed pizza in northern Italy, but that it has any resemblance to this monstrosity. Until this can be proven to me, I'll accept the Boglio's story with a grain of salt.

While the ingredients in my pie certainly tasted fresh, I was underwhelmed by Giordano's dense, bready crust and superfluous second layer of dough. This pizza looks like a caricature of a pizza style already pushing the envelope on going overboard.

Spacca Napoli

2010-12-10T09:09:00.006-05:00

Contrary to popular belief, Chicago's repertoire of pizza is not limited to just deep dish and stuffed style. In fact, it has its own VPN-certified Neapolitan Pizza joint in the northern neighborhood of Ravenswood, Spacca Napoli.

After numerous trips to Naples, Jon Goldsmith opened Spacca Napoli in the winter of 2006 after realizing Chicago had no traditional Neapolitan pizzerias to offer. Spacca Napoli translates directly to "Naples splitter," referring to a main thorough fair through Naples that literally divides the city into different sectors.

Originally Jon employed native Italian Nella Grassano as his pizzaiola until she left to start Pizzeria Nella in 2009, but nothing could have prepared me for who was behind the counter when a friend and I walked through the door:

(courtesy of FoodMayhem)

Keste pizzaiolo Roberto Caporuscio! We both did a double take upon seeing one another, and neither of us understood what the other was doing so far from home. I had just stopped in at Keste days before leaving for Chicago to see the man himself and grab one of his killer Margheritas. I am totally kicking myself, but in my stupor of such a coincidence I completely forgot to get a shot of him manning the oven (idiot!).

Check out that sweet custom oven! That bushel of grain is Spacca's logo designed by Jon's partner Ginny Skyles. Shortly after being seated, we were served a dish that any Keste regular would recognize-

I'm embarrassed to say, but I have no idea what this is called (anyone care to enlighten me?). Roberto whips these up and throws a combo of great toppings on top, ranging from squash and mozzarella to Marscapone and fennel. In this case, he made one with broccoli rabe, mozzarella and sausage. Yum!

Shortly thereafter, Roberto returned with Jon (a native New Yorker) to chat about Chicago pizza and gave me some additional recommendations while in town. Since the pizza menu was split between red and white pies and we were completely undecided, we decided to get one of each, starting of course with the Margherita:

This pizza was extremely tasty, but by no means life-changing in my opinion. After a while, it becomes hard to differentiate most Neapolitan pizzas from one another, especially when they are under the strict certification of the Vera Pizza Napoletana and there is little room to deviate from guidelines. Next up was our white pie, which features mozzarella, arugula, shaved Parmesan and Proscuitto:

This pie was the winner and tasted extremely fresh. After taking a bite, I realized this was one ingredient away from Paulie Gee's famous Parma d'Or, lacking only the fresh-squeezed lemon on top.

Something to note- of piles of leftovers I was forced to bring back to my gracious hosts while pizza hunting around the city, I think this pie held up the best. That being said, it's a no-brainer that this pizza is best consumed straight out of the oven.

Spacca Napoli (and Roberto Caporuscio) whipped up some fantastic pies, making this my third favorite pizzeria (out of 12) that I visited in Chicago.

Pizzeria Uno

2010-12-10T09:07:00.011-05:00

Well kids, I'm back from Chicago, and while I may be five pounds heavier from all the pizza, I had a total blast. The trip had a tumultuous start in which I nearly missed my flight, but alas I made it to chilly Chi-town unscathed. Where else should I begin than at the birthplace of deep-dish pizza as we know it, Pizzeria Uno?

Located on the corner of Wabash and Ohio St., former University of Texas football player Ike Sewell opened the original Pizzeria Uno in the River North region of Chicago with his partner, WWII vet Rick Ricardo in 1943.

If you can't tell from this picture, the place is pretty tiny and cramped. It's got a real cozy, authentic feel to it (unlike the hundreds of other franchised Uno's). As the story goes, Ike wanted to open a Mexican restaurant in Chicago since the city had none to offer, but his friend Rick, having just returned from fighting fascists and nomming slices in Italy, insisted they open a pizzeria.

Only one problem: neither Ike nor Rick knew how to make pizza. In desperation, the duo found a saucy Italian guy named Rudy Malnatti to come up with a new-fangled recipe the likes of which had never been seen- or tasted before. The rest is history, I give you the birth of the deep-dish pizza:

So what exactly is a deep-dish pizza? In most cases these pies consist of dough pressed into a 1-2 inch deep aluminum pan, followed by cheese and any additional toppings (a bit of a misnomer in this case, isn't it?), then rich, chunky tomato sauce and a sprinkling of Parmesan cheese.

What makes each pizzeria unique is what the ingredients they choose to make their dough. Comparatively, Uno has a relatively basic crust that tastes altogether bready compared to some of its other Windy City counterparts.

Both the menu and the pizza at HQ were significantly different (and simpler) from any of the Uno franchises I've ever visited. I know the chains use soybean oil in order to obtain that pastry-like consistency in the crust, but this did not seem to be the case here. No "Pizza Skins," "Avocado Rolls" or "Buffalo Chicken Quesadillas" either; just pizza, salad, and a few appetizers (the way it should be, in my opinion).

Twelve years after the creation of Uno, Sewell opened Pizzeria Due across the street to accommodate the crowds, and ten years after that, finally opened his Mexican restaurant, Su Casa. While it was refreshing to see that Uno's relatively-new corporate owners left the flagship restaurant untouched, the original Pizzeria Uno left me wanting more.

CHICAGO.

2010-12-01T09:21:00.003-05:00

Well ladies and gentlemen, you must forgive my lack November material, but between scarfing at least a slice-a-day in October and what I knew was coming this first week in December, I had to take a little pie-atus or pie-bernation (oh man, I've gotta stop).

(courtesy of Pamparius)

That's right, I'm heading to Chicago, Chi-town, The Windy City, whatever you want to call it- in search of the best pizzas in town. The list of pizzerias to visit is daunting, the pies are bolder than any other, and I may not come back alive.

In the meantime, send me your favorite spots to hit (I think I have most of 'em covered), otherwise I'll see ya in 10 lbs.

National Pizza Month 2010

2010-11-02T13:59:00.012-04:00

Woof. That's the word that best encapsulates my experience eating (at least) a slice a day this past 31 days for National Pizza Month. My goal was simple: eat a slice a day at a different pizzeria each day, no repeats. For fairness, I avoided toppings and stuck to plain slices at slice joints (with the exception of Frank Pepe's and Bar Pizza). Take a look at the cross section of pies, ranging from delicious-looking to yak-inducing-

October 1st: Pizza Box - 176 Bleecker St., Manhattan

October 2nd: Vinny's Pizza - 148 Bedford Ave., Brooklyn

October 3rd: Two Boots - 74 Bleecker St., Manhattan

October 4th: Joe's - 7 Carmine St., Manhattan

October 5th: Pizza Suprema - 413 8th Ave., Manhattan

October 6th: Gino's Pizza - 218 Flatbush Ave., Brooklyn

October 7th: Eden - 166 N. 7th St., Brooklyn

October 8th: Pizza Booth - 165 Bleecker St., Manhattan

October 9th: Pizza Moto - Lafayette & Vanderbilt Ave. (Brooklyn Flea), Brooklyn

October 10th: V&M Pizza Town - 85 5th Ave., Brooklyn

October 11th: L&B Spumoni Gardens - 2725 86th St., Brooklyn

October 12th: Bleecker Street Pizza - 69 7th Ave., Manhattan

October 13th: Ben's Pizza (Greenwich Village) - 123 MacDougal St., Manhattan

October 14th: Anna Maria - 179 Bedford Ave., Brooklyn

October 15th: Francesco's Pizza - 140 W. 4th St., Manhattan

October 16th: Rocket Joe's - 61 Delancey St., Manhattan

October 17th: Anthony's Pizzeria - 426 7th Ave., Brooklyn

October 18th: Ben's Pizza (SoHo) - 177 Spring St., Manhattan

October 19th: Phil's Pizza - 226 Varick St., Manhattan

October 20th: Artichoke Basille's - 328 E. 14th St., Manhattan

October 21st: Cafe Amore - 319 6th Ave., Manhattan

October 22nd: Bella Napoli - 150 W. 49th St., Manhattan

October 23rd: Rose & Joe's - 2240 31st. St., Queens

October 24th: Bergen Pizza - 67 6th Ave., Brooklyn

October 25th: Little Italy Pizza - 55 W. 45th St., Manhattan

October 26th: Famous Ray's - 465 6th Ave., Manhattan

October 27th: Stromboli Pizzeria - 112 University Place, Manhattan

October 28th: 99¢ Fresh Pizza - 388 6th Ave., Manhattan

October 29th: Z Pizza - 298 Bleecker St., Manhattan

October 30th: Frank Pepe's - 157 Wooster St., New Haven, CT

October 31st: Bar Pizza - 254 Crown St., New Haven, CT

While my adventure may not seem so daunting spread out across an entire month, I was beginning to feel like a pizza in my last week of eating (not sure if that's a good or a bad thing...), so I can't even imagine what Nick Sherman felt like eating nothing but pizza for a month.

What was the best slice you ask? (you are asking, right?) Taste is in the mouth of the beholder, but there was no beating Bleecker St. Pizza, though it had an unfair advantage: since there weren't any plain slices available, I had a slice of their 'Nonna Maria' pie which added garlic and basil. That being the case, the runner-up is Joe's.

