"Pizza Blogger," as the anonymous author prefers to be known, asks Edwardsen a series of knowledgeable questions about Joe Squared's coal oven and the dough-making process. The questions are obviously informed by PB's experience working at D.C.-area bakery Uptown Bakers. PB's knowledge and passion shines through in all his posts. I come away from the site with the feeling that the entries are well-researched and trustworthy. And I always feel like I've learned something after a visit.
1880 Hylan Boulevard, Staten Island NY (Grant City; at Slater Blvd.; map); 718-979-7499; salvatoreofsoho.com Pizza Style: New York–Neapolitan/coal-oven Oven Type: Gas-coal hyrid oven The Skinny: Longtime pizzaman Salvatore Ganci is turning great, thin, chewy-crisp pizzas that stand shoulder to shoulder with the best coal-oven places in the city Price: Small Margherita, $9; large, $18
Just a couple blocks down from Pasticceria Bruno of Greenwich Village you'll find Salvatore of Soho. Geographically impossible, you say? Then you haven't been to Grant City, on the eastern shore of Staten Island, where this pizzeria has been cranking out coal-oven pies since late last year. That's Salvatore of Soho, mind you, not Salvatore's of Soho, located in The Bronx.
Oh, so now you're saying a coal-oven pizzeria on Staten Island is impossible? Well, you might be half right. Salvatore's of Soho uses a unique coal-gas hybrid oven with a rotating stone disk that turns out some great pizzas. A small, glowing coal chamber assists in heating the spinning surface above it and also imparts that smoky coal-oven flavor you've come to know and love at the legendary coalers in Coney Island (Totonno's), East Harlem (Patsy's), and, yes, Soho (Lomardi's).
Not only has the rapidly increasing number of new coal pizzerias surprised us but where they're located has been interesting as well. Click through the jump for before-and-after maps.
Coal-oven slice seekers in the Baltimore 'burbs, take note: Coal Fire has opened in Ellicott City. The blog HowChow has some details. Coal Fire: 5725 Richard's Valley Road, Ellicott City MD 21043 (map); 410-480-2625
Editor's note: Today we've got a dispatch from "L.A. Pizza Maven," our man in the City of Angels. LAPM filed this quite some time ago, and my lazy ass has sat on it—hence the references to the Big Dance of last month. Take it away, LAPM! —The Mgmt.
March Madness has new meaning for me ever since the son of one of one of my oldest friends became a major league baseball player. No longer do these two words conjure up visions of young men in shorts and sneakers battling it out for the NCAA basketball championship, no crazed fans wearing wild boar or cheese wheel hats.
For the last several years, this seasonal lunacy takes place on bright, emerald baseball diamonds strategically built in the midst of the Arizona desert, where a few old friends and I gather for the perennial spring training ritual.
Heightening the insanity has been the relatively recent transformation of the Southwest into a pizza mecca, where I can continue my pursuit of the perfect pie.
On this trip, I decided to indulge my sauce, dough, and cheese obsession in the entertainment capital of the world—Las Vegas.
I've had a lot of you emailing me or asking me in person: When is Totonno's in Coney reopening?
As you should know, there was a fire at the legendary coal-oven pizzeria on March 14. When last we talked to Totonno's owner Lawrence Ciminieri, he said he thought the place would reopen in a month's time—which would be around, oh, now.
I just got off the phone with Ciminieri, and he tells me that the target reopen date is now early June.
"It took four weeks just to get the permit to start work," he said. "We'll start May 1, and hopefully it'll take four weeks to rebuild. So early June."
Slice will keep an eye on the Totonno's rebuild for you and bring your word of the reopening. If for some sick reason you don't check the site daily, though, Ciminieri says you should just call Totonno's before making a trip out there: 718-372-8606.
This new (to me) coaler was opened in February by former Carolina Panthers linebacker Dan Morgan. Oddly enough, it was inspired by the Anthony's Coal Fired Pizza chain in Florida. Combo sports bar and pizzeria. Creative Loafingsays the pies aren't balanced. Dan Morgan's Cheese Mo'z Coal Fired Pizza: 8410 Rea Road, Charlotte NC 28277 (map); 704-544-5255
354 Van Brunt Street, Brooklyn NY 11231 (at Sullivan Street, Red Hook; map); 718-775-5386; anselmosbakery.com Getting There: The B61 and B77 buses are your closest public transit options Pizza Style: New York–Neapolitan
Oven Type: Coal-fired The Skinny: Too soon to really say Price: TK
We've been following the progress of this place since June of last year, when it announced a July 4 open date. These things don't always go according to schedule (see Co./Company, Ignazio's, etc.), but it looks like coal-fired pies will finally be a reality in Red Hook. The official target date was to have been today, March 28, but partner Jack Stella said it would be more like Monday or Tuesday now.
The folks behind Anselmo's were having an oven test-fire last night that was open to friends, family, the neighborhood, and whomever was walking by and his uncle. I stopped in on the way home from work and managed to get some shots and talk briefly with the partners. [More photos and intel after the jump.]
Lawrence Ciminieri, in front of the Totonno's oven we hope to be eating pizzas from again soon.
I called Totonno's owner Lawrence Ciminieri to find out more about the fire damage horrified Slice reader Rob S. discovered when he went to the original Coney Island location yesterday.
Ciminieri says, "Everything is going to be fine. The fire broke out in the coal storage area when we were closed. It must have been ignited by something backed up in the oven. The back two rooms are gone. The dining room is fine. The oven will have to be re-bricked, but that is something we do every few years anyway. I think we'll be back open in a month. Tell everybody thanks for me, Ed. Everyone's been so supportive."
Everyone who loves good pizza knows how important the original Totonno's is. It is our church of pizza. We need it restored to its former glory, and, from what Ciminieri says, it sounds like we are going to get what we need. [After the jump, a slide show of Totonno's as it was.]
Posted by Adam Kuban, February 24, 2009 at 11:55 AM
If you don't follow the comings and goings of coal-oven pizzerias around the country—and, really, if you're halfway normal, why would you?—then you may not know there are other Grimaldi's outside the New York City area.
Sure, you might know about the Hoboken Grimaldi's, but, wait ... there's one in Texas? Say wha?
Yes, there are a handful in Texas and the Southwest, all (or most) rocking coal ovens, from what I can tell. Also, from what I can piece together, they are loosely affiliated with the original only in that a different set of owners licensed the name (sort of like the East Harlem Patsy's and the mini-chain Patsy's).
Sounds good, right? Pioneers extending the manifest destiny of coal-oven supremacy throughout the mild West.
A coal-fired pizza oven operates at extremely high temperatures. It cooks the pizza very quickly and gives it a slightly smoky flavor. If you make a pizza crust of an average thickness, the hot floor of the brick oven will char the bottom of the crust by the time the pizza is completely cooked. Coal oven pizza aficionados love the char--they savor the crunchy blackened crust the same way Texas barbecue lovers treasure the crispy burnt ends of a brisket.
Unfortunately, Texans weren't raised on coal oven pizza and they see do not see the allure of a "burnt" pizza. And so the whole coal-fired brick oven pizza phenomenon is kind of a joke in Houston.
Apparently, all the Grimaldi's in Arizona and the ones in Texas have learned the hard way that customers send back the "burnt" pizzas and have been cooking their crusts to a dull blond ever since.
Posted by Adam Kuban, February 22, 2009 at 12:45 PM
Looks like there's been some progress at Anselmo's Pizzeria on Van Brunt Street in Red Hook. The dining room looks just about finished, and the oven has been fired up.
The last time I peeked in the windows (mid November), it looked nowhere near ready. But Anselmo himself says that they'll be doing a day of oven testing soon, and then opening to the public after that.
Anselmo's Pizzeria
354 Van Brunt Street, Brooklyn NY 11231 (at Sullivan Street, Red Hook; map)
718-775-5386 anselmospizza.com
Tipster John B. writes: "East Side Cafe in Pittsfield has been serving [coal-fired pies] since the early '50s. Nothing like it in the area. Always has a great char on the bottom and carboned edges once in a while." 378 Newell Street, Pittsfield MA 01201 (map); 413-447-9405
On Wednesday, our man in Chicago hipped me to some coal-oven news I had been sleeping on—that a joint called Black Sheep Coal-Fired Pizza in Minneapolis needed to be added to the Slice Coal-Oven Map.
Posted by Adam Kuban, December 16, 2008 at 12:45 PM
I know some of you are fans of this place, so for you, a message from South Brooklyn Pizza's PR flak:
As a Holiday surprise In response to ongoing customer requests, South Brooklyn Pizza is slated to soft-open their new adjoining takeout/delivery annex today (Tuesday, December 16), located next to the restaurant's main entrance and sharing the same address and phone number.
Two kinds of pizzas will be sold (cash only): Sicilian Margherita and Cheese Melange (mozzarella, fontina, asagio, ricotta, and pecorino, all imported from Italy) in 18-inch size—$20 each; by the slice—$3 per. Both takeout and delivery (within a 10-block radius) will be offered, and hours and days of operation to begin with will be limited, and then expanded to 11 a.m. to 11 p.m., seven days a week, in time for the official grand opening on Thursday, January 8.
Posted by Adam Kuban, October 10, 2008 at 11:30 AM
Above: Before and ... after some progress. Click me bigger » Progress photographs courtesy of Anselmo's Pizzeria
What would be New York City's latest coal-oven pizzeria, Anselmo's Pizzeria Restaurant, looks like it's making some progress after failing to meet its previously stated July 4 opening target.
Says the Red Hook pizzeria's Roger Fischer, "I'm 90 percent done. The oven is taking a long time to build."
From everything I've ever read or heard about custom oven jobs, they always take longer than expected. A couple more pix, after the jump.
Homeslice Paulie Geecommented this morning on my John's Pizzeria post of last week, tipping me to something I was unaware of until now. I figured I'd bust it out into its own post just to alert folks:
Are you aware the John's has opened a new location just west of the Exchange Place Financial District in Jersey City? I happened upon it yesterday. It's not listed on their website, but it's definitely them. They have the same "No Slices" logo on the sign hanging outside, a coal oven, and the menu looks like the Times Square location's menu. It's a very nice-looking place outside and in, but as folks like to say these days, it is what it is. It's located at 87 Sussex Street.
