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Frankie's Fifth Floor Pizzeria: Critical Error in Execution Dooms This Visit
Serious Eats Chicago contributor Daniel Zemans checks in with another piece of intel on the Windy City pizza scene. Daniel also blogs about Chicagoland pizza with his friends on the Chicago Pizza Club blog. —The Mgmt.
Frankie’s 5th Floor Pizzeria
900 N. Michigan Avenue, 5th Floor, Chicago IL 60611 (map); 312-266-2500; frankiespizzachicago.com
Getting There: Red Line to Chicago, walk 1 block north and two blocks north; or take any of a large number of buses that go up/down North Michigan Avenue
Pizza Style: Neapolitanish and "Sardinian"
Oven Type: Gas
The Skinny: Though the pizza is promising here, the unique flavor profiles can't quite make up for the lack of salt or a limp crust
Price: 10” pizzas range from $7.95 to $11.95
After having such good experiences with the last pizza I ate that was affiliated with a high-end department store (Fred’s Chicago, reviewed here) and at the last Lettuce Entertain You Enterprises pizzeria I tried (Pizzeria Via Stato, reviewed here), the time had come to bring those worlds together with a trip to Frankie's 5th Floor Pizza, a LEYE restaurant located in the Bloomingdale’s building in the space formerly occupied by Tucci Bennuch for years (the Mall of America location is still open).
Frankie's is overseen by LEYE vice president Christopher Favero, who learned the pizza business as a kid working for his father, Nino Favero, owner of Nino's Pizza, a south suburban three-location chain that I have yet to try. Between the Lettuce corporate backing, the leadership of a guy who grew up in the Chicago pizza business, and the good mojo that Tucci Bennuch surely left behind, I had high hopes for Frankie’s. I still think it can probably be very good at times, but on my visit there, any chance of those hopes being met were killed by an impatient chef.
Up first was The Rita D, which our server said is Frankie’s signature pizza. The Rita D comes with ricotta, mozzarella, Parmesan, asparagus, an egg, and truffle oil. The topping combination worked well, though with the amount of cheese used, particularly the ricotta, some additional seasoning would have been welcome. The egg and the asparagus were both good choices, but neither of those added any kind of saltiness, which the pizza lacked. The star of this pie was unquestionably the truffle oil, which I got a nice whiff of each time I lifted a slice to my mouth. It almost rescued the pizza, but unfortunately even that high-end touch was not enough to make the pizza a winner. That was particularly true given that the pizza fell short in the crust, which was both undercooked and largely devoid of flavor. The pizza is cooked in a stone oven with a large gas flame, but there was little evidence of charring or even crispness. The hole structure was nice, but the lack of crispness gave the cornicione a springiness that was not particularly enjoyable.
The second pizza I had was one of four Sardinian Pizzas listed on the menu [pdf]. One would think that Sardinian pizza would be some variant of pizza from Sardinia, the autonomous Italian island that sits west of Italy in the Mediterranean Sea. But it turns out that Sardinia has no special style of pizza. Sardinia does have a unique bread, pane carasau, also known as carta di musica, so the next reasonable guess would be pizza on that thin crisp flatbread. It turns out that, according to our server, there is no significant difference between the crusts on Sardinian pies and what Frankie’s calls Neapolitan pizzas. The only differences are that the Sardinian pizzas come with an older, tangier Parmesan and they have no mozzarella and no sauce, which results in crisper crusts.
Perhaps it was because I was so in the mood for salt, or maybe it’s because it was a good flavor combination, but I really enjoyed the cheese and toppings on the Sardinian Garlic Pizza, which featured shaved garlic, red pepper flakes and, of course, the aged Parmesan. The pizza, like all of Frankie’s Sardinian pies, is served with extra virgin olive oil, which is poured into a small plate rather than on the pizza. The lack of toppings and the olive oil dipping dish left me with the impression that the Sardinian pizza was more of a fancy garlic bread appetizer than a pizza.
Unfortunately, the Sardinian pizza’s crust suffered even more than the undercooked crust on The Rita D. As you can see in the picture at right, the cornicione was actually uncooked in the middle. The bottom crust was a little crisper than its counterpart on The Rita D, but I suspect the difference was supposed to be more distinct.
The flavor profiles on both of my pizzas were both good enough that I'm not ready to completely write off Frankie’s Fifth Floor Pizzeria. Had the pizzas been cooked properly, my only complaints would have been that both crusts could have used more flavor and that The Rita D needed some salt. If I go back (I can't say I'm a regular at 900 N. Michigan), I'd give the place another try, but emphasize to the server that I wanted my crusts well-done.
Related
When in Chicago, Do as the Romans Do at Pizzeria Via Stato
Fred's Chicago: I Love You, You Love Me, Get Great Pizza at Barneys