On the other side of the spectrum, there were a lot of uninspiring slices (to put it nicely). If I had to chose a worst slice, it's gotta be Little Italy's which put me into a wretched pizza coma from a single slice. It takes a lot for me to get queasy from a slice, but this one put my vom-reflexes to the test. Grosstown city.

If I learned one thing from my slice-capade it's this: this town has too many great pizza joints to ever have a bad slice.

Metro Pizza

2010-10-06T18:47:00.004-04:00

Here's a question I've often asked myself: where can one gamble away all your money in a matter of minutes, drink openly on the street, find just enough money lying around to buy two pizzas and four beers, all while sweating to 110 degree heat?

Las Vegas, of course! Earlier this summer I found myself in Sin City for work, and what business trip is complete without sampling some of the local pizza fare, ammiright? Before embarking, I knew my top priority would be Metro Pizza, established in 1928 in it's early form by the fathers of John Arena and his cousin Sam Facchini.

(courtesy of Metro Pizza)

In 1980, John and Sam ironically left New York City and bought "Original New York Pizza" in Las Vegas, which would eventually become Metro Pizza. There's a great interview with John on Pizza Therapy; I really admire the guy's devotion to pizza and making a quality product.

Penny Pollack and Jeff Ruby listed Metro Pizza in the nation's top 10 pizzerias in their book Everybody Loves Pizza- and one look at Metro's menu might give you an idea why: on a similar but completely different note to Tony's Pizza Napoletana in San Fran, Metro offers an impressive variety of pizza styles.

Along with their own unique style of pizza, John and Sam offer Chicago-style stuffed pizza, speciality pies inspired by pizzerias across the globe, and classic New York-Neapolitan pizzas a la Lombardi's and Patsy's back east. That being said, I don't think I visited the "right" Metro Pizza, which was located inside of a combination casino/motel/brewpub.

I knew instantly that something was amiss when I took a seat (one of about 10) after ordering, but was told I had to move if I wasn't a paying customer of the adjoining budget steakhouse. This was primarily a take-out only joint, and its menu sadly did not have the latitude that their website (and presumably other locations) suggests. Oh well, I ordered two personal pies: one plain, one sausage, and two beers. And yes, I was alone, just me, myself and pint.

25 minutes later, here it is: very cheesy, very bubbly, and very... good. I know, it doesn't look like a pizza from a top-tier pizzeria (and it's probably the exception considering their impressive menu), but it was shockingly light and perfectly cooked.

This combined with another two beers (on the house!) I was given once my pizzas arrived (did I mention it was buy one-get one Tuesday?) brought my total tab of two pizzas and four beers to... $11.28. WHAT?! As weird as this place was, I loved every part of it.

Would I rank Metro in the top 10 of American pizzerias? From this visit, no, but I won't rest until I return and have the proper sit-down Metro Pizza experience.

Zero Otto Nove

2010-10-06T18:43:00.004-04:00

My beloved pie-eyed followers, I have returned! My goodness have I lost track of time, and just in time for my favorite time of year- the leaves are changing color, the weather is just chilly enough to wrap yourself up in your favorite cozy hoody, and there's an excuse to eat pizza everyday for NATIONAL PIZZA MONTH!

Not too long ago I trekked up to the Bronx's Italian neighborhood near east 187th st. (yikes that's a hike!) to the area's pizza-dominated street, Arthur Avenue. Sitting amongst legendary pizzerias like Mario's and Coals lies Zero Otto Nove, or 089.

Despite a full-fledged neighborhood street fair happening just around the corner, I was able to get into ZON without too much of a hassle. After a refreshing Stella at the bar, I was tapped by the hostess and led through a cramped, dimly-lit hallway to the main dining area, and boy was I taken back when I got to my table-

The entire restaurant is styled just like a back alley in Naples, complete with faux-posters advertising imaginary events, forced perspective, street lamps and fake windows!

These pictures truly don't do the space justice; the place is very dark and there wasn't enough light to use my wide-angle lens, but just to give you an idea of the capacity of the joint, there's a second story, complete with a balcony:

You sure don't see this everyday in New York; in fact I can't even imagine what it would cost for a place this big in Manhattan. What's nice is the fancifully-deco'd oven, which commands the attention of the entire dining area. I'm not sure who makes the oven (Acunto?), but it's absolutely smashing, and there's nothing I love more than a pizzeria with the oven in plain view. It's kind of like when a magician rolls his sleeves up before a trick to prove there's nothing awry.

I was pretty damn hungry, so I didn't screw around and ordered right away: a Margherita (surpirsed?) and the "patate salsiccia e provola," aka a white pie with smoked mozzarella, sliced potatoes, and sausage.

Beautiful! Another thing I love: six slices instead of the usual four typical with most Neapolitan-style pizza. The pies were out in a jiffy (as they should be), but I really cannot express how sharp the wait staff is at ZON. The place was jam-packed, and yet seemingly every time I took a sip of my water it was instantly refilled. Attentive, but not pushy or too aggressive.

Seriously, look how gorgeous this pie is! I should explain at this point that "089" is the area code of Salerno, Italy- the birthplace of restaurant founder Roberto Paciullo. Salerno has even garnered its own variation style on the Neapolitan pie, typically crispier and thinner in the middle (if you can believe that's even possible to make a Neapolitan pie thinner).

Immediately after the Margherita arrived, so did the other pie:

Disclaimer: I only ordered the sausage on half, this isn't standard. Another fine looking pizza, waiting to be scarfed.

Just about halfway through housing the pizza, a nice young gentleman stopped by the table just to make sure everything was to our liking- another impressive sign of pizza professionalism. Check.

While Zero Otto Nove may be a bit over the top with its decor; some may even call the style too cheesy (ha!), but I'd be lying if I didn't, if not for just a moment, feel convinced I was chowing down on authentic Salerno pizza in a moody back alley in Italy.

Diss it or dig it, there is no denying one thing: Roberto has got not just a great pizza, but a great restaurant on his hands, and it is absolutely worth a trip, no matter where you're coming from.

Greenpoint Open Studios: Pie Bake-Off!

2010-09-21T11:41:00.003-04:00

Hey New Yorkuhs! This Thursday at 7pm, Greenpoint Open Studios is hosting a Pie Bake-Off fundraiser at The Diamond, and yours truly is submitting my eponymous pizza, the Pizza Commander, with a twist. What kind of twist? Come out and drop $10 for a good cause to find out!

I know this event is more geared towards traditional pies, but I'm not one to follow the rules.

Great beer, a raffle, prizes, and pies- your Thursday night just got awesome.

The Copper Oven

2010-07-24T16:51:00.008-04:00

A few months back I got a nice email from a guy named Seth who complimented the blog and mentioned he ran a pizzeria called The Copper Oven in upstate New York. "That's great," I told him, "I head up to my friend's lake house outside Ithaca every summer, are you nearby?"

"Actually we're about a half hour north of Ithaca..." At this time I started realizing that all of Seth's ingredients are locally sourced from towns I was familiar with. "We're in a small town called Ovid." That was exactly where I was heading- Ovid, population 612. What are the odds?

There's Seth on the left with The Copper Oven's namesake. The pizzeria is situated on the gorgeous Cayuga Ridge Estate Winery on Cayuga Lake. Seth and his wife Mary Jane opened TCO this year shortly after acquiring their beautiful oven, a Le Panyol coated in, of course, copper.

I've never come across an oven I can see my reflection in! This thing is stunning, and to top it off it's on wheels making the whole rig completely portable.

The tiles and brick are made from organic white clay which has excellent heat refractory qualities and allows Seth and MJ to whip up pies like this-

As I mentioned earlier, TCO uses local ingredients and toppings when available, even pulling fresh herbs straight from their garden. Ladies and gentlemen, the locavore movement is in full effect, and I'm lovin' it.

Here's MJ whippin' up a pizza for me and my buds. Seth and MJ have a good system going in which she rolls out and preps the pies, then runs them outside for Seth fire up.

Generally The Copper Oven has two different pies to choose from on any given day- one of which is usually vegetarian. I had to try both, but I started with the Cream of Mushroom Soup pizza.

This is a new one on me, but who doesn't love cream of mushroom soup? Why didn't anyone think of this sooner? Who cares, it exists now and Seth & MJ nailed it. It's a white pie with a créme fraiche base, Parmesan cheese, chanterelle mushrooms, and fresh garlic scapes and chives from the garden.

Perfectly balanced, not too heavy, not too creamy. I wanted another, but I knew I still had to try the Prosciutto pizza:

This pie is similar to the mushroom pizza, but it substitutes the mushrooms for Prosciutto cotto followed by a drizzling of balsamic vinaigrette.

I dig the creative flavor combos happening on this pizza and mercilessly wolfed it down with a spectacular glass of wine.

The Cayuga Ridge Estate Winery was just awarded "Best Riesling of the New World" in Germany for their 2008 Riesling. You know me, I don't know my wine for anything, but it tasted great so I grabbed a bottle for the road (but not before order two more pizzas).

A few weeks back Seth and MJ featured my visit on their blog; I've been treated like such a pizza celebrity! I'm so stoked Seth reached out to me urging me to visit his truly unique pizzeria. I really loved everything about The Copper Oven- the pizza, the location, and especially the hospitality. Will I be back next summer?

You betchya.