John's Pizzeria
87 Sussex Street, Jersey City NJ 07302 (map)
201-433-4411
While I was in Red Hook on Saturday for the opening day of the Red Hook Vendors, I figured I'd head on over to the supposed site of New York City's next coal-oven pizzeria. Slice posted about this mid June, and at the time the projected opening date for Anselmo's Pizzeria was July 4, according to its website. Looks like it's still got some ways to go, and calls to the number have gone unreturned.
I'm guessing the chimney is for the coal-oven.
And it looks like Anselmo's website has been updated since I last looked at it. The place, which was originally going to be a pizzeria and bakery, is now going to be a pizzeria only:
Anselmo's Restaurant is located in Beautiful Red Hook Brooklyn, New York. We were hoping to open on the 4th of July but we are still in construction. We are trying a fast as we can to open. Anselmo's was originally going to be a full line bakery cafe' until we found a coal oven in the building. We couldn't pass up the opportunity to make coal brick oven pizza. After all there is only two in Brooklyn and ours will be number three.We have another bakery in the works on Pier 41 in Red Hook. We will be putting out flyers on the Grand Openning. Everyone is welcome. Read more on the Chef and Co owner on the About Us Page. Keep checking back to keep up to date on the opening.
They're a little misinformed. There's Totonno's, Grimaldi's, and South Brooklyn Pizza. So they'll be the fourth.
Anselmo's Bakery Restaurant
354 Van Brunt Street, Brooklyn NY 11231 (at Sullivan Street, Red Hook; map)
718-775-5386 anselmosbakery.com
Daniel Zemans, our man in Chicago, checks in with another piece of intel on the Windy City pizza scene. Daniel also blogs about Chicagoland pizza, along with his friends, on the Chicago Pizza Club blog. —The Mgmt.
The Chicago Reader, the Windy City's preeminent free weekly, recently named Coalfire the best pizza in Chicago. I disagree, but Coalfire does make a very good pie.
Neapolitan-style pizza has been making headway in Chicago for a few years, but Coalfire, which opened 14 months ago, is the only coal-oven pizzeria in Chicago. The creative force behind Coalfire is J. Spillane, who brought his pizza love to the Midwest from Worcester, Massachusetts. After ten years as a bartender, he perfected his pizza-making craft at home and opened Coalfire.
Although sometimes inconsistent, South Brooklyn’s $12 pizzas usually come from the coal-fired oven with the right amount of char on a crunchy crust, which is slightly thicker than what one might find at the end of a long wait at Di Fara.
The pie is oval, slicked with olive oil and bright with San Marzano tomatoes and a nudge of basil. The cheese is predominantly fresh mozzarella, although bits of fontina and Parmesan play supporting roles.
Although Kim Severson deems it "delicious," I'd advise you to go with low expectations. I've only been once but would not wholeheartedly recommend on that one visit, as the crust was very tough and rather bland. Still gathering tasting intel before forming a more gelled opinion on the place, though. Many people on Chowhounds have reported liking it.
Anselmo is building two bakeries in Red Hook Brooklyn,New York. Anselmo will be a full-line bakery Restaurant in Pizza, pasta ,pastries and breads. The first bakery will be located on 354 Van Brunt Street in Red Hook Brooklyn, New York . The second will be on 204 Van Dyke Street Brooklyn,New York. @ pier 41. The first bakery will be done by July 4th and the second will be done by December 2008. Anselmo has baked for over 25 years and has worked at very well known places like Water Edge Restaurant in Long Island,NY, Encore Bakery in Manhattan,NY, Stuars Restaurant in Manhattan,NY ,Cousin Johns Bakery in Brooklyn,NY ,Cousin Johns Bakery in Brooklyn,NY ,Tennis Club in Long Island City,NY, Trattoria Sole in Miami,Florida,Don Goavani's in Manhattan,NY and SoNo Baking Company & Cafe' in Norwalk,Connecticut. Anselmo has worked for John Barricelli,co-host of "Everyday Foods," a lifestyle program produced by Martha Stewart Living Omnimedia.
COAL BRICK OVEN PIZZA AND BREAD!
That last all-caps shouting match was Anselmo, on his website, not me. Though I must say again, just for good measure: ANOTHER NEW COAL-OVEN PLACE! Sweet! [via NewYorkology.com]
Anselmo's Bakery Restaurant
354 Van Brunt Street, Brooklyn NY 11231 (at Sullivan Street, Red Hook; map)
718-775-5386 anselmosbakery.com
We were in Midtown in the 50s taking in the last day of an exhibit at the Museum of Modern Art. But I also wanted to take in some pizza while I was there. Where to go?
With the Modern on 53rd and a hoard of mediocre good-enough-for-lunch slices surrounding it, I thought I was sunk. And then I remembered Angelo's Pizza, a coal-oven place on 57th Street, between Sixth and Seventh. And as I've never really done much about the place on Slice, I figured it was time for a revisit.
I'd been a number of times when I worked on 42nd and had even had a Slice Pizza Club outing there at one point. I'd never been that impressed with it. But last night's pie was good, if not great.
The answer is still no. When phoned, a Hanley's staffer said, "Ummm, it may be the Friday after St. Patrick's Day now." The Hanley's watch will continue ... Previously: New Coal Oven in Carroll Gardens
Update: Hanley's is now serving coal-fired pies under the name South Brooklyn Pizza just next door to Hanley's at 451 Court Street. [06/16/2008]
No: When I stopped in last night to sample a pie, the joint's pizza operation was a nonstarter. The host, who seemed a bit unsure of its status, said it may be up and running by Friday. Phone calls to Hanley's today to get a more definite status seemed to go to a fax machine there. Previously: New Coal Oven in Carroll Gardens
Update: Hanley's is now serving coal-fired pies under the name South Brooklyn Pizza just next door to Hanley's at 451 Court Street. [06/16/2008]
Posted by Adam Kuban, February 20, 2008 at 1:00 PM
And here's another addition to the Slice Nationwide Coal-Oven Pizza Map. This one in the Wolverine State. —The Mgmt.
There is a coal-oven pizza place in Farmington Hills, Michigan, called Tomatoes Apizza. It recently added the coal oven. The owner learned his art in New Haven, Connecticut.
Posted by Adam Kuban, February 20, 2008 at 10:45 AM
I am a devoted slice eater and pizza worshiper from Providence, Rhode Island. I am writing to you from the state of Esprito Santo in Brazil.
Before I left for my trip, I had the pleasure of dining at Angela's Coal Fired Pizza in Saugus, Massachusetts (actually, immediately before leaving from JFK, I stopped at L&B Spumoni Gardens, Nathan's, and Di Fara within a two-hour period). Angela's opened in November, I believe. As far as I know, it's the closest coal oven to my Providence home. It may be the only one in Massachusetts as well.
Knowing that coal ovens are notoriously hard to come by and that you can't just up and put one in any damn place, I just called the bar to confirm. A member of the wait staff says, Yes, it's a coal oven(!), that it's been operational for a couple weeks, and that the first public pies should be out Friday night.
Posted by Adam Kuban, November 26, 2007 at 4:15 PM
I forgot about this photo set, but earlier this year, our web developer here at Slice–Serious Eats HQ went on a trip to Dallas and visited Coal Vines, one of America's coal-oven pizzeriasnot in New York or New Haven. He brought back some pix, below:
Doesn't look half bad, does it?
Coal Vines
Address: 2404 Cedar Springs Road, Dallas TX 75201 (map) Phone: 214-855-4999 Website:coalvines.com Notes: Second location at 1251 East Southlake Boulevard, Southlake TX 76092 (map); 817-310-0850
Posted by Adam Kuban, November 20, 2007 at 1:00 AM
Slice reader and graphic designer Norman H. manages to combine the concepts of coal-oven pizza and stoking a coal-fire in a brilliant little creation that's at once novel and obvious in a why-didn't-anyone-think-of-it-before way. Thanks, Norman!
I've been workin' in the coal mine, digging up some more coal-oven pizzerias to bring you. Although New York City and New Haven, Connecticut, are two of the most famous coal-oven towns, did you know there are coal joints in Florida; Philly; Chicago; Des Moines, Iowa; Dallas; and Scottsdale, Arizona? They're all on the Slice National Coal-Oven Pizza Map.
Posted by Adam Kuban, November 8, 2007 at 12:00 PM
Slice's Coal-Oven Pizzeria Map lists all New York City–area coal-oven pizzerias that we know of. Clicking the pizza icons will bring up address, phone number, URL (if any), and a link back to all entries Slice has on the particular pizzeria. It's a handy way to visually navigate what Slice has to offer.
The map legend is at right—and for this map, Slice Dude got a makeover with a little coal-miner's helmet. If we've missed any coal-oven joints that you know of, comment or drop me a line: adam@sliceny.com.
Posted by Adam Kuban, November 7, 2007 at 12:00 PM
Slice's Coal-Oven Pizzeria Map lists all U.S. coal-oven pizzerias that we know of. Clicking the pizza icons will bring up address, phone number, URL (if any), and a link back to any entries Slice has on the particular pizzeria. It's a handy way to visually navigate the crisp-crusted world of coal-oven pizza.
The map legend is at right—and for this map, Slice Dude got a makeover with a little coal-miner's helmet. If we've missed any coal-oven joints that you know of, comment or drop me a line: adam@sliceny.com.
Salvatore Pollito is a pie man, no two ways about it. Ten years ago he opened a solid slice joint in Queens. Then, when he felt he had mastered the art of the slice, he decided to tackle coal-fired, brick-oven pizza, inspired by his many ttips to Totonno's and Patsy's. He has done that successfully at Bella Via, which, with its brick walls and big windows, is one of the more cheerful pizzerias I have come across.
Pollito had a local guy build the oven at Bella Via, and tucked it into the back of the place in full view of the salivating patrons, who watch as he turns out beautiful pies. Pollito uses low-moisture, slightly aged mozzarella, Italian tomatoes, and fine locally sourced sausage on his pies. His crust is fairly thin, bready, and soft and doesn't have much chew to it.
Bella Via
Address: 47-46 Vernon Boulevard, Long Island City NY (at 48th Avenue; map) Phone: 718-361-7510 Related: All Bella Via entries on Slice
Pepe's, a Slice favorite beloved by just about everyone, including Michael Stern of Roadfood, and me. Pepe's, which I named one of pizzadom's "keepers of the flame" in my book Pizza: A Slice of Heaven, had previously opened a branch in Fairfield, Connecticut, in 2005 and another in Mansfield, Connecticut, last month. I tried to go to the Fairfield branch but was repelled by the long line.
College town expansion sounds like a sound business strategy. College kids love pizza (actually, who doesn't), ditto for professors living on academic salaries, and Pepe's would be a cost-effective way for parents visiting their kids to take them out for some non-dorm food.
But is the pizza going to be any good? Is it going to do justice to Frank Pepe's name and legacy as one of the true pizza giants in this country? Can you make a good coal-fired oven tomato pie beyond the Connecticut state line? I have my doubts.
Editor's note: A short time ago, homeslice Philip G. got in touch, telling me there was a post on pizzamaking.com that was making quite a stir: Reverse-Engineered Coal-Fired Brick Oven. Apparently, a Michigan man had invented a grill insert that he claimed simulated a coal- or wood-fired oven. I clicked over and became fascinated by the metal-and-stone device (pictured below). Could something so simple-looking achieve the holy grail of at-home pizza-making—hot enough and consistent enough temperatures to perfectly cook a pie? I don't know yet, because my 2stone Pizza Grill has only today begun its UPS journey to my home in Brooklyn. Anyway, Philip has been in on the 2stone discussion thread on pizzamaking.com since the beginning, so he offered to do a Q &A with the inventor, Willard Gustavsen. Here 'tis. Many thanks to Philip! —Adam
Tell us a little bit about where this project came from—where did you initially get the idea to make a pizza-oven insert for grills?
Most of the design work I have done has been related to specialty tools for the building industry. I have either sold the patent rights or have manufactured products and private-labeled them for companies. I have always liked good pizza and thought it would be a fun project; to see if I could design a simple oven or tool that could duplicate the results of an authentic wood-fired hearth oven. Essentially the 2stone Pizza Grill is just another tool of sorts.
At first, all of my prototypes were wood-burning and were a combination of steel and fire bricks. I tried many different styles, mostly looking for a way to reduce the number of bricks it took and also trying to find ways to shorten the fire-up time. Since I genuinely like pizza and pizza-making, it was more interesting than some of the other projects I've worked on. I kind of had my doubts about making something saleable, because it could be really expensive to ship a lot of bricks around the country.
I guess that's where I started thinking about a grill insert. I already had a grill "the heat source" and I figured most people do, so why bother reinventing "the heat part"? I also got tired of having to burn all that slab wood just for two pizzas.
How long has it taken to get all the kinks out of the system, from start to finish?
I started 5 or 6 years ago. I didn't work on it all the time but kept thinking about it in the back of my mind. I would scrap the last prototype and build a new one, always looking for a way to do more with less—fewer firebricks and shorter fire-up times, for example. Once the final concept was down, it did boil down to ironing out the kinks, as you say.
NYC expats who want their coal-fired pizza fix now have an option outside Baltimore. The Phat Pug Coal Fired Pizzeria, 8814A Bel Air Road, Perry Hall, MD is about an hour's drive from downtown DC. If you're down on the burnt crust tip, this is your only option outside New York. And yeah, coal fired pizza ain't coming to DC no way, no how. Imagine what that stuff does to your lungs.
For the uninitiated, coal-fired pizza ovens are the holy grail of pizza ovens, since they're able to crank to mega-high temps and properly cook a pie.
They opened yesterday. Located on Grand Avenue, about three storefronts west of Ogden. This is a cute place, wood floors, warm colors with a huge coal-fired oven in the back. I'm told that it gets about 800 degrees hot, sometimes more.
Due to time constraints, I had to order my pizzas takeout, and as such, all pizzas suffer when cooled down a bit. But still, these pies (I ordered two) had a bready, thin crust with all the integrity of an East Coast pizza. (The guys who own this are from Western Mass.) The crust was a little tough but I'm willing to give them a pass because mine had cooled down significantly before I had the chance to bite into it. Also, the pies coming right out of the oven looked amazing - big blistery crust. One noticeable difference from Neapolitan types is the black, dusty char on the top of the crust from the coal oven.
I ordered two pies - one margherita with fresh mozz and big whole pieces of basil on top and one with pepperoni, black olives and mushrooms. The sauce was tomatoey, with a tomatoey acidity, and lacking the cloying tomato paste taste of typical Chicago pizza. Both were quite tasty, and quite foldable. It is a welcome addition to a neighborhood that is without any East Coast/true Italian style pizza options.
But for the first day, there appeared to be no kinks and they had quite a crowd for opening day. Definitely worth getting down here for a try.
Coalfire Pizza
Address: 1321 West Grand Avenue, Chicago IL 60622 (at Ogden Ave.; map) Phone: 312-226-2625
Slice reader Conduit Design Group just asked how Pizza Club No. 8 went. So, without further delay, the quick rundown.
Numero Ocho was scheduled for this past Sunday at Coney Island. Unfortunately, so was a crappy nor'easter. Girl Slice and I made our way to Totonno's anyway, just in case any stalwart readers made the trip. Nobody did. Oh well. It turned into a soggy private date for just us two.
We knew the Cyclone would be closed, but we exited at the Surf Avenue end of the station (above) because we had to meet any prospective attendees at noon at Nathan's (below).
It always becomes an issue when a highly regarded pizzeria opens a second location -- will the pies be as good at the new branch? Will production at the original branch suffer as a result of the new venture? The New York Times on the new Fairfield, Connecticut, branch of Frank Pepe's:
To the average aficionado of thin-crust pies, the chewy, somewhat salty dough dished up by Fairfield’s Frank Pepe is every bit as good as any coming out of New Haven. One reason for that is the use of a coal-fired oven, which generates far more heat than most gas or electric installations. Another, a waitress told me, is that the batter (and red sauce) is whipped up every day from scratch.
Well, it looks like Yum! Brands is not only responsible for the reprehensible pies belched out by Pizza Hut but also indirectly for the March 1 temporary shuttering of venerable Greenwich Village pizza joint John's, on Bleecker Street. (Yum is the corporate parent of both the Hut and Taco Bell, whose rat infestation of the nearby Village Bell location last week made nationwide news and grossed us all out.)
It seems that due to the extensive media coverage of a certain fast food restaurant and the scandal surrounding the N.Y.C. dept. of health, they are now trying to save face and set examples.... It seems that after 70 YEARS in business they have decided that we need a sink CLOSER TO the Pizza making area, have PROPER lids on our RESTROOM GARBAGE CANS, seal airtight, every possible crack and hole in our 150 year old basement.... and MOST IMPORTANTLY keep our basement door closed....
As unbelievable as this sounds, the Inspector informed us there are now NEW LAWS as of THIS WEEKand shut us down.... so we are spending our day Filling cracks and filling out paperwork. We are TRULY sorry for any inconvenience and assure you we will be open a.s.a.p........
Any idea just how many pizza ovens in NYC are heated with coal?
Mahalo,
E.J.F.
Dear E.J.F.,
I know you've emailed a couple times about this, and my apologies for the delayed response—things have been busy at the Slice–Serious Eats office. Anyway, off the top of my head, here are all the ones I can think of. Readers, if I've forgotten any, do let me know in the comments.
Posted by Adam Kuban, February 22, 2007 at 6:00 PM
One of the (many) nice things about working at Serious Eats as its managing editor is that Slice now has access to some great video. We've been slaving away at Serious Eats world headquarters, making some good movin' pictures for you to watch, and this, IMHO, is one of the best. In it, we've worked with Michael Stern, who, along with his wife, Jane Stern, are the mad geniuses behind the Roadfood franchise—books, magazine columns, and the website. Here, Mr. Stern visits Frank Pepe's in New Haven. Tune in, turn on, and pig out!
An interesting note about a quirky wedding just came to my inbox.
Hi Adam,
Just idly listening to Imus in the Morning, which is a rarity as I usually have Mike and Mike on (ESPN Radio). Today I heard their sports reporter, Chris "The Continent" Carlin (who also broadcasts Rutgers football games), announce that he is marrying Sheryl Spain, a local publicist, this Saturday (or today?). Not a shotgun wedding, as this is apparently not new news. But it's where they are getting married that takes the pie.
Yes, a pizzeria. Not just any slice joint either, but John's! Seems the place will close for the occasion, just as if it was another private party, but apparently this is a first-of-its-kind event. Did you know about this?
A search of information contains passing references on Imus-related blogs, but no specific mentions. I didn't catch which location but i'm willing to bet it's the midtown one. I'm gonna listen to Imus more to see what other info can be found.
Cheers,
Dan
This is the first I've heard of it, Dan. It reminds me of the awesome photo below. I don't know who this couple is or whether they got married at Joe's Pizza (on Carmine Street), but they do look happy, don't they?
Kim Severson of the New York Times does the best job yet of getting to the bottom of the puzzling Domino's Brooklyn Style Pizza kerfuffle. We're surprised she lived to write the story, after having brought the chain pie into Coney Island's Totonno's for comparison:
“Get that thing out of here,” was the first thing Totonno’s owner, Louise Ciminieri, said when she saw the Domino’s box.
Once we explained that we were on a mission to determine exactly what constituted a Brooklyn Style pie, she softened. Sort of. “When they say Brooklyn Style Pizza they’re referring to us,” she said. “We were the first ones.” [That's a snippet of a Totonno pie at right here. —Ed. ]
And here's a gem from Ms. Severson: "We purchased our Domino’s pie just a few blocks away from Totonno’s on Neptune Avenue. That it was handed to us over bulletproof glass turned out to be the most authentically Brooklyn part about it."
Posted by Adam Kuban, October 30, 2006 at 11:48 AM
Pity poor Ed Levine. When his workday doesn't involve ordering one of each doughnut at a well-regarded New York City doughnuttery, he gets to eat pizza from some of the country's best pizzerias and write about it for Details magazine. His findings cover some familiar ground to readers of Slice and of Mr. Levine's 2005 book PIzza: A Slice of Heaven, but there are some new entries to be savored.
Pizzeria Bianco [623 East Adams Street, Phoenix AZ 85004; map]
"The sauce tastes like a distillation of the ripest tomatoes."
Di Fara[1424 Avenue J, Brooklyn NY 11230; map]
"... a Di Fara slice has a one-of-a-kind flavor."