Tommaso's

2010-06-28T20:56:00.005-04:00

Located halfway between Cafe Zoetrope and Tony's Pizza Napoletana in North Beach, San Fran, is the west coast's oldest brick oven pizzeria, Tommaso's.

Built in 1935 by the Cantolupo family from Naples (where else?), they aptly named the place Lupo's and started firing pies in their oven. The pizzeria became increasingly popular after G.I.'s returned from Italy after WWII having had pizza overseas, and quickly rose to Bay Area fame amongst city eaters.

A plaque adorns the front of the restaurant, just in case you thought I was making this shit up. I wish I could find the picture to prove it, but local resident Francis Ford Coppola used to frequent Lupo's, and on special occasions would take over making pizzas. I'm not making that shit up either.

In '71, the Cantolupo family sold the joint to one of their loyal employees, Tommy Chin, who had been working at Lupo's since the year after they opened back in the day. Mr. Chin decided to rename the place after himself, that is, if he were a Neapolitan. Thus, Lupo's became Tommaso's.

Chin sold the place several years later to the current owners, the Crotti's, one of whom was my server. When I say the place is family owned and operated, I mean it. I love that in a pizzeria.

I ordered a half plain/half meatball. Odd topping I know, but it was pretty tasty. The place is notoriously dimly lit, so please forgive the poor exposure on these photos.

I'd be lying if I said the pizza at Tommaso's was incredible, but it sure ain't bad. It's slightly thicker than your average NY-style pie; it kind of reminded me of Pizzeria Regina in Boston.

Would I go back? Absolutely. The pizza was tasty, and the place has soul. I'm a pretty happy, easy-going guy, but nothing gets me down like a pizzeria with no soul. When I stepped back out into the bright sunlight, I had to round out my documentation of both Tommaso's and San Francisco in general in an east-meets-west fashion, representing my favorite soulful Brooklyn pizzeria.

Bridging the gap. Cheers!

Cafe Zoetrope

2010-06-28T20:53:00.004-04:00

Sitting boldly on the cusp of San Francisco's Little Italy (North Beach), Financial District and Chinatown rises Columbus Tower, a gorgeous aged copper edifice circa 1907 designed in a similar vein to New York's Flatiron building. Within these green-tinged walls lies a landmark to two things I hold dear: pizza and movies.

Aside from being one of the coolest-looking buildings in the greater San Fran area, this place is also the original headquarters of American Zoetrope, the independent film company founded by the godfather of filmmaking himself, Francis Ford Coppola. Ever heard of Apocalypse Now? How about the Godfather trilogy or The Conversation? Yeah, the picture editing and soundtrack recording were all done right here.

If you're familiar with FFC then you know he's a wine maker as well (too bad he's not a home brewer, but that's still pretty sick). Being the revolutionary entrepreneur that he is, Francis opened Cafe Zoetrope ten years ago as a venue for his wine tastings, as well as a place to exhibit his line of food products and style of Italian home cooking.

The place is lined with some of the coolest photos and memorabilia from his films. I was told I could take pictures of the pizza, but not pictures of the pictures... okay then. Just imagine this as a Francis Ford Coppola/Godfather museum- I was humbled as a filmmaker, to say the least. In fashion with the myriad pizzerias in San Fran, Zoetrope of course cooks up pies, so I ordered a Margherita w/ mozzarella di bufala while I watched the world cup.

Not too shabby lookin', but upon closer inspection... where the hell is the cheese?

It's on there, just barely. This pizza was definitely cooked in a gas oven, and with such small blobs of cheese used it looked (and tasted) like half of them evaporated.

That being said, the tomato sauce had plenty of juicy sweet flavor. The basil could have used a dousing of olive oil before being tossed in the oven; you can see how dried and shriveled it looks.

Overall Zoetrope's pizza was nothing to write home about (but isn't that what I'm doing?), but I've certainly had worse. Combined with the early afternoon wine, watching the cup, being the only patron in the place, and the awe-inspiring decor, I have no regrets having visited Cafe Zoetrope.

Liguria Bakery

2010-06-28T20:30:00.006-04:00

Sitting quietly on the corner of Stockton and Filbert in San Fran's predominantly Italian North Beach district lies one of the city's oldest bakeries specializing in focaccia, Liguria Bakery.

Just one block north of Tony's Pizza Napoletana, Liguria disguises itself as what most unaware passerby would consider to be a vacant storefront. On the contrary, this place hasn't been occupied by anyone but the Soracco family since 1911. For those inept at mathematics, that's 99 years!

After the infamous San Francisco earthquake of 1906, a man named Ambrosio Saracco immigrated from Genoa, Italy and shortly thereafter bought and opened Liguria Bakery in 1911. He sent for his brothers back home to follow in his footsteps, and in no time had a full-fledged bakery on his hands. After being opened just shy of a century, I can't believe how much the place has changed-

...or hasn't changed. I wish I had a wider shot here, but essentially the place is exactly the same save for a coat of white paint. Michael Soracco, Ambrosio's grandson, is the current owner of Liguria, and still employs his family to hawk their famous focaccia.

WOW. Look at the size of this monstrosity of an oven. It's bigger than your average New York apartment! Notice the extremely long peels hanging from the ceiling to give you some sense of scale. Check that nozzle-looking thing out on the right edge of the even. It's a goddamn flamethrower!

I didn't make it to Liguria in time to catch them baking, but essentially this flame gun is on a swivel that is pulled over to the mouth of the oven, where it blasts 800 degree heat into the chamber for an extended period of time. Just before the bread is popped in, the flame is killed and moved off to the side.

I love this packaging. When I left my hotel at 10:30 AM I hightailed it in my zipcar over to Liguria- they say they're open until 12, but more realistically they close when they sell out of focaccia. And they always sell out of focaccia. Just to be safe, I called ahead and told them my predicament, and pleaded with them to save me something. "All we got left is raisin and pizza, whichya want?" She clearly didn't know who she was speaking to.

If only I had put my hand in the shot to display just how massive this thing is. No, this isn't a slice, this is about half the size of a traditional Sicilian-style pizza (!!!)

Eating this gave me the feeling I was eating San Fran's incarnation of a Trenton tomato pie since it was served at room temperature. The sauce was just sweet enough that no cheese was need.

I ripped this thing apart, I wish I had some right now. It's so great to see a true mom and pop place thriving in the same fashion it did when it opened a hundred years ago.

Pizzeria Picco

2010-06-28T20:28:00.007-04:00

After killing those slices at The Cheese Board in Berkeley, I decided to head north and explore Sausalito and Napa Valley. I'm going to be blunt with you- I am a beer guy, and no matter how hard I try, I never learn anything about wine. I enjoy it just fine, but given the choice I'll always choose suds. That being said, I took a quick tour of the Mondavi winery before heading back south, eventually stopping in Larkspur to check out the much-hyped Pizzeria Picco.

Founded by Bruce Hill five years ago, the pizzeria gets its name from the Italian word for 'hill' or 'peak,' a combination of the fact that Picco sits on a slope overlooking Larkspur in conjunction with the founder's last name.

Picco's got a nice funky style befitting the vibe emanating from the charming town it inhabits. In typical California style, nearly all the toppings were fresh, local, and organic. Contrary to this, I was caught off guard when I was told Picco flash freezes all their pizzas to be baked at home. Wha?? I'm curious to see how that would work...

This place really isn't all that big, sporting a few inside seats at the bar/kitchen, and a few tables outside. The brick oven is conveniently built into and tucked away in the corner to make maximum use of what space they have. The building itself is shared with Bruce's other restaurant, simply named Picco. Unsure of what to get, I ordered three different guys-

Of course I had to get the obligatory Margherita. The flavors on this pie were tasty but not earth-shattering. While the flavor of the basil didn't quite come out strong, the sauce was perfectly sweet and cheese had a nice salty taste to it. Granted this was cooked in a brick oven versus gas, but Delfina could stand to learn a lesson in flavor from Picco.

Next on the list was the "Son of Yeti" - a white four-cheese pie (mozz, Fontina, Pecorino, and Parmesan) with garlic, leeks, thyme, and hen of the woods mushrooms.

This pie tasted great and it had that organic feeling that the ingredients were picked right from the backyard, with the strong Fontina holding everything together.

Just as I was satiating my appetite, the waitress beleaguered me with the third and by far the heaviest pizza of the three, the Specialized, named after the nearby bicycle company-

Here we have tomato sauce, mozz, Hobb's pepperoni, house-made sausage and basil. Woof. Thankfully Picco sports three-tiered pizza pan... holders (?) keeping the small tables as clutter-free as possible.

I did as much damage as I could on this before eventually asking to relegate the remains to a box, but I'm pretty proud of the assault I launched on these pizzas. Picco definitely has it going on and is one of Larkspur's best kept secrets, but they could definitely stand to expand.

Cheese Board

2010-06-28T20:24:00.008-04:00

After asking around town what the essential pizzerias were I had to try while in the Bay Area, I kept getting the same answer: "Cheese Board!!"

The Cheese Board Pizza Collective lies on Shattuck Avenue, one of the main thoroughfares in the college town of Berkeley. It gets its name from the cheese store next door, which boasts the most impressive selection of cheese I've ever seen-

Cheese louise! I love how this staggering list of cheese is perfectly organized by type and animal. When I first saw this I just stood there staring for a few minutes. So that's where the first part of the name comes from; the second portion is exactly what it sounds like: both the Cheese Board and the Cheese Board Pizzeria are co-ops, collectively owned by its employees

How effing cool is that? If you're over 100 years old in Berkeley you get free cheese! As soon as the doors opened to the pizzeria I started snapping photos and calling attention to myself. Some places (*cough* Grimaldi's *cough*) freak at the sight of cameras, so I was apprehensive when the guy behind the counter said, "hey, you takin' pictures?" I sheepishly admitted to doing so, but was pleasantly surprised when he practically dragged me into their kitchen and introduced me to Steve Manning.