Totonno's [1524 Neptune Ave., Brooklyn NY 11224; map]
"Order the white pie, made with ricotta, mozzarella, and enough fresh garlic to ward off a roomful of vampires."
Posted by Adam Kuban, September 17, 2006 at 11:51 PM
I don't even know what to say about this recipe. Just reading through it makes my head spin. Software engineer Jeff Varasano (above) has been trying for six years to craft a pizza along the lines of Patsy's in East Harlem. As of August 22, he claims to have done so:
This pizza is modeled after Patsy's on 117th street in NYC. I have been working on this for SIX years, but FINALLY I can report that I have achieved my goal. Many people have tried my pie and swear it is not only the best pizza they've ever had, but a clone of the original Patsy's recipe. This pie is incredibly light and perfectly charred. It took just 2 minutes and 10 seconds to bake at 825F....
Reproducing this was no easy feat. It's been a bit of an obsession. I've had a lot of failed experiments. It's only now, in the past 6 months that I can honestly say that the recipe is fully accurate and reproducible. The final breakthrough came in Jan 2005 when I finally got a handle on the proper mixing equipment and procedure. But do not think that following this will be easy. It's not. It will still take practice. A few others have confirmed that by following these steps they too have come to near perfection. This may be the most detailed, accurate and complete recipe on the net for making a true Pizza Napoletana.
To get your oven to 825°, you'll need to do a little hacking. On his own oven, Mr. Varasano cut off the lock that engages during the self-clean cycle so he can still open the door when the unit heats to superhigh temps.
AMERICAN EATS The History Channel 10 p.m. Eastern/Pacific, 9 p.m. Central
Order a pizza in and get ready to watch. Or set the TiVo and go out for a pie. From the "New York Times":
The migration of pizza westward — from southern Italy to New York, Chicago, Los Angeles — is the story of mutation, innovation, perversion. And in spite of the documentary's wonderfully nonjudgmental narration, viewers will find it hard not to take sides.
Midwestern deep-dish types tend to see coastal pies as too wan or too fancy. Californians like their Spago-era artworks all fusioned and deluxe; I imagine they silently believe that other kinds of pizza are only for fat people. New Yorkers, who are fundamentally right on this subject, know they have the real thing.
Or almost. One thing this documentary does well is show how importation is always transformation: even when Gennaro Lombardi, the founding father of American pizza, opened his shop on Spring Street in SoHo a century ago, he was tampering with tradition. He had to use local tomatoes, explains the voice-over, "instead of San Marzano tomatoes grown in the volcanic soil of Mount Vesuvius." And atop the local tomato sauce he melted ordinary cow cheese, instead of the distinctive Italian mozzarella made from water-buffalo milk.
I was reading your article on the coal-oven pizzerias in Florida. Surprisingly enough, there are a few more locations opening up throughout the area. There is a company called Coal Fired Pizza Co. opening in Wellington and a second location in Coral Springs. Both are due to open the first week of July.
I know this because I am the designer/builder of these ovens. Now David Manero of Manero's Restaurant Group, Gotham City, and Shore is opening up a coal-oven pizza restaurant on PGA in Palm Beach Gardens.
The myth of the coal ovens causing pollution has passed with the use of anthracite coal. Clean burning with almost no smoke and zero carcinogens.
Jon: You don't know how this kills me. Until recently, Ma and Pa Slice were residents of Wellington. They move back to Kansas, then all these coal-burners spring up. --The Management
RED ROCK COAL FIRED PIZZA Location: 50 NE First Ave., Boca Raton FL 33432 [map] Phone: 561-361-6655
COAL MINE PIZZA Location: Royal Palm Place, 399 SE Mizner Blvd., Boca Raton FL 33432 [map] Phone: 561-826-2625 Website: coalminepizza.com
File this under Why Didn't This Happen Sooner?
Boca Raton, Florida, is now home to not one but two coal-oven pizzerias. The first, Red Rock Coal Fired Pizza, which we were remiss in alerting you to, opened in late 1995. Now there's a second, Coal Mine Pizza, just around the corner.
Ma and Pa Slice used to live in Wellington, Florida, about 30 miles northwest of Boca. Had these coal burners opened prior to December 2004, I would have had an easy excuse to visit them while on holiday in the Sunshine State.
About Coal Mine, the South Florida Sun-Sentinel says:
There are 10 specialty pizzas and I can heartily recommend the Amazing Artichoke, a combination of artichokes, Parmesan, Romano and mozzarella. Like every pizza here, the crust is crisp and almost cracker-like. I'm such a fan of crisp pizza crust that even here, I ask for an extra crispy pizza. I believe that when you pick up a piece of pizza, the skinny tip should stay crispy and not point downward. Coal Mine Pizza is a winner.
While New York City has banned coal pizza ovens because they pollute, they seem to be enjoying a moment in the South Florida sun just now. My until-recently coal oven-less neighborhood will soon be home to two such restaurants.
It really is interesting to see coal-oven pizza migrate beyond its home in the Northeast. My guess is that the owners of such establishments take great risks in introducing this exotic pizza specimen to new environments. Whether it's Grimaldi's and its outpost in Scottsdale, Arizona, or these two establishments in Boca, the owners of non–Pizza Belt coal-burners have much more work than putting in an oven, breaking it in, and making sure their pizzaioli know how to cook pies with it.
No, these owners have the additional burden of educating the locals with regard to coal-oven pies. For instance: Those spotty charred bits on the bottom? You want that—it adds a pleasant smoky flavor to the crust. I'd imagine that more than a few customers will complain about "burnt" pizzas if they're not used to coal pizzerias. And it's likely a delicate balance to strike between making the pies right and bending to complaints, thereby producing an inferior pizza unworthy of the oven it came out of.
But Boca is ripe with retired New Yorkers, and I'd imagine there's a fair number of expats in Scottsdale, too. If any of you are reading this and have been to Red Rock, Coal Mine, or the Scottsdale Grimaldi's, give us a shout and let Slice know how they stack up.
And Ma and Pa Slice: Why'd you have to move back to Kansas!?
The Cyclone has been ridden and the pizza has been eaten, and so spring begins for Slice.
Earlier today, Seltzerboy and I were joined by five friends of Slice in a tradition he and I have shared since 2001, way back in the pre-Slice era. On hand for the coaster ride were Dan, Katie, Tien, and our Queens correspondent, Chito. We met up in front of the 'Clone, bought tickets ($5 a ride), and submitted our bodies for a little Jazz Age G-force testing.
New York is the king of pizza cities. Oh, yes, there are other pretenders to the pizza crown. Naples has its adherents, those who champion that beautiful city's high-lipped, slightly wet pies made in gorgeous wood-burning ovens. Chicagoans love their deep-dish pizza, and it is in fact a mighty tasty casserole, but one kind of pizza does not make a strong enough case for designating a city pizza royalty. New Havenites proudly point to the gorgeous, asymmetrical pies that come out of the coal-fired ovens of Sally's and Pepe's. Those are righteous pies indeed, but, again, you have to be able to show some pizza breadth. Pizza variety is why New York City sits comfortably on its pizza throne.
Posted by Adam Kuban, February 21, 2006 at 10:55 AM
What up, home slices? We received an e-mail inquiry over the weekend as well as some comments asking if we knew anything about John's Pizza on Bleecker going through renovations. Word is that half the joint is closed for remodeling.
I was too busy over the weekend preparing for travel, so I didn't have time to investigate.
Readers? Report! Leave any intel in the Comments section of this post.
Posted by Adam Kuban, February 10, 2006 at 1:38 AM
A tipster tipped us to the fact that Lower East Side coal-burner Luzzo's will be featured on Martha this morning. New Yorkers can tune in to the show on WNBC-4 at 11 a.m. Anyone else, check your local listings.
LUZZO'S Location: 211-13 First Ave. (b/n 12th and 13th streets) [map] Phone: 212-473-7447
Friends of Slice Listmaker and Youthlarge were car-sitting last week. Listmaker wanted to make the most of their automotive-having days, so he suggested a pizza excursion at some point during the holidays.
Wanting to make the most of car access myself, I suggested Tosca Café in the Throgs Neck section of The Bronx, a spot that would normally be a bit difficult to reach via public transport (right).
Listmaker, Youthlarge, and I set off around 7 p.m. on Friday, picked up their friend Dave, and we all made it to Tosca by 8 p.m. or so—after a few wrong turns.
Tosca Café's got a coal oven, and that's a big deal. Coal-burners are a sort of holy grail in this town, as some of the best and oldest pizzerias use them to produce amazing pizzas. Such ovens are capable of reaching the insanely hot temperatures needed to make a pie crisp and give it oven spring while still yielding a satisfying chewiness and pliability in the crust. This trip was a big deal for me, too, because Tosca's long been on the Slice "places to try" list.
The New York Post comes through with a story on the Lombardi's centennial, giving a rundown on the place's 100-year (give or take) history. Lombardi's is, as many of our longtime readers know, the first licensed pizzeria in the United States—it got its pizza creds in 1905 when Gennaro Lombardi opened it up the street from its current location. To find out why it moved and read more about the history, click through to the story [A Pizza Party]. I'm out the door for work and don't have time to digest it for you.
What I want you to take from this entry, however, is this: November 10. 5¢ pies. To mimic the cost of a pizza in 1905. Not even Wal-Mart rolls prices back that far.
I really enjoy your site. Thought I'd give back a bit and send in a report from the field.
The other day I went to Totonno's and Grimaldi's. I'd wanted to try both places for a long time, and since I had the time, I couldn't resist going for it with both. I had one large, half-cheese and half–roasted pepper at both places.
The Post gives props to East Village coal-burner Luzzo's in a story cleverly headlined Old King Coal. (Heh, those merry old souls that are the copy editors there.) What they say:
Lombardi's, Patsy's, Grimaldi's, Totonno's, John's. Aside from rabid fans, there's one thing these legendary New York pizzerias have in common: coal-burning ovens.
The super-hot kilns, aficionados agree, can elevate a pie to greatness by perfectly charring the crust and imparting a smoky flavor. But there are only a handful of them left, since city codes prohibit new coal ovens from being built.
"Nobody can get them. They're like taxi medallions," says restaurateur Charles LoPresto, who recently opened Luzzo's Ristorante in a First Avenue space with an existing, but decrepit, coal oven. By New York City law, they cannot be used unless they're grandfathered in.