This is Steve slicing up a massive amount of low-moisture mozz. Steve has been a member of the Cheese Board for eight years, and as an amateur photographer himself he was more than happy to show me around the place and chat me up. The Cheese Board's gimmick is that it only creates one (sauceless) style of pizza a day. No substitutions.

"Why is that?" I asked. The answer is simple, really. Sticking to one pizza allows for several streamlined advantages: this allows the board to buy high quality ingredients in bulk, cutting down on cost to provide their customers with the best toppings for the cheapest price.

This, combined with the "no tomato sauce" edict, also allows them to pre-make all the pizzas the day before. FYI, leaving tomato sauce for a prolonged period on dough turns what would be a great pizza into a soggy, sloppy disc of gross.

This ultimately lets each of the employees/members specialize in one area: register, baking, dough prep, cheese slicing, etc. Pretty impressive in my opinion. I had never seen ovens like the ones being used at CB, but they're essentially gas ovens with "suicide"-style doors with room for 4-5 pies to cook at a time.

How the pizzas at the top of the oven come out as consistent as the ones in the center is beyond me, but a wall of these suckers provides this place with the ability to rapid fire pizzas into and out of the oven.

I ordered two slices of the pie of the day, which was mozzarella, Crimini mushrooms, onions, goat cheese and garlic olive oil, and it came with my favorite garnishment:

An extra mini slice of pizza! This is typical of Cheese Board, though I couldn't get anyone to explain why this tradition exists. I didn't want to push it- I'll take a free slice any day.

CB has one of the coolest vibes I've ever experienced in a pizzeria. Almost as soon as the doors opened that afternoon, a jazz band set up in back and started jamming away. I was informed that music performers become temporary members of the Cheese Board for one day, and make the same amount as the rest of the staff for that given day. HOW. COOL.

The Cheese Board sits exactly across the street from Alice Waters' legendary restaurant and arguably the birthplace of California-style pizza, Chez Panisse. While I only had time to visit one or the other, I opted for style over historical significance, and I have no regrets.

The fantastic pizza (I went back for another slice and a half) combined with the Cheese Board's welcoming laid-back attitude and unique communal business model made it my favorite pizza joint in the Bay Area, and would love to see something like this back here in the East.

Pizza Hacker

2010-06-28T20:19:00.010-04:00

As any die-hard bake-at-home pizza maker can tell you, the output capacity of your typical conventional home oven doesn't come close to that of a beautiful, WFO (wood-fired oven). Many people, myself included, are constantly looking for ways to "hack" their home ovens, with tricks ranging from clipping the self-clean lock to installing an overdrive "pizza mode" switch in an effort to get hotter temps similar to wood-burning ovens.

(courtesy of Eric Wolfinger)

Enter Jeff Krupman, aka "The Pizza Hacker." This guy is the quintessential pizza bad-ass.

This guy has reached legendary status in my book, which is albeit a grease-stained, pizza-icon filled book. This is Jeff with one of his incarnations of the famed "FrankenWeber/PizzaForge," his mobile "brick oven."

Over the past couple of years, Jeff has been modifying a basic Weber grill by extending its height to allow for wood to burn and increasing the conductivity and heat retention to closer resemble the properties in a brick oven using perlite and refractory cement. Impressive, to say the least.

In planning my trip out west, Scott said I had to check PH, with whom he'd connected with just a few months prior in his own San Fran pizza exploration. Deciding whether or not to give Jeff a chance wasn't the issue- it was finding him. The genius of Pizza Hacker's operation is his mobility that gives him the freedom to set up an impromptu pizzeria anywhere in the Bay Area, which can also be frustrating when you're craving his legendary pies. Fortunately, you can follow him on twitter or keep tabs on his whereabouts here.

Jeff has an awe-inspiring view on pizza. He starts all of his pies by sprinkling black, smoked salt on the crust- something you really have to try. His outlook is that the outer crust shouldn't be a continuation of the pizza, but a totally new experience, and that's exactly what he's accomplishing.

Despite Jeff's disappointment with some of the selection of local mozzarella, he uses predominantly local ingredients, even picking his own tomatoes. Respect.

This is Pizza Hacker making me the "Bi-Rite Hotty," named after the eponymous local market where he bought the meat- sauce, mozz, hot Italian sausage, pickled hot peppers, basil and EVOO. This combo of fresh toppings was both jaw-dropping and tongue-scathing.

Just like New York's food pimp the "Lobster Pusher Man,"Jeff has it all- great food, rave reviews, and notoriety, except for one thing: a permit to sell food. While this might make some uneasy, Pizza Hacker has been able to fly in the face of San Fran's flawed street vendor policies without a problem (knock on wood), and if anything it adds to the allure.

A talented pizzaiolo that shows up outside bars at night with nothing but his oven, ingredients and a miner's headlamp to make pies at the drop of a hat? Pizza Hacker didn't just create the FrankenWeber, I like to think he's starting a revolution.

Delfina Pizzeria

2010-06-28T20:07:00.006-04:00

After a long-overdue rendezvous with a friend of mine in Haight-Ashbury, I made my way north through some of San Fran's most iconic neighborhoods, including the Castro, the Mission, and eventually Pacific Heights.

Seeing this row of homes, or "painted ladies" as they're called, made me feel like I was in an episode of Full House. While I didn't see any of the Tanner family, I did find one of the city's most talked-about pizza joints, Delfina Pizzeria.

Craig and Anne Stoll opened Pizzeria Delfina five years ago just down the block from their successful Italian restaurant, Delfina. The location I went to on California St. (a second Delfina is in the Mission on 18th st.) had a fun fresh vibe that felt very, well, Californian-

The place reminded me of what I wish Co. was like, or could be. It's very modern but without being too cramped and stuffy. The front of the space has a large open window that gives the whole pizzeria a nice breezy and welcoming feel. Going along with the decor, a rad mural of the Golden Gate adorns the wall.

I bet you're wondering just what those sprouting stick-like things are seen in these pictures- at first I thought they were those diffusion air fresheners, but was delighted to realize they were something completely different:

Thin, crunchy breadsticks! Sweet! Each table sports a bunch of these, as well as a small plate of the go-t0 pizza condiments- red pepper flakes, dried oregano, and Parmesan. I'm not one to really use any of these unless in cases of flavorless emergency; I think the pizza should speak for itself. I've never seen anything quite like this, and I really dig it.

Two of the righteous cooks here turned out to be from Bucks County, PA, my home county! Bonus points. Delfina Pizzeria is a concoction of Craig Stoll's memories of both New York and Neapolitan pizza. This makes sense considering the pies are Neapolitan-style cooked in gas deck ovens.

While I admire the blend of styles, it couldn't rescue an otherwise bland pizza. It really pains me to say this, because both the pizza and pizzeria are gorgeous and unique in their own right.

Delfina uses fresh and local ingredients which were clearly noticeable in the pie's presentation alone, but for whatever reason there was almost no flavor to be found anywhere across the pizza.

The pie was well-cooked, but done so in an interesting way. Craig punches down large impressions in the crust, similar to those seen in a pie crust on a larger scale. The idea behind this is to push the gas in the crust into small pockets that rise in the oven, creating crisp, charred bubbles once the pizza comes out of the oven.

Maybe it was a bad day, maybe I'd been eating too much pizza (impossible, I know), but I was underwhelmed by the pies at Delfina. However I seem to stand alone in my opinion, as the place is wildly popular.

I'm just glad they had the condiments at the ready.

Tony's Pizza Napoletana

2010-06-28T20:04:00.005-04:00

After letting my stomach settle from an awful slice, it was time to hit up one of San Fran's most reputable and talked-about spots, Tony's Pizzeria Napoletana in the Bay Area's Little Italy, North Beach.

I will admit that I was really stoked to check out Tony's, as it is unique in so many ways. In short, Tony's eponymous owner, Tony Gemignani, is a multiple award-winning pizzaiolo and "acrobatic dough thrower."

(courtesy of SF Gate)

Gemignani founded Pyzano's with his brother back in '91 at the age of 18, where he first started throwing dough and making pies. Several years later he was kicking ass in competitions all over the world in both dough-throwing and pizza-making competitions, and was the main subject in the doc "Pizza the Movie."

Tony opened this place up just over a year ago and has been getting rave reviews from just about every lucky SOB that walks in for a pie. The joint was jam-packed when I got there, so I grabbed a beer (Yuengling- on the west coast! I was already stricken) and waited for a table. I was devastated when the hostess informed me that Tony was out of town for his wedding anniversary during my entire SF visit. "Bummer" does not do the situation justice.

Tony is no doubt a pizza madman- he has four (FOUR!) different ovens at his place, allowing him to establish a pizzeria I have always dreamed of: a collection of the world's best regional pizzas.

He's got a killer WFO burning at 900 degrees that cranks out some of the most beautiful-looking Neapolitan-style pizzas I've ever pointed my lens at-

This is his award-winning Margherita, of which only 73 are made on a given night. Staring at this picture I wish I had ordered one, but I'm happy with the decision I made. Tony's also rocks a domed gas brick oven, flat top gas brick oven, and standard gas deck oven (WOW). Using this fleet of machines, Tony offers customers New Haven-style pies, NY thin crust pizzas, Sicilian squares, Trenton tomato pies, and Roman al metro, amongst others.

After staring at the menu for what felt like hours, I was compelled to order one of the coolest effing pizzas I've ever seen, Tony's Piccola Roman, a three course Roman-style pizza-

The first third (at bottom) is the antipasti- mozzarella, cherry tomatoes, olives, garlic and basil.

Moving on, the "main course" is sliced salami, arugula, mozzarella and shaved Parmesan...

...followed by desert- fig preserves, Gorgonzola and prosciutto (similar but not quite as flavorful as Paulie Gee's Cherry Jones). I regret being too hungry to snap of photo of the last third of the pie, but you get the idea. Though I missed Tony in person, we spoke over the phone once I was back East. The guy is super personable and teased me with an off-handed mention of considering opening a place in New York (YES PLEASE).

Despite the over-abundance of pizzerias in the Big Apple, I'm positive a Tony's would thrive here.

Blondie's

2010-06-28T20:02:00.006-04:00

Let me tell you about one of the worst slices of pizza I've ever had.

Not long after landing in San Francisco, I decided to check out my new neighborhood I'd be spending the next five days in, which was in and around Union Square if you're familiar with the city. After wandering around aimlessly for several hours and getting my fill of quaint trolley pictures, I saw Blondie's Pizza across the street.

I knew immediately that this was not the Blondie's- the Blondie's always in contention with its die-hard rival Fat Slice in nearby Berkeley, CA. No, but it was a Blondie's, one of only two locations in existence. Knowing I probably wasn't going to go out of my way to check out what I've heard is a mediocre pizzeria while in Berkeley, I figured I was hungry and I may as well give this place a shot.

BAD IDEA. If the self-proclaimed "HEALTHIEST MEAL IN SAN FRANCISCO" is any inclination, this place is pizza purgatory. Just in case this menu isn't busy and confusing enough for you, here's another!

Sei formaggi (six cheese)? What? Deep dish-style slice? WHAT?! That doesn't even make any sense, my head just exploded. It's as if this place took the best of every part of different regional pizzas, ate it, and then shit it back out onto the most headache-inducing menu ever created. Just to play it "safe," I ordered a plain slice:

"Woof" doesn't do this thing justice. I can tell this is going to be painful just looking at it. The sauce division between the sheet of white cheese and the loaf of bread they deem a crust looks like Freddy Krueger's face.

Good thing it's cooked well underneath, we wouldn't want this slice to lack any support for the pound of sauce and cheese on top. Oh wait-

What the hell is this? If you look closely at me trying to attempt a NY fold, you'll notice that my fingers are actually oozing through the under crust just trying to grasp this thing. This is grotesque. Despite my better efforts, this is what the slice looked before I threw it in the nearest trash can:

Grotie to the MAXX. Granted this isn't the famous Blondie's found on the campus of UC Berkeley, but there is no excuse for this piece of shit. May Gennaro Lombardi have mercy on the souls of anyone diggin' on this slice.

Wolfgang Puck

2010-06-28T19:59:00.004-04:00

Okay, so I might lose a little credibility on this one, but hear me out alright?

After waking up at 4:52 A.M., throwing all my crap in a duffel bag, and sleepwalking through the security checkpoint at JFK, I found myself, well, starving. I had about an hour to kill before boarding my flight out to San Francisco, and was in need of some semblance of a breakfast. I eventually located a small food court featuring three options: Burger King, a shuttered Chinese restaurant, and...

I winced. Was I really about to do this? One quick glance at the wrapped "breakfast sandwiches" sitting under the heat lamp at BK confirmed where my breakfast was coming from. The first thing that I noticed was the oven at WPE (yes, I just abbreviated Wolfgang Puck Express. Please don't follow suit) was the oven- a Woodstone

Not too shabby. This is a gas-assisted brick oven that has been gaining in popularity amongst pizzeria owners. In fact, I've seen them at places like La Villa and Black Sheep, which means they can turn out some sick pizzas if they're made correctly.

Quick pizza history lesson: Wolfgang Puck opened Spago in 1982 after meeting Ed LaDou in San Francisco. At this point, Alice Waters had opened Chez Panisse 11 years earlier, arguably inventing "California-style pizza." Wolfgang recruited Ed after trying one of his pies and brought him down to Southern Cali, where Ed invented over 200 crazy pizzas using the fine ingredients at his disposal at Spago. Essentially LaDou is responsible for Puck's popularity and received no recognition for this.

I was told the guy in the middle here is one of Puck's right-hand chefs who was brought in to train the staff at this WPE. As ridiculous as this may sound, I have a smidgen of respect for a franchise that still has quality control and consistency on its radar, especially after a second glance at what the BK next to me was selling. My stomach couldn't wait any longer, so I ordered a four-cheese pizza. At 6:18 in the morning.

Now with all the goddamn pizza I eat, I've spoiled myself a bit. My first impression was, "hmm, could stand a little char on the crust." Then I realized I WAS ORDERING PIZZA AT AN AIRPORT. In all fairness, aside from being a bit overly oily, this was a decent pizza.

The ingredients all tasted fresh and the pie was cooked well. Even better, it wasn't sitting in a damn cardboard box under a hot light, waiting for me to order it. No, once I ordered the staff stretched the dough and made the pizza in front of me. "Made to order" and "airport food court" don't usually end up in the same sentence together, but this time they do.

Was this one of the better pizzas I've had? Of course not, but as far as airport food goes, I could have done a hell of a lot worse.

Nick's

2010-06-27T19:37:00.006-04:00

Take a deep breath ladies and gents, because this post isn't for the feeble-minded or faint of heart. Herein, along with my review of Nick's, I will attempt to explain how New York's largest pizza dynasty came to be. If you thought the history behind Ray's was confusing, just sit tight.

I'm never this deep into Queens. In fact, it took a trip out to JFK on my way out to San Fran to finally pay Nick's of Forest Hills a visit- something I've been meaning to do for the better part of a year now. Brothers Nick and John Angelis opened Nick's in 1994, where they crank out charred pies you would never guess were baked in a gas oven.

I like to think I know my ovens, but I have no idea what the hell this thing is. Anyone care to comment? My bet is that it's a custom job made especially for Nick, allowing it to reach brick-oven temperatures of 8-900 degrees. Before I go too deep, I have more to explain. Nick has a sister named Mirene Angelis who married Nick Tsoulos, co-owner of the six franchised Patsy's pizzerias across Manhattan with Nick Pashalis (the franchise, not the original pizzeria). Take a breath and let that sink in while you check out this killer pie-

That's Nick's signature half-red/half-white pie, isn't it goddamn gorgeous? I've never seen thin basil like that before, anyone care to chime in? This is your chance to make up for not knowing what's up with Nick's oven.

Doesn't Nick's pie look strikingly similar to Angelo's? Of course it does, here's why: Nick Pashalis has a brother named John Pashalis, and John wanted to open his own brick oven pizzeria. With the help of his now extended pizza family, John opened Angelo's in 1998, named after Nick, John and Mirene's late father, Angelo Angelis, who used to own a pizzeria in Brooklyn. John uses Nick's recipe for the pies at Angelo's, and who wouldn't when his pizzas look like they came out of a coal-fired brick oven when they're really gas-fed:

I ordered Ricotta on the white half of my pie and sun dried tomatoes on the red half. Sure it sounds a little redundant, but I wanted to keep my colors separate, okay? Got a problem with that?

Hang with me, I'm almost done. Mirene Angelis, with her husband Nick Tsoulos, opened Dean's Pizzeria in the Upper West Side, while Nick Angelis opened another pizzeria Adrienne's Pizza Bar making square pies in the Financial District, all in 2006. Meanwhile in Philadelphia, Nick Pashalis and his other brother Peter open several Pietro's Coal-Oven Pizzerias with pizzas similar to that of Nick's and Angelo's.

That's it. Did I make your head explode?

Sal and Carmine's

2010-06-27T15:44:00.007-04:00

While on my way to Koronet Pizza, I decided to pay a visit, my first in fact, to the legendary Sal and Carmine's on Broadway and 102nd st. I had no idea what I was getting myself into.

Italian-born Sal Malanga and his father opened the doors to their first Upper West Side pizzeria in '59 seven blocks south on 95th st. before eventually settling at 2671 Broadway with his brother Carmine. On the outside, Sal and Carmine's is an unassuming pizza parlor with a few pies on display in front of their standard gas deck oven. In fact, the place is so unostentatious that I accidentally walked right by it.

I walked in on an 80-year-old customer arguing with the piemakers over why there weren't any pepperoni slices left. Unable to fit a word in edgewise, I motioned a "one" to one of the guys behind the counter, who threw a plain slice into the oven for a reheat without hesitation as I headed to the empty cramped dining area in back and took a seat. There hanging in the top corner was a poorly framed certificate bestowing the title of New York's best slice to Sal and Carmine's- any further out of the way and you'd never know it was there.

Two minutes later, my sloppy, seemingly undercooked slice was brought to my table. With quizzical reluctance, I took my first bite, and realized just how accurate the New York Press was with their award. This was easily one of the best slices of pizza I'd ever had.