"But they make the best pizza, and if they weren't prohibited, people would be constructing them." ...
One bite of Iuliano's Neopolitan-style pie proves it's crisp on the outside, tender within. A few dollops of buffalo mozzarella lend a creamy fresh counterpoint to a skim of tomato sauce that's uncooked, save for a three- to four-minute stint in the oven.
Slice was last at Luzzo's late last year, as part of an East Village pizza crawl that never made its way onto the site because my iBook fried and I lost my tasting notes and photos. We'll have to go back to Luzzo's again. The times we've been there, we found the crust to be crisp and chewy, exquisitely light, but a little bland and devoid of the nice char we like on Totonno's or Patsy's or Grimaldi's pies.
Newsday today has a nice, witty review of Sac's Place Pizza, the coal-oven joint in Astoria, Queens. We like the way the author, Josh Ozersky (aka Mr. Cutlets, "New York's Most Conspicuous Carnivore"), starts the story:
Joel Cimineri has run out of dough for the last time.
Brooklyn's legendary pizza man — who manned the oven at Totonno's in Coney Island and famously closed for the day if he ran out of dough — died this week from diabetes. He was 59.
A Brooklyn legend, Cimineri not only helped keep alive a pizza-making tradition dating from the turn of the 19th century, but with every thin-crusted pizza he made, he stood up against fast-food culture.
"We live in a Burger King world of 'Have it your way,' " said Dick Zigun, who runs the Coney Island sideshow. "But when you ate at Totonno's, you were with a loving Italian family that did it their way"
Cimineri learned the art of pizza-making from his uncle-in-law, Jerry Pero, who learned it from his father, who learned it from Gennaro Lombardi — the man who brought pizza to America more than 100 years ago....
Posted by seltzerboy, November 30, 2004 at 1:50 AM
JOHN'S DOUGH: John's Pizza of Bleecker has an impeccable pizza pedigree; it can trace its lineage to Lombardi's, New York's original pizzeria.
Words By Seltzerboy .::. Photographs By Adam K. .::. Just when you thought pizza parties were restricted to young people and young weblogs, in walks Danny Stiles, surely one of America’s oldest deejays. As he has done for the past few years or so, Mr. Stiles will be having his annual anniversary/birthday “surprise” party at John’s Pizzeria in Times Square. On December 6, Mr. Stiles will welcome an odd mix of celebrities (Uncle Floyd, Bob Grant, and Kitty Kallen will all be there) and pizza connoisseurs alike from 6 to 11 p.m., marking 81 years since his birth and 57 years since the birth of his radio career.
Mr. Stiles has been known to tout the virtues of John’s (and pretty much every other advertiser) every chance he gets. He still reads live commercials, so the line between shtick and substance is never clear. That’s where we come in.
Despite Mr. Stiles’s claims to the contrary (“the greatest pizza anywhere”), Slice has had some difficulty with John’s recently. Several months ago, the Slice Pizza Club congregated at the Bleecker Street location. We left a little disappointed, to say the least.
John’s, named after founder John Sasso, comes from an established pizza pedigree. With its coveted oven (see photo, top right), pristine locale, and patriarchal heritage, it’s regarded as a must-see in countless tourist guides and self-important foodie tomes. Enticing as it may seem to the naked eye, John’s produces pizza that’s downright depressing: sauce without spice, cheese without charm, even a coal-fired crust without char. Each pie was so dry, all of us wondered if they had run out of olive oil that night. In fact, a few of us have had several lunchtime deliveries from the Times Square branch that tasted a little better. Greatest pizza anywhere, Mr. Stiles? As Slice devotee Tien Mao noted at the time, “This may not even be the best pizza on the block.” Although with the closing of Joe’s of Bleecker Street, John’s may move to the top of that narrow list by default.
After 75 years in business, John’s has not aged nearly as well as Mr. Stiles (left), who still champions the crooners and composers, big-band leaders, and swingers and singers from the first half of the twentieth century—“the records every other station forgot about,” he often laments. Even more appealing than the music is the personality Mr. Stiles brings to the stage, peppering plays from his vast library of 78s and 45s with flamboyant phrasings, reminiscences, and narishkeit.
Still stamping his sentences with dozens of alliterative phrasings for himself ("the dean of dusty discs," "the vector of the Victrola," and "the guru of the golden Gramophone" are a few favorites that come to mind), Stiles On Your Dials has had 24 radio homes throughout the years, including three today. The clearest signal to reach him is via WNYC-AM on Saturdays. Since this conflicts with other programming, you will probably want to surf around the far reaches of the AM band late at night; he can be heard on a couple of low-bandwidth New Jersey stations, including WNSW, weeknights at 10 p.m.
Turn to Mr. Stiles for some Benny Goodman and bubbe meises. Just tune out his pizza advice.
Finding Patsy Grimaldi's name on a pizzeria out in Phoenix, amid all that sun and desert, is weird. Anyone who knows Patsy can only picture his coal-fired pizza oven glowing in the long shadows of the Brooklyn Bridge's eastern arch, with the patient lines of hungry customers outside and a firm no-delivery policy inside (except in the old days when Frank Sinatra ordered out from the Waldorf-Astoria or sent a plane from Los Angeles for two score of Patsy's pies). "I'm retired now," explains Patsy. "But franchised, kind of."
It's not like he's Brooklyn's answer to Colonel Sanders. So far there are just a precious few other Grimaldis out there and Patsy says he insists on personally training this new generation to make pies the way his late uncle, Patsy Lancieri, taught him 60 years ago in Harlem - with the special dough recipe and only fresh ingredients from Italy, of course, but always in an oven built the old way from brick and fired the old way by coal, not by gas as most modern pizzeria ovens are.
"Fifty years ago, 100 years ago, that's all they had in the city was coal ovens," Patsy says, proud to be handing on his retro-coal technique to Phoenix. By his account, the coal-brick approach produces far more heat (800 degrees plus) than gas, and thereby fierce-to-subtle hot spots of artistry to make the pie bubble, crisp and lightly char. "Far better flavor," Patsy assures, particularly for those who had their first taste of pizza after World War II, when soldiers came home with tales of discovering it in Italy. Pizza has since become a ubiquitous industry in America with flavors running from rare ambrosia to mall-rat flannel. It inevitably created a connoisseur craving for the real deal, the sort of pie that perennially has Grimaldi's rated among New York's best. "Everybody's advertising 'brick-oven,' but not with the coal," Patsy cautions. "These guys know nothing about pizza."
How Old Are You Now:Slice celebrated its one-year anniversary on Wednesday evening at Patsy's in East Harlem. Patsy's is one of our favorite pizzerias and is notable for being one of the few coal-fired-oven shops that sells pizza by the slice—for a buck fifty, no less (top right).
PATSY'S Location: 2287 First Ave. (b/n 117th/118th) Getting There: 6 train to 116th; walk east to First; turn right; walk 1.5 blocks up Payment: Cash only The Skinny: One of our favorite pizzerias, but has suffered from inconsistent pie quality of late. Stick to the plain pies, either regular or fresh mozzarella, and try going with a number of people—multiple pies guarantee that you'll get at least one or two superb pizzas.
I hate the sight of a baby in a restaurant. Those fat little saps can't appreciate the food. They crap themselves. And, worse, they're prone to noisy outbursts. But when the baby in question is Slice and it's celebrating its first birthday, things are different. And so on Wednesday night I found myself at Patsy's in East Harlem, with a handful of Slice readers, as we marked this site's first anniversary with a very special Pizza Club.
With its coal-fired oven; tasty pies; legendary provenance; and large, downbeat dining room, Patsy's was the natural choice for the occasion.
In his book American Pie, Peter Reinhart describes two kinds of perfect pizzas: the contextually perfect pizza and the technically perfect pizza. The contextually perfect pie, he says, might not be perfect in execution, but for some reason it's the perfect pizza at that time. Maybe, as a cash-strapped graduate student, it was the place you began your first date with the woman who, a couple years later, would become your wife. Sure they used canned mushrooms and their crust was a little too thick, but you can't order a pie there without thinking of how nervous you were meeting her there before heading off to see Titanic. Or maybe it's the only place you can afford to take your kids when you have 'em for the weekend 'cause your lying cheat of a husband left you for that tramp, gained custody, and then took half your goddamn money, but gee how those kids love that pizza and damn how they look at you when you indulge them in the doughy goodness that their Atkins-following dirtbag of a father denies them. That is contextually perfect pie. Technically perfect pie is like the pizzas that a coworker and I had last night at Una Pizza Napoletana.
The first time I had Patsy's, it embodied both kinds of perfection. From the red patinated neon sign in the window to the empty, dimly lit dining room with its Frank Sinatra portrait on the wall and its black-and-white penny-round tile floor—this was a classic Italian eatery (even though it was by then owned by Albanians). Heck, I half expected to find a gun taped behind the toilet tank. And the pizza itself, my word. Thin, light, crisp charred crust. Perfect balance of cheese and sauce. Excellent toppings. You get the picture. It has been a favorite of mine since.
Joining me on this auspicious evening were seven guests. Slice's metro editor, Seltzerboy, had tickets to the Yankees game and sadly could not join us. As for our roving reporter E-Rock, I sent that sumbitch to Chicago as punishment for having missed too many pizza clubs in the past. (He will, of course, provide a full report of his deep-dish detention session.) Among the illustrious guests were veteran pizza clubbers Tien, Janelle and Joe S. Rounding out the party were first-timers "JXM" (a good friend I was happy to see there), Youngna, Danny G., and Jen from Gothamist.*
What can I say about Patsy's that I haven't already said? Once all the guests that seemed likely to come had arrived, we ordered four pies: a plain with regular mozzarella, a plain with fresh mozzarella, a sausage-and-onion pie, and a mushroom pie. First out was the sausage and onion (above right). Normally my favorite combo for a pie, the meat and vegetable proved to be tasty but sog inducing. This was universally the least favorite pie at the table.