The sauce really isn't anything revolutionary- a thin layer of cooked tomatoes akin to what you'll find on most NY slices in the city. But the crust and cheese both have a truly unique taste and a subtle but perfect amount of salt content, making Sal and Carmine's one of a kind.

I ate silently, in awe of a slice and a pizzeria that had caught me so off guard. The pizza wasn't too greasy, and the end crust is magic, with a thin crispy "shell" but a perfectly soft, chewy inside. Without thinking I went back to the front and ordered another slice. I wanted them to know how much I loved what I was eating, but I knew they could tell by the look in my eye and the urgency in my request.

(courtesy of West Side Spirit)

Sadly, Sal Malanga passed away just over a year ago, survived by piemakers Carmine and Sal's grandson Luciano, among other family. People that knew him were devastated, but have been comforted in knowing that nothing is changing. Not the pizza, nor the parlor. I finished up my slice and walked out as they closed the place behind me, just in time to catch the sunset. Though Sal may be gone, his pizza and his legacy aren't going anywhere.

Koronet Pizza

2010-06-27T15:41:00.005-04:00

What do you do when you haven't seen a friend in 13 years? Make up for lost time by going to town on one of the city's biggest slices, that's what. Rarely do I find myself as far north as 110th street in Manhattan, but Koronet Pizza and a long overdue rendezvous beckoned me hop on the uptown 1 train.

I had been hearing about this place through word of mouth since moving to the city four years ago, but could never find any information on it. Just when I was ready to relegate this place's notoriously huge slices as an urban legend, I realized that Koronet was spelled with K, not a C. Idiot!

Woof! The slices are literally bigger than your head. Thankfully my friend had the forethought to throw down her metrocard next to the slice to give it some scale, in case you didn't notice both ends falling off the edge of the greasy plate beneath it.

The slice is cooked well, though I think it could stand another minute in the oven to add some much-needed extra crispy support to its intimidating length. For the first time in a while, I really didn't know where to start when it came time to eat the thing. Good luck trying the NY fold- the tip begins to sag a good five inches before you can take a bite. Some people go for the fork, but I couldn't bring myself do that, so I clumsily lifted the end of the slice off the plate and hunched over table, practically shoveling into my mouth. I'm pretty classy, huh?

The crust has some decent flavor, but I can't really say the same for the sauce or cheese. The tomatoes tasted like over-cooked Ragu, while the cheese had coagulated into a thin yellow membrane atop the slice. That being said, Koronet isn't too shabby all around, albeit hard to eat in the beginning. At $3.25 a slice it's got to be one of the best deals in the city- you could easily fit three dollar-slices into one of these suckers.

Don't forget to check out Tom's Diner around the corner- maybe you'll see Jerry and George arguing about nothing over a cup of joe (if only). Koronet is definitely worth checking out, but bring a friend like I did- one slice might be big enough for the both of you.

John's

2010-06-27T13:39:00.007-04:00

I had just walked out of a meeting on Sullivan St. in the west village when my stomach started to growl. This really came as no surprise; while I had been jotting notes moments before, my attention was consumed by where I should go to satisfy my appetite as soon as I had the opportunity. My first inclination was to hit up Mamoun's Falafel, but my pizza conscience got the best of me when I realized how embarrassed I was that I hadn't had a legitimate pie from John's on Bleecker St.

Oh yes, the time had come. Just like it's classic New York-Neapolitan brethren, John's banner makes it plain and simple: "no slices." Let me step back for just a minute- John's, established in 1929 by John Sasso, is one of New York's (and the nation's) oldest pizzerias. After having worked for and trained with America's first official pizzaiolo Gennaro Lombardi, Sasso split off and opened his own joint just as Anthony Pero had done five years earlier with Totonno's and Pasquale Lancieri would do four years later with Patsy's, making John one of our pizza forefathers.

(courtesy of Slice / NY Times)

I know it's difficult to make out, but you can find John just above and to the right of America's pizza tree trunk, Gennaro Lombardi. The place is now owned by Bob Vittoria, a distant relative of John, though not through blood.

Again, just like Lombardi's, Totonno's, and Patsy's, John's rocks a behemoth coal-fired brick oven. Ovens like these, seen also at Totonno's, show that the building space was not a bakery in a past life, but rather that this oven was custom built and installed to fit wherever there was room for it.

Here's Scott holding up a piece of anthracite coal in the walk-in entrance to John's cellar- look beyond him to see just how much they have stored down there. Scott has a theory that John's originally existed on the southwest corner of Houston St. and Macdougal St., John's place of residence, before moving to it's current location at 287 Bleecker St.

Enough of the history, lay your eyes on this pie I ordered:

Back story and legacy aside, I knew I was staring at an instant classic the minute it was laid in front of me. Don't let the infamous carved graffiti distract you, this pizza is a thing of beauty.

The cheese is perfectly cooked on top of a sweet, tangy tomato sauce. Unlike the splotches of fresh mozzarella seen on Lombardi's pizzas or the dollops of sauce on top of the cheese at Totonno's, John's pie has a consistent, more yellow layer of cheese on top similar to a typical New York slice. That being said, nothing else about this pizza is "typical;" it's delicious.

Meanwhile in Midtown, a John's has opened in perhaps one of the most interesting spaces ever to house a pizzeria- an old church.

The Gospel Tabernacle Church was built in 1888 and where the pews once stood have been replaced by two coal ovens. While the experience is one-of-a-kind, don't be fooled: it's a tourist trap. The pizza is significantly different, and for a good reason- they're not affiliated with the original John's. The original is technically called "John's of Bleecker Street," while the knockoff just goes by "John's."

How they're able to get away with the likeness is beyond me, but you know what they say: "imitation is the highest form of flattery."

The Western Frontier: San Fran

2010-06-08T09:52:00.003-04:00

Hey pizza friends, pizza makers, pizza eaters, and pizza lovers- I'm headin to San Fran this week! What should I do and where should I eat while in the bay area? Advice extremely appreciated!

Cheers,
-pizza commander

Slice Out Hunger Fundraiser

2010-05-28T03:19:00.007-04:00

I eat a lot of pizza, but I've never seen such a staggering volume of pies consumed than at last night's Slice Out Hunger fundraiser in Greenwich Village. Hosted and organized by Scott Wiener of Scott's Pizza Tours, the purpose of the pizza party was to raise money for City Harvest, an organization that collects uneaten food from restaurants and distributes it to hungry New Yorkers, among other things. Cool, huh?

This is the line out the door at 6:30, in case you were unsure of the unrivaled drawing power of $1 pizza slices. Scott got a ton of pies donated from some of the city's best pizzerias, allowing for all the proceeds to go straight to City Harvest.

Not a bad line up, right? I was stoked about Luzzo's since I haven't had it since my birthday back in October. Granted the pizzas suffered a bit from the inevitable box soggification encountered during delivery, but considering our location in the village, Joe's, John's, Arturo's and even Ben's (which didn't make it onto the above poster) all managed to arrive without too much pizza trauma.

I still can't get over the impressive turnout at the event, but then again who wouldn't want to get down on these killer pizzas?

While scoring a slice of Joe's or Lazzara's is always great, it was so satisfying to grab slices from joints that serve only by the pie, especially John's considering their infamous slogan. In addition to the pizza, Scott curated a selection of pizza boxes from around the world he's had alumni of his tours send to him over the past couple of months.

Menus and boxes made it all the way to New York from places like the Czech Republic, the Netherlands, Japan, and more- SUHweeet!

If this wasn't enough, Scott held one hell of a pizza raffle, giving away everything from pizza pens, shirts, books, throw dough, and more.

If you look closely you'll find Jason from I Dream of Pizza, Cary from Passion 4 Pizza, Sean from 31 Days of Pizza, and Nick from Pizza Rules! It's always great to see other pizza nerds wolfing down pies.

Check out Cary's slice-stacking technique- he's obviously no amateur at scarfing slices! At the end of the day, we collectively killed something like 75 pizzas, raising around $1600 for City Harvest!

Never underestimate the positive power of pizza.

Co. / Company

2010-04-19T22:56:00.005-04:00

I've been meaning to check out Company for some time now- a relatively new Neapolitan-style pizzeria in Chelsea founded by esteemed baker Jim Lahey. I used to live in Hell's Kitchen, just a few blocks from Jim's first foray into Manhattan baking, The Sullivan Street Bakery (initially founded on Sullivan St. in Soho), which features a selection of thin Roman-style pizzas served at room temp.

(courtesy of The District Domestic)

Since moving out of the neighborhood to a more distant Brooklyn, making it out to Co. became more difficult than a stroll down 9th Ave. Excuses aside, it was time to check what all the fuss was about.

Unless you're seeking the place out, it can be easy to miss. Located on the corner of a strip mall-esque building, Co. almost looks more like some sort of domestic boutique than a pizzeria.

(courtesy of NY Daily News)

Once inside... well, I'm not even sure exactly how to describe the vibe. It's like some sort of post-industrial chic communal layout that felt cold and seems befitting the Chelsea neighborhood. The service was great and the waiter was very knowledgeable on each of the pies on the menu. As per usual, I ordered the Margherita.

Initial thoughts: a bit small, none too generous on the basil, but overall a pretty beautiful pie, ammiright? The mootz was perfectly salty and the sauce is light and creamy, almost like a vodka sauce or something.

Now before I get into the crust, I have some 'splainin' to do. Lahey has been making buzz in the food and baking blogosphere (oh god, did I really just type that?) with his signature style of kneading- or should I say, not kneading. Jim has "created" a style of baking where he essentially lets his ingredients autolyse (fancy word for mixing flour and water and letting rest prior to kneading) for days until it has turned into a fully-proofed ball of dough.