Next out were the plain pies—both the regular- and fresh-mozzarella varieties. These were well received, with a couple Patsy's first-timers commenting that they represented the best pizza they had ever had. Unfortunately, I had had better from Patsy's. While not as soggy as the plain regular-mozz pie I had on Tuesday night (I was doing pre-club recon work), it wasn't up to the level of quality of which I knew Patsy's was capable. The mushroom pie, which followed quickly on the heels of the two plains, also was not well received (though it did prove more popular than the sausage pie). Mushrooms, with the large volume of water they release while cooking, are notorious crust soakers.
By 9 o'clock, we were down to a single slice of regular plain and one of mushroom, thanks largely to Tien trying to determine how few bites it would take for him to eat a slice (right).
That's when Danny G., who we had written off as a no-show, walked in. He made quick work of the two remaining slices and we ordered another plain regular-mozzarella pie. Out in no time at all (it only takes about four minutes for a pie to cook in the coal oven at Patsy's), this pie put all the others to shame. It was the perfect pie, technically, and even Patsy's first-timers could tell that it was markedly better than the rest.
Contextually, I'd say Patsy's is still tops. Our waiters, Joey and Victor were, in that New York sort of way, hard-edged yet friendly. They were fast, attentive, and willing to answer many of the questions that this inquisitive crowd had, so we were especially sorry to have almost stiffed them on the tip. (With the excitement involved in raffling off a copy of American Pie, which went to Joe S., this reporter forgot about leaving the gratuity on the table.) Technically, however, the last few times I've been to Patsy's, there has been a disturbing consistency of inconsistency. Time was you could count on a superb pie. Now, it seems, there's a great-pie–merely-OK-pie ratio of 1:2 or, at worst, 1:3.
Given its place in our cheese-clogged hearts, we hope that this is just a phase for Patsy's, and we're going to hold off downgrading it from Eight-Slice status (eight of eight is our highest rating). But be warned when you visit Patsy's: You might want to go with a large group so you're sure to get at least one or two transcendent pies.
###
All images by Tien Mao, except top right and bottom right, which are by Joe Schumacher. (Out of spite, E-Rock took the Slice digicam to the Windy City.)
* It was fitting that Ms. Chung was in attendance because when I started Slice, Gothamist was one of the blogs I looked to as an example of what to do and how to present information. Friendly in tone, enthusiastic, and decidedly not cooler-than-you, Gothamist's support in terms of mentioning Slice now and again and then linking to us has been invaluable. Plus, I sorta "borrowed" their templates (their design is aces) and Jake was nice enough to let me keep using them when he found out.
Newsday has a story about an uptick in new coal-oven pizzerias in Queens and Long Island. Timely, because Grimaldi's just opened its Garden City, L.I., branch two days ago. Most Slice readers know what makes coal-oven pizza so good, so we'll leave you to read that part of the story for yourself. Here are choice excerpts, though, that we think you should be aware of:
Whereas gas ovens can be ordered from a restaurant-supply house, a coal oven must be built on the premises (to the tune of about $30,000). No two ovens are alike, but according to Vincent Amato, whose company, Triple V Contracting, builds and maintains coal ovens, the basic design is the same: a big box constructed of some combination of bricks, mortar, cement, sand and cinderblock.
Once a coal oven is built, Grimaldi's Contreras said, it takes a few weeks of full-throttle operation for it to "season," for all the water in the mortar to evaporate, the bricks to settle and the walls to heat through. Eventually, the walls will get so hot that even after sitting fireless all night, it will take only two hours in the morning for the oven to reach 900 degrees.
The oven Triple V built for Massa's is about 8 feet wide by 8 feet deep and is set on a reinforced platform underneath which are two compartments, one for fresh coal, one for expended ash. Set into the box at chest height is a door that opens onto the cooking deck.
Every morning Bill Massa builds a small wood fire on the deck just inside the door. When it's good and hot, he shovels on a pile of coal and lets it catch the heat. Throughout the day, new coal is added to keep the fire constant. Around 4 every afternoon, the hot coals are stoked - churned up - and ashes are swept into the grate for disposal.
Cooking in a coal oven requires diligence, as well. "A pizza takes 3 1/2 minutes in this oven," said Salvatore's Fred Lacagnina. "Ten seconds more, and it's overdone." Added Contreras: "If you break a pie and it bleeds on the deck of the oven, that part of the deck is useless for hours."
Posted by Adam Kuban, September 1, 2004 at 11:45 PM
dynamic duoSally's Apizza and Frank Pepe's Pizzeria Napoletana were the two stops Slice made during the Pizza Club road trip to New Haven, Conn., on Saturday. Plenty of pizza was ordered from both venerable establishments. Above left is a large mozzarella pie from Sally's; above right, a large mozzarella pie (background) and a large white-clam pie (foreground) from Pepe's. Both pizzerias are so popular that lines form down the block, as can be seen below (Sally's left, Pepe's right).
words by Adam K.:: photographs by Adam K.andAmanda G.| When last we left you, we had just finished eating at Frank Pepe's, one of New Haven's storied pizzerias. The folks at Pepe's showed us a good time and we ate lots and lots of pizza. "Lots and lots" is an understatement. We were gorged. As in eyes bigger than stomachs. Frankly, we were worried that we wouldn't have room for Sally's Apizza, which is just a couple blocks west of Pepe's on Wooster Street. But, we figured, we'd have to wait on line at Sally's and would be hungry by the time we got in.
On line by 4:40 p.m., we waited until a few minutes after 5. That's when someone flipped the lock, opened the door, and asked, "Anyone with reservations? Come on." So there is a secret reservation system. Slice had heard from Ed Levine when we ran into him at Totonno's that there were special times you could call to get reservations, and this confirmed it. A party of 10 jumped ahead by virtue of its reservations, but since we were the second party in line, we were among the first seating of the day.
What greeted us was a charmingly rec-roomish wood-paneled dining area. With its gilt-frame photos, big comfy vinyl booths, and 1960s light fixtures, it looked like the neighborhood pub your gramps took you to when he had to watch you for the day but still wanted a beer with his buddies (think Archie Bunker's Place, or just take a gander at the photo at left). Some folks in our party felt the decor left something to be desired; this reporter felt right at home. But we weren't there for the atmosphere—we were there for the pizza, and after about 10 minutes, our waiter came over to apprise us of the daily specials and take our order.
Still stuffed from the fare at Pepe's, we figured we'd go for three medium pies: one with mozzarella (or, "mootz"), one white clam, and one from the specials menu—topped with thinly sliced potato and onion. Our waiter seemed disappointed with the order, advising us that one medium would feed two people at most and that we had a party of 10. "We've eaten a lot today. I think we'll be fine with the three mediums to start. We'll order more if we're still hungry."
Uh uh. Big no. We were told that the lag time between ordering and receiving was such that it wouldn't be prudent to employ this strategy. After a little more back and forth with the waiter on how much pizza would feed how many people, we stuck to our guns—and with our original order. To that we added a round of beers for half the table, an assortment of sodas, and water all around.
I don't know if it was at this point that our waiter deemed us less than human, but we might as well get this out of the way: If it's good service you want, you should not sally forth to Sally's Apizza. From this point on, we might as well have been dead to the staff at this place. Pizza persona non grata. Public-pizza enemies Nos. 1 through 10. You get the picture.
It was hot as the devil in the front of the dining room (you can see how sapped the gang was at right), and it took about fifteen minutes before the drinks arrived. One pitcher of water for ten folks and only eight glasses. Numerous requests for additional glasses were met with complete stonewalling at best and silent contempt at worst—all while the table of what appeared to locals behind us had no trouble getting many rounds of orange sodas. At one point, one of our normally mild-mannered pizza club members grumbled, "This goddam pizza better be f**kin' good, 'cause this goddam service f**kin' sucks."
Did I mention it was hot in there? The weird thing was that when you ventured to the curiously secure bathrooms, it was icy cold near the oven. (They must use the majority of the aircon power to keep the kitchen staff comfortable at the expense of the patrons.)
But enough grumbling. The pizza was sublime. The mozz pie (above) was consistently thin and crisp and gained an interesting texture from a scattering of cornmeal on the bottom. We imagine Sally's uses the cornmeal to keep the pie from sticking to the peel as they slide it into the oven. Absent were the puffy doughy regions that were evident at Pepe's. A member of our group said he thought that Pepe's was great New Haven pizza, but that this pie was like "gourmet New Haven pizza—a notch above." As at Pepe's, it seemed the oil had again separated from the cheese and had helped almost "fry" it on top, turning it golden-brownish orange (above and right).
The clam pie, too, was good, but consensus was that Pepe's, with its whole clams, was better. And the potato-and-onion pie was delicious—crisp on the bottom (crust) and top (thinly sliced potato) and spiked with rosemary and oregano.
After eating, we were eager to leave. It was just too hot, we were too stuffed, and we were tired from digesting the copious amount of clams, cheese, and crust in our stomachs. Again, it was next to impossible to get the waiter's attention. We eventually had to get up and grab someone to come bring us the check, but not after we considered trying the old dine and dash. I mean, heck, they weren't paying attention to us anyway, so why not? But we at Slice are upstanding citizens, and we settled up what we owed and left without incident.
It was at that point that the Cat Price guys came by, camera in hand, to get our thoughts on the experience. In a nutshell: Pepe's for clam pies, Sally's for mozz; Pepe's for friendly welcoming service, Sally's if you want to feel like a Republican delegate in New York City for the GOP convention (or a New York–pizza advocate in New Haven).
Dynamic Duo: Frank Pepe's Pizzeria Napoletana and Sally's Apizza were the two stops Slice made during the Pizza Club road trip to New Haven, Conn., on Saturday. Plenty of pizza was ordered from both venerable establishments. Above left is a large mozzarella pie (background) and a large white-clam pie (foreground) from Pepe's; above right is a large mozzarella pie from Sally's. Both pizzerias are so popular that lines form down the block, as can be seen below (Pepe's left, Sally's right).
Three cars. Seventy-nine point nine miles. Ten people. Two pizzerias. Nine pies. One hundred and twenty-some dollars. That's the Slice New Haven trip by the numbers.
We left Greenpoint, Brooklyn, at 12:30 p.m. Saturday and arrived at Wooster Street, home to New Haven's famous Frank Pepe's and Sally's Apizza, around 3 p.m. We were there to try New Haven–style pie, which only a few among us had had before. We'd heard that the pizza in this seaside Connecticut town was as good as, if not better than, New York's best and we wanted to try for ourselves. Our plan was to get hit Frank Pepe's around 2 p.m., eat some pie, take some photos, talk to some folks, and then get out and get in line at Sally's Apizza by 4:30 p.m. for the joint's 5 p.m. opening. (A kind reader had tipped us that we needed to be outside Sally's by that time to get in for the first seating of the day.)