Jim can't (and doesn't) take full credit for this technique- in fact, it's probably the oldest approach to making dough (and beer for that matter) in history. Considering bread was probably discovered by accidentally letting wet grains sit out until a wild strain of yeast floated by to leaven it, this "new" technique is, in a way, the oldest trick in the book.

That being said... I wasn't too impressed with the outcome. Does it make a decent, chewy cornicione? Sure. Is it among the best pizza crusts I've had? Not at all. Lahey and Co. boast a menu comprised of the basics (like my Margherita), as well as a few quirky ones with an infusion of Jim's personality, such as the Popeye (w/ spinach) and the Honshimeji & Guanciale (w/ quial egg). My friend ordered the "Ham & Cheese:"

Yowza, want some pizza with that prosciutto? Overall my experience at Company was fine- nothing more, nothing less. Would I liked to have seen the oven? Of course, but it's sadly hidden away. Some people may dig on Co., but me?

I'm lookin' for a pizzeria with some soul.

Enzo's Brick Oven Pizza

2010-04-19T22:55:00.005-04:00

Holy smokes! Over two months without a single update? Boy am I embarrassed, please forgive me readers (if there are any of you left at this point)! I promise the time spent away from blogging has been productive, and while I can't specify exactly what I've been working on right now, I hope to update you soon with some exciting news on the doc production.

IN THE MEANTIME, let me direct your attention to Enzo's, a cozy little joint with a WFO (wood fired oven) just chillin' on the cusp of Windsor Terrace and Park Slope in Brooklyn, only a block from the southwest corner of Prospect Park. I'd heard a few praises of Enzo's from friends, so I decided to stop in for a small pie last time I was in the neighborhood.

Like most traditional brick oven spots, Enzo's is eat in/take out, but no slices. That being the case, my trusty camera and I grabbed a table for two and ordered a small Margherita. Enzo's is a relatively small place with maybe 15 tables and a menu not limited to just pizzas but standard Italian fare as well. While I no doubt enjoy my share of antipasti and gnocchi and what have you, I can't waste stomach space on any dish consisting of tomatoes, cheese and carbs unless it's pizza, ya dig?

I love Enzo's oven- it's built right into the wall with *gasp* bricks. In a time fraught with brick-oven imposters, it's great to see a legit oven built with bricks, inside and out. Reminds me a lot of Toby's, located not too far from here. Just a few minutes later my pie arrived:

As you can tell, the place is dimly lit so it's hard to take a decent picture, but at least you get a feel for the ambiance, right? The pizza (about 12" in diameter) instantly reminded me of a smaller Grimaldi's or Angelo's pie (though I can't say it was up to par with either). The first thing I noticed is that the Margherita is listed on the menu as having basil (as it should), but none was found on my pie...

I asked for basil on the side, but the waiter made no acknowledgment that I shouldn't have had to have done that. Oh well, the pizza was still pretty spectacular, especially for a place that no one seems to have heard of. I had no idea what to expect, and it's easiest to be impressed when you have no expectations.

This is going to really date this post, but I was at Enzo's on Oscar night (March 7th, eek! Over two months ago!). Regardless, it was ultimately satisfying and seemingly befitting to wolf this entire pie while Baba Wawa interviewed my pizzaphiliac brethren, the Ninja Turtles. Cowabunga!

Paulie Gee's Opens Tonight, March 9th 2010

2010-03-09T15:11:00.007-05:00

Well, tonight it is a big night for a Brooklyn-born pizzaiolo and friend of mine, Paul Giannone- known affectionately through New York and New Jersey as Paulie Gee. At 6 P.M. at 60 Greenpoint Avenue in Greenpoint, Brooklyn, Paulie officially opens the over-sized barn doors of his cozy pizzeria to give the public arguably one of the best pies in America.

Paulie, who just retired from a long career of computer consulting just shy of a month ago, started making pizza about two-and-a-half years ago when he built a brick oven in his back yard.

(courtesy of Blondie & Brownie)

Not too shabby, huh? Well it pales in comparison to his new custom Italian-built oven-

I have been fortunate enough and Paulie has been kind enough to let me film the process of him getting his restaurant off the ground for my documentary. While I can't show you any footage, I'll give you a glimpse at what he's been up to.

Before Paulie bought 60 Greenpoint, it used to be a restaurant called Paloma run by Camille from Top Chef season 3. Unfortunately, there was a fire in one of the neighboring apartments, and the restaurant was closed. Fortunately, a talented pizza-maker was hot on the prowl for a headquarters.

The talented Oliver and Evan Haslegrave turned the space into something truly unique, using only recycled and repurposed material to give the brand new restaurant the warm, antiqued barn feeling it has come to embody. If you haven't been to the Manhattan Inn in Williamsburg, Brooklyn, do yourself a favor and go, if not just to see Oliver and Evan's creative handiwork.

I had my first Paulie Gee pizza while stopping by his place during this past Superbowl, and what a night that was. Paulie and his right-hand pizzaiolo Alex spent the night getting to know the new oven by making pie, after pie, after pie. Above is one of my favorites created that night, "The Alexi-" red sauce, EVOO, salt, arugula, and shaved Parmigianno-Reggiano.

Listen, it's clear to see I may have a slight bias having witnessed Paulie passionately transition from backyard entertainer to brick-oven pizza-machine, but I never said I had the integrity of a journalist. What I do know is that Paulie makes one of the absolute best Neapolitan-style pizza I've ever had, and if you knew what was good for you, you'd go try one or three for yourself.

Here's to you Paulie- best of luck, and happy "retirement!"

Arturo's

2010-03-02T17:22:00.004-05:00

Last weekend, friend and fellow pizza-blogger Jason from I Dream of Pizza organized one of his acclaimed pizza groups to set out and chow down on some coal-fired pizza from Arturo's on Houston St.

The place has a great vibe- lots of classic photos, paintings, and even live jazz! A funky bassline always goes great with a slice in my opinion.

After a short wait, all 11? 12? of us were seated in the back to passionately discuss and photograph pizza in semi-privacy. We ordered four large pies: mozzarella, fresh mozzarella, bacon & sausage, and the Diavolo minus the ham (sliced tomatoes, onions, peperoncini, no sauce).

Here's my disclaimer- the pictures in this post are sub-par. Due to confined quarters, low light, and the overwhelming anticipation of my fellow diners for me to just finish up with the damn photos already, I had to snap with a quickness, so pardon the sloppiness. Hey there's Brian Hoffman from Eat This NY at the head of the table!

First up was the Diavolo:

Pretty damn tasty, especially with that peperoncini mixed in there. I'm not usually a fan of onion on pizzas, but this one blended great with the rest of the toppings.

Everyone seemed to agree that it was probably for the best they didn't put sauce on this pizza, it was a bit on the sweet side and would not have gone well in combination with the toppings.

Next came the bacon and sausage pie, but considering I didn't try any and my pictures turned out terrible, I'm just going to skip it. That leaves the two varieties of mozzarella:

Plain...

...and fresh-

Totally discernable, right? Yeah, whatever. This is where I became disappointed with Arturo's. According to our waiter, the fresh mozzarella was made with muttz homemade that day. Sure, I believe that. What I don't believe is that the milk or curd they make it from is fresh. It tasted like sour milk, which obviously imparted some rather questionable tastes.

(plain on the left, "fresh" on the right)

This being the case, I preferred the plain pie over the fresh, but I think I speak for most of the group when I say the real winner of the night was the Diavolo. Yes, I'd order it again if I was at Arturo's, but no, I wouldn't go back to Arturo's in the first place. I mean, sour cheese? C'mon Arturo, who are you kidding calling it fresh?

Totonno's

2010-02-25T18:08:00.005-05:00

"Next week."
"Soon."
"Next month."
"Wednesday."
"Friday."

These are just a few of the multitude of answers I've heard over the past year in regards to the question asked incessantly by everyone in New York, "When the hell is Totonno's going to re-open?" After nearly a year behind the metal shutters, Coney Islands's greatest pizzeria finally re-opened its doors to the public on Friday, February 12.

Don't let me mislead you, I wasn't there for it. Totally lame, I know, but had they opened when they said they would two days earlier, I was ready to trek through the gnarly blizzard to get my first taste of the place.

After fixing the place up following the fire that forced Totonno's to close its doors last March, it was fully restored to its small, quaint, original style. Quick primer: Anthony "Totonno" Pero made his first American pizzas at Lombardi's, America's oldest pizzeria.

(courtesy of Passion-4-Pizza)

That's Perro on the left and Lombardi on the right. Supposedly, Anthony did most of the pizza-making at Lombardi's (it's hard to see, but there's flour on Perro's shoes and none on Lombardi's) and was sick of Gennaro getting all the credit, so he bought a place on Neptune Ave. in Coney Island in 1924 and named it after himself.

Totonno's, along with Lombardi's, Patsy's, and John's, comprises the four pizza forefathers of New York, and ultimately, America. With three locations now (two in Manhattan), the joint is now run by Cookie, her husband Joel, and son/pizzaiolo Lawrence Cimineri, which despite the difference in last name makes Totonno's the longest family-owned and operated pizzeria in America.

I showed up the following weekend and had no problem grabbing a table, which is surprising considering there's only about 10 in the whole place. As soon as I was able to, I ordered a traditional Margherita (one size; no slices).

This pizza is the embodiment of a year of anticipation. It's beautiful, isn't it?

The sauce is naturally sweet from the Italian tomatoes, the cheese is stretchy and fresh, and the crust is nicely toasted and crispy-

The cornicione was bready and fluffy with a great chew to it. For some reason, it seems much darker than end-crusts at any other pizzeria. I suppose this can be attributed to the placement and length of time the pie is in the coal-fired oven, but it almost looks like rye bread, am I rye-ght?

Ultimately, and I know I'm going to catch some coal-fired heat for this, I wasn't blown away. Great pizza? Definitely. Legendary? Not so much, at least in the way of taste and flavor. Maybe my expectations were set too high, maybe they were having an off day, but I just wasn't knocked out.

Would I go again? Absolutely, if not just to pay tribute to one of our forefathers.

Pietro's

2010-02-25T18:07:00.007-05:00

If you've been following my past posts, you'll know that I've been pretty disappointed by what my surrogate home city, Philadelphia, has to offer in the way of pizza (Stella excluded). I could go on a rant about how it seems as though the famous Philly cheese steak has hijacked and drained all of the attention and talent out of Philadelphia's Italian population, but a recent stop at Pietro's Coal Oven Pizzeria on South St. has me second-guessing my opinion.

Heading east down South Street towards the Delaware River, past Jim's Steaks, Eddie's Tattoos, and one of my least favorite slice joints Lorenzo's and Sons, eventually you'll end up at one of Pietro's three locations. Just as it's name explains, it is in fact a coal oven pizzeria.

Shortly after grabbing a seat and taking a few sips from a refreshing Newcastle Brown Ale, I ordered one traditional pie with Ricotta on half. At Pietro's, all pies are one size and unless you specifically ask for no cheese, it comes with homemade fresh mozzarella. Just a few minutes later, my steaming pie arrived-

Looks almost like it came from Angelo's, doesn't it? It should, considering Pietro's has family ties to Angelo's and Nick Angelis of Nick's in Queens. I'm going to be honest with you- I don't really have a lot to say about this pizza. Overall it was pretty rad, probably a 7.5/10 or so, clearly taking the cake over Tacconelli's (what a disappointment that was). While the sauce had a nice zing to it and the mozz was fresh, the best part of the pizza is the crust.

The bottom is cooked perfectly, which in my opinion means a "titch" of char and enough firmness through-out to keep the pizza from looking like it's falling asleep in your hand- the ultimate pizza turn-off. They also seemed to put some hard grated cheese and pepper (?) around the edge crust, which may sound weird but I was into it at the time.

While I was scarfing my pie, I came to the realization that I was the only person in the whole damn restaurant not on some sort of a date. I've eaten plenty of pizzas on my own before, but what the hell was going on here?

Oh yeah, it was Valentine's Day, that explains it. No matter, I was happy enough with my pizza, just me, myself, and pie.

Toby's Public House

2010-02-25T18:04:00.006-05:00

Back in October while scarfing some pies at Nomad Pizza, I met Mark Horowitz, a fellow Park Slope pizzaphile. When I asked him where his top pizza joints in the hood were, he said something like, "I don't know, I only go to Toby's." After three or so months, I finally paid it a visit.

Pretty classy spot, eh? Almost looks like something out of a 1920's gangster flick. The place, for all intents and purposes, is in fact an Irish-style pub (hence the name), with one exception:

It has a bad-ass brick oven built into the wall like it's not even a big deal. Look how fresh that thing is! Toby's serves up Neapolitan-style pies, and does a pretty damn good job at it. As always, I was obligated to order the Margherita, in addition to a quattro formaggi and a smoked pancetta and something else I'll get to later.

The Margherita was tasty. Not amazing or ground-breaking, but pretty delicious. The crust is thin but airy and light, and the pie had some great pizza warts (I think I just invented that term, thank you very much).

I like a breadier, chewier crust, so I wasn't knocked on my ass with this pizza. I also wish it had some more basil, but like I said, it was tasty. Next up was the tomato-less, sauce-less quattro formaggi, which consisted of mozzarella, Gorgonzola (DOP), Parmesan, and Pecorino Toscano (DOP).

This guy was yummy, but ultimately nothing new. I like Gorgonzola, especially on a four-cheese pizza with no sauce, but I think it's hard to execute. It's easy to get carried away with a cheese like this, and with such a strong flavor, it's even easier to turn the pie into Gorgonzola with a side of pizza, know what I mean?

The undercrust on all the pizzas was fair, I think it could have stood another 20 seconds in the oven, but it was by no means under cooked. Now let me get to the crazy smoked pancetta pizza-

Here's what is on this sucker: tomato, mozzarella, crimini mushrooms, black garlic, and smoked pancetta (at least on half- I'm a veggie remember?). Now just what the hell is black garlic? Adam at Slice goes into some detail about the stuff, but basically it's fermented garlic that has a slightly sweet taste.

I'm not gonna lie- this was a pretty great pizza. All the toppings worked really well together, and I bet if I ate the pancetta I'd only feel stronger about this. I could never really pinpoint the black garlic aside from an occasional fruity taste, but I liked that none of the ingredients stole the show here. I would definitely go back to Toby's just to order this.

Just before leaving, I nearly forgot to do something I rarely do- order dessert. Paulie Gee had been raving about Toby's dessert calzone filled with nutella and ricotta cheese, and considering I'd never had a dessert calzone, I figured one was in order.

I know, I know, you're not getting the full effect here. Basically what happened was the thing looked so incredible that I forgot to take a picture of it until I had nearly destroyed the whole calzone- give me a break for cryin' out loud! I never would have thought nutella and cheese would go so well together, but with a blizzard of powdered sugar on top, how can anything taste bad?

Pizza Pazza

2010-02-05T13:40:00.004-05:00

After cleaning our plates at Cancun's arguably best pizzera Rolandi, we decided to get an eyeful of the "clubbing" area that makes the city an infamous destination for spring break trips. I don't even know if it has a real name; we just called it Fiesta Zone for obvious reasons.

It's "sexylicious," can't you tell? Woof. I can't even imagine what this place is like in March. In an area so heavily populated by drinking establishments, wouldn't one think there needs to be a stop for drunken pizza?

Oh, there it is. Pizza Pazza. I don't really understand the name, but I know "paz" means "peace," so maybe this is Cancun's version of America's Peace a Pizza. What a strange... cart? Stand? I don't even know what to call that thing, but it has the cutest little gas deck oven I've ever seen. Since everything else had meat on it, I ordered a plan square:

Wow. Um... okay. I don't think this had any sauce on it, since there isn't any visible nor could I taste any. Let's be frank: this slice was disgusting. No flavor, just salt, and the smallest sprig of basil on Earth. It wasn't crispy, or gooey, or anything appetizing; it was floppy and flavorless.

It was however extremely hot, and since they serve it on wax paper instead of a plate, I looked like a street performer juggling the slice between my hands while occasionally taking a bite. The flavor (or lack thereof) here represented my feelings on the surrounding area: tacky, overpriced, and tasteless.

Hey, they can't all be winners, right?

Rolandi's

2010-02-05T13:01:00.006-05:00

Earlier this week I did a sporadic thing by hopping on a plane to Cancun with a friend for no apparent reason other than to get out of frigid New York. Other than an hour-long foray into Tijuana (which I don't think counts), I hadn't been to Mexico before or the Caribbean in general for that matter.

I'd never taken a vacation to a destination where the most popular thing to do is nothing, so after a day of laying on the beach, I started to get antsy. What better way to explore a new place by trying to find the best pizza in town?

After dusting off the cobwebs from my high-school Spanish education, I decided to ask around. I was starting to get discouraged when the first three responses were, "Domino's." I knew I was in a tourist trap, but there had to be something better. Something with a brick oven, perhaps? "Sí, estás buscando por Pizzeria Rolandi." Rolandi it is.

We headed for the less-touristy downtown Cancun to find Rolandi, a semi-open air pizzeria with a wood-fired oven.

While we browsed the menu, we were brought a wood-fired pita and Mexican Coca-Cola (I'd be an idiot not too, right?). Mexican Coke differs from the stuff in the states because they actually use sugar as a sweetener instead of high-fructose corn syrup, giving it a crisper, less-"gunky" aftertaste. I'm not a huge soda drinker, but it goes great with some pizza.

My friend ordered the Margherita and I ordered the "Che," essentially a Margherita with some Roquefort cheese. Minutes later...

This was the Margherita. Pretty cheesy with not a lot of basil, but the deliciously sweet tomato sauce had no problem fighting it's way through to our taste buds. There wasn't a whole lot of charring going on, and the pie was a bit wet in the middle, but it was still pretty decent.

I couldn't tell if my "Che" had less sauce than the Margherita or if the Roquefort was just a bit too overpowering, but it tasted more like a white pie than a red in comparison to the Margherita we were served.

I'm starting to develop a liking towards blue cheeses on my pizzas, but only in small doses. Most blues are so unbelievable strong, they'll completely steal the show. Like any good pizza, there should be a healthy balance between crust, sauce, and cheese, and a lot of places go a little too crazy with strong cheese.

Rolandi straddled this line, but ultimately it was delicious and I scarfed the whole thing (when don't I?). While I wish I had a longer stay in Cancun to soak up some more cosmic rays and continue my pizza exploration, I'm just glad I didn't settle for Domino's.