We arrived a little later than planned and got on line at Pepe's around 3:15 p.m. After a 15-minute wait, we were in. The short wait gave Seltzerboy and I a chance to talk to filmmakers Michael Dorian and Joe dos Santos (left, from left) of Cat Price Productions. The pair were shooting video for a documentary about pizza and were in New Haven killing two birds with one stone—documenting Pepe's and talking to Slice editors. [The rest of the epic journey to Pepe's, after the jump.]
The incomparable Lockhart Steele, oh he of Curbed fame, e-mailed Slice this evening with a report that Lombardi's is taking over and expanding into the space that used to house the Nolita Lounge. He was also kind enough to send us a couple photos of the work in progress (above and below), complete with "new banners (sample: ZAGAT SURVEY "BEST PIZZA ON THE PLANET")."
JOHN'S OF BLEECKER Slice Pizza Club No. 4 met at John's of Bleecker, 278 Bleecker Street, yesterday evening. It was the first pizza club held on Manhattan soil.
This entry is essentially a placeholder and acknowledgement that, Yes, Slice Pizza Club No. 4 did indeed meet last night. Though we originally met at John's, the evening turned into a Bleecker Street pizza crawl, and hit up Bleecker Street Pizza and Joe's on the corner of Bleecker and Carmine (but not Famous Joe's in the middle of the block on Carmine). We capped off the evening with dessert at Mary's Dairy.
After all that food, I went home and fell asleep, my stomach no doubt draining my energy as it wrestled the twin dairy demons of cheese and ice cream.
You're going to have to wait until later this evening or tomorrow morning to read the full report, but till then, amuse yourself with this image above right. This obviously collaged picture sits in the window of John's and probably goes a long way toward explaining the blessed nature of Slice's favorite food.
[Slice does not discriminate on the basis of religion, race, color, creed, gender, or sexual orientation. All pizzerias with pie-themed religious imagery are welcome on this site, no matter what faith. (We do discriminate against Chicago-style, however. That stuff's the devil's work.)]
THERE AND HERE Lombardi's, at 32 Spring Street in Manhattan, is both old and new. The original Lombardi's, licensed to sell pizza in 1905, was located at 53½ Spring Street. It closed some time ago and was reopened by the the original Lombardi's grandson in 1994 at 32 Spring Street.
Sometimes the Slice editorial team gets so caught up in search of the consummate New York pie, we often lose sight of how pampered pizza life in this town can be. Not that the arcana of turning coals (Lombardi's coal-fired oven is pictured at right) to produce a consistently charred crust isn't worthy of discussion; obviously it is, or none of us would be here. But every now and then, it's nice to get a kick in the tuches from outside the concrete jungle to remind us of the suffering that pizza lovers endure in much of the country.
Such was my experience after dining at Lombardi's a few weeks ago. Last month, my family was paid a visit by some of our oldest companeros, who flew three thousand miles with the stated goal of eating well—or at least well enough—for one week. New Yorkers by pedigree, all granted me a few hours' reprieve from suburban ennui to indulge, among other things, their taste buds.
If you find opinion polls accurate and important, then Lombardi's serves up as fine a pie as you're ever likely to slide onto your palate: Seven of the group's eight eaters are still salivating. If you're a skeptic by nature, or can't distinguish Gallup from a gallop or a galop, then perhaps you'll join me in taking the road less traveled. For the purists among us, sadly, Lombardi's has become another frayed page in Gotham's gastronomic history book.
As loyal Slice readers know, Lombardi's is the elder statesman of New York pizza. Founded by Gennaro Lombardi nearly one hundred years ago, this is America's original pizzeria (even if it is a few doors down from the patriarch's famed beginnings). Genetically speaking, every pizzeria is indebted to it. Culinarily speaking, this grande dame has seen better days. Its sons and grandsons—Patsy's, Totonno's, and Nick's among them—may be younger, but most of them are also much wiser, at least at making pizza.
We ordered three pies (see photo at left), sampling an array of toppings: sausage, mushrooms, and meatballs, in addition to the standard variety. None of the toppings jumps out as especially abundant or tasty, with the exception of fresh garlic (there's no charge; just ask). As for the basics, the fresh mozzarella is the highlight of the Lombardi's pie: smooth, sumptuous, and stellar—and it comes standard on all pies. The sauce was slightly tangy but lacked spice. I wonder if they've heard of oregano and basil, a few delicate herbs that might have elevated an otherwise average sauce beyond just "simply red."
There may be a more logical explanation for our pies' mediocrity. The crust was so unusually thick it made for a doughy delivery that distracted from the other flavors. And it got worse with each pie; number three was one of the thickest I've had in a while, and was even tough to chew in places. Even the vaunted coal-fired char couldn't outweigh these pies' rubber bottoms.
Why the disparity between my opinion and others'? Who can say. I recall Lombardi's serving a solid pie as recently as three years ago; this was the others' inaugural sampling. I have eaten more pies than I care to count from places like Di Fara; most members of my group are normally content driving through Fast Food Nation. (As family friend RL noted while his slice dripped olive-oil tears, "The only oil we get in California is from Jiffy Lube.")
So perhaps Lombardi's does serve a need. Most visitors are desperate to get their hands around a supple slice but aren't eager to stray far from downtown. Tucked into a charming double storefront just a stone's throw from Ethnictown, Lombardi's is convenient, inexpensive, and friendly. For those with just a few hours or even a few days to see the sights, Lombardi's has held up much better than its Little Italy famiglia and offers a solid if spare representation from the canon of New York pizza. But for locals and intrepid visitors interested in maximizing their exposure to pizza perfection, just a slight sleuthing of the streets will reap much greater rewards.
THUMBPRINT Twenty-seven years ago, after Seltzerboy broke his right arm, RL (above left) gave the 4-year-old tyke and his mom a lift to the hospital. Seltzerboy returned the favor last month by giving RL and his clan a ride to the pizza place of his dreams. PLIGHT AT THE ROUND TABLE Seltzerboy, his family, and a few lifelong friends (above right) enjoy an afternoon at Lombardi's last month. While the company was great, the pies at the Little Italy pizzeria were uneven.
A HAVEN FOR PIZZA LOVERS Frank Pepe (left) of Frank Pepe's and the crew at Sally's Apizza (right). These New Haven, Connecticut, pizzerias are said to rival (some even say surpass) New York City's legacy pizzerias.
HOLY SMOKE! A new coal-oven place has opened recently. Named Luzzo's. It's at 211-13 First Avenue, between 12th and 13th. Here's what NYMetro has to say about it:
Coal-burning ovens are hot commodities for pizza makers. Thanks to city codes, the only way to get one is to inherit it—which is what Charles LoPresto has done at Luzzo's, his new East Village restaurant. At one time, the spare, bare-bones space housed a bakery read more ...
Garden State Slice [This is the debut entry of Amanda G., our New Jersey bureau chief. She'll be checking out pizzerias west of the Hudson for Slice. — Ed.]
CLOCKWISE FROM TOP LEFT: The Grimaldi's in Hoboken is on the corner of Clinton and Second streets, a short walk from the Hoboken PATH station. Like its namesake east of the Hudson, this Grimaldi's has a coal-fired oven. Our New Jersey bureau chief's half-pepperoni–half-mushroom-olive pie. | Photographs by Amanda G.
I had high hopes for our trip to the Hoboken branch of Grimaldi's. My husband, Steve, and I had eaten there a couple of times when we lived down the street. We had ordered take-out on occasion, and I remembered the pizza having a chewy crust that was perfectly charred; a bright sauce; and mild, melty cheese.
So when Steve, my sister, and I headed over there for dinner recently, I was expecting, more or less, pizza perfection. What we got was anything but, despite a pleasant atmosphere (I do love the red-and-white tablecloths) and a well-dressed salad to start things off. We ordered a large pie, half pepperoni and half mushroom and olive. It was delivered to our table with a flourish, and looked delicious. But when we prodded it gently with the provided spatula to remove the first slice, a soupy center came to light. There was a small puddle of liquid pooled on top of the pie and underneath the crust. I attempted the Fold Hold, to no avail, and had to eat the pizza with a knife and fork.
The slice, to its credit, tasted good, despite the mushy foundation. All the toppings were fresh (well, apart from the olives, which seemed canned) and the sauce had the perfect balance of ripe sweetness and bright tang. The pepperoni was meaty and spicy and didn't require major effort to chew, which was good. I particularly enjoyed the cheese, which cooled quickly and made for easier eating.
But that sorry, soggy, soupy crust ruined it for me. I missed taking that first bite of the slice, where your teeth push through the cheese and it just burns the roof of your mouth a little before you pierce the crust with a satisfying crunch. I tried to simulate the experience by piling some of the sauce, cheese, and toppings onto a bit of the handle-crust that remained crisp, but it wasn't the same.
Of course, this beautiful state of ours has plenty of other fine pizza parlors to visit, including local favorites right in town (East Brunswick) like American Pie and Stefano's. This Pizza Patrol is on the move. ... Till next time.
Fire it up: Grimaldi's, whose oven is pictured above, is one of the few New York City pizzerias using coal as a fuel. Though some amazingpizzas have come from regular gas-fired ovens, a coal oven is capable of producing a crust like no other.
My dear pizza pupils, it's been a while since we've given you a reading assignment. Lucky for you, the required material on our syllabus does not require you to take a test, and it's actually fun to read—especially this particular selection.
Recently, while conducting web-assisted research on coal-oven pizza, we ran across an electronic version of a favorite Jeffrey Steingarten column, "Perfection Pizza," which appears in his book It Must Have Been Something I Ate. We've mentioned this essay in our "Bookshelf" section, and we're pleased to be able to link you to it. From beginning to end, this is a thoroughly entertaining and educational story about the storied coal ovens of New York City and one man's quest to reproduce their effects at home. Here's how the piece opens:
No Pizza for You, Joey: Joey Ramone, whose birthday was yesterday, in a video capture from the movie Rock 'N' Roll High School. To the right of Joey's head, you can make out the stack of pizza boxes that the rest of the band is tearing into. The band's manager only lets Joey eat health food.
Yesterday, May 19, was Joey Ramone's birthday. Although the frontman of legendary punk rock band The Ramones died in April 2001 of lymphatic cancer, his friends and family have continued to throw the annual bash that had been his tradition.
To honor Joey in our own little way, we present to you a couple of our favorite scenes from the 1979 movie Rock 'n' Roll High School.
On the beautiful day that was last Saturday, Slice Pizza Club No. 3 convened at Sac's Place Pizza in Astoria. Five people sat down to lunch that afternoon, including this reporter, who also served as the lone representative of this publication. This is the story of what they ate.
Our newly appointed New Jersey bureau chief was able to procure a menu from the Grimaldi's in Hoboken. You'll notice that this menu has a more detailed account of the whole Patsy's–Grimaldi's name-change controversy. We're still not sure if that's the whole story or whether it only confuses us more, but we thought we'd share it with you.
Notice how this location accepts credit cards. Though this menu doesn't say it, this location delivers (with a $12 minimum)! That'll be just one more thing for our Jersey friends to crow about.
Anyway, you're probably wondering if our new New Jersey connection filed a report on the Hoboken Grimaldi's ...
Thanks to reader Greg, we're able to present to you the pizza-family-tree graphic that originally ran with Eric Asimov's June 10, 1998, New York Times story "New York Pizza, the Real Thing, Makes a Comeback."
It's a little blurry—it's difficult to get a good photo in low light and when you're trying to get newsprint into focus—but we think you'll be able to read it.
What do you get when you mix a beautiful Saturday afternoon, a visiting food-loving Aussie (by way of London), and a walk over the Brooklyn Bridge? With the proper catalyst (in this case, a Slice editor), your result is lunch at Grimaldi's Pizzeria.
Located at 19 Old Fulton Street, almost directly under the historic bridge, Grimaldi's is the place to stop for a post-journey meal (provided you walked from Manhattan to Brooklyn). And so it was with our weekend excursion to this coal-oven shop in the, uh, Brooklyn Heights? DUMBO? Vinegar Hill? section of the BK.
Special Ed:Besides the spectacular turn-out for this month's Pizza Club at Totonno's in Coney Island, we were also excited to meet Ed Levine, who writes about food for the New York Times. From left: Seltzerboy, Adam, Totonno pizziola Lawrence Ciminieri, and Mr. Levine, who happened to be at the pizzeria doing research for an upcoming book on pizza and who was kind enough to give us some tips for upcoming pizza road trips.
Timing is everything. We learned that thrice over earlier today down in Coney Island, where Slice editors were joined by ten readers brave—or foolhardy—enough to tackle Nathan's, the Cyclone, and some of the best pizza in the city.
There's been some talk about the East Harlem Patsy's lately in the Simply the Best section over to the right. Some people (me) have raved about it, while others (Greg, C. Mike) have reported that it has gone downhill. Looking to kill two birds on Sunday, Patsy's became both the subject of a (quick) Slice review and the site of my thirtieth birthday dinner.
We don't know if it had something to do with the fact that the venerable institution is looking for a "pizzaman" (hello, EEOC!), but the first two pies to arrive at table were cause for concern among the assembled members of the Slice staff.
The plain pie (above right, foreground), which we ordered with regular mozzarella (some people believe the fresh mozzarella sogs down the light superthin crust), was only a few notches above what you'd get at a regular slice joint. Seltzerboy, E-Rock, and I exchanged worried looks as we got halfway through underdone, barely charred slices laden with too much sauce and too much cheese. The mushroom pie (above right, background) was saved only by the presence of the incredibly fresh high-quality fungi topping it.
After going through just two pies among five people (the crust is so thin that it's hard to fill up quickly), we were still hungry but waited for a sixth companion to show up before ordering more. The second round of pies consisted of a fresh-mozzarella-and-basil pizza and one with regular mozz topped with peppers and onions (sorry about the onions, LW!).
Oddly enough, something happened between the first round and the second round, with José (who was working the oven that night) making the save. The fresh mozz pie had a perfectly crisp yet airy and flexible crust—and just the right amount of telltale charring—with none of the sogginess that often comes about from the fresh cheese's moisture. Now, this was the stuff that makes Patsy's such a transcendent pizza experience. And pepper-and-onion pie was none too bad, either.
We can't explain what would make for the difference, though we have a theory. At the beginning of the evening (6:30 p.m. or so), there was only one other table of diners. But as we ate our first two pizzas, the place started to hop. By the time we ordered our second two pies, most of the other tables had been served. We think that the oven might have been allowed to cool down during the day but was then fired up during the dinner rush. Who can say?
Because Patsy's has long been one of our favorites and has rarely let us down, we'd like to think the first two pies were a fluke and that the best thing to do is order around 7:30 or 8 p.m. But maybe there's some truth to the rumors going around. What can anyone else tell us about Patsy's?
We're adding a new sidebar box, the Slice Syllabus, to the site today. This box will be home to the canon of New York–pizza literature—such that it is—and any student of the genre would do well to read from this list. Your first assignment: "New York Pizza, the Real Thing, Makes a Comeback," by New York Times food critic Eric Asimov.
In this June 10, 1998, story, Asimov hails what was then a resurgence of "classic New York pizza."
I'm not talking about the by-the-slice pies congealing in neighborhood display windows as they await reheating or the sodden boxes delivered to the door. I'm talking about classic New York pizza: pies cooked quickly in extremely hot ovens, generally coal-fired, until the thin crust achieves a gloriously charred, smoky crispness. The dough is prepared daily; the mozzarella is real, not packaged; tomatoes are the best quality, and toppings are simple and used in moderation—no pineapple or Thai chicken. The pizzas are cooked to order and never sold by the slice.
Among the pizzerias he cites as indicators: stalwarts John's on Bleecker Street and Patsy's in East Harlem, joined by newcomers—at the time of publication—Grimaldi's in Brooklyn Heights, Lombardi's on Spring Street (reopened only in 1994, despite the name's storied provenance), Nick's in Forest Hills.
Asimov speculates on the boomlet's origin:
Why the renaissance? It's driven, I think, by the same sense of renewed connoisseurship that gave rise to the microbrewery boom, for example. And as with the ponds of microbrews measured against oceans of Budweiser, it's easy to forget that the number of classic pizzerias amounts to no more than a leaf of fresh basil in a sea of canned tomato sauce....
The determination to make pizza the hard way seems to come from being born and bred into a pizza-making tradition. New York pizza did not exist before 1905, when Gennaro Lombardi, a Neapolitan immigrant, began to sell pies in his grocery store in Little Italy. Lombardi's was by most accounts the first New York pizzeria, and Mr. Lombardi, who hired and trained a series of other immigrants, became the sturdy tap root of a tree of family and acquaintances that would go on to define great New York pizza.
The story is a family tree of sorts that outlines the great New York pizza dynasties and gives insight into the relationship between various Patsy's sprinkled throughout the city. In fact, the print edition was accompanied by an illustration of New York's pizza family tree. If memory serves us right, there's one framed and hanging on the wall at the Coney Island Totonno's, which also is mentioned in the full text.
In lieu of a detailed write-up of Tontonno Pizzeria Napolitano, let us offer you this gallery of photos from a recent trip out to the venerable Coney Island pie shop. Because we enjoy the icy desolation of the boardwalk in winter, we'll be sure to make it out there again soon to give you the full low-down. Bon appetit!
One of last night's reruns of Law & Order on TNT contained a Grimaldi's reference. In the episode "Tabula Rasa," detectives Curtis (Benjamin Bratt) and Briscoe (Jerry Orbach) are investigating a suspect who claims he's never been to New York before. After obtaining his credit-card receipts, they find he has visited Grimaldi's—alone, no less.
Lieutenant Van Buren: [reading list of card charges] United Airlines, TKTS, Museum of Modern Art Bookstore, Barneys, Grimaldi's Italian Restaurant. Briscoe: Grimaldi's in Brooklyn? Van Buren: You know another one? Charge was for twelve bucks and some change. Briscoe: [with the wisecrack] You can't feed a family of four mice on that. Van Buren: So he was by himself. Curtis: Guy's never been to New York before and he manages to find the best pizza in the five boroughs? Van Buren: Right. Check it out.
The scene then cuts to Grimaldi's, where Briscoe and Curtis grill someone at the pizzeria. (It's not Patsy, that's for sure. He might be the guy who bought the place from Mr. Grimaldi, but I don't know what he looks like.)
Lombardi's gets a quick mention in the October 23–30, 2003 issue of Time Out New York. In that magazine's "It Happened Here!" sectionette, cleverly subhedded "The Life of Pie," Katherine Pushkar writes:
For many New Yorkers, "eating in" actually means take-out Chinese or a large pie. Finding the first lo mein merchant is like eating soup with chopsticks, but pinpointing the first pizza purveyor's spot is a cinch. Genarro Lombardi opened his grocery at 53½ Spring Street in 1897, and by 1905 he'd gotten a restaurant license, giving the city and the nation its first pizza parlor. At some point, the original site lost its fraction and became 53 Spring Street. After Lombardi's moved down the street to No. 32, where Genarro's descendants continue to dole out slices of heaven, it ultimately became a bar, Gatsby's, which serves up paradise of a different sort.
Nice rundown on the city's—and the country's—first pizza parlor, but really: "slices of heaven"? The Slice editorial board doesn't think Lombardi's lives up to its hype. And isn't Time Out the same magazine that pronounced Lombardi's overrated earlier this year?
Slice is part of the Foodblog Ad Network. To advertise on this site or across a network of food-related weblogs, click here.
Slice is also part of the New York City Blogad Network, which allows advertisers to target an audience of smart and savvy Gothamites. To place an ad on Slice or on the NYC Blogad Network, click here.
The Chicago Reader, the Windy City's preeminent free weekly, recently named 
The answer is still no. When phoned, a Hanley's staffer said, "Ummm, it may be the Friday after St. Patrick's Day now." The Hanley's watch will continue ... Previously: 
Slice's Coal-Oven Pizzeria Map lists all New York City–area coal-oven pizzerias that we know of. Clicking the pizza icons will bring up address, phone number, URL (if any), and a link back to all entries Slice has on the particular pizzeria. It's a handy way to visually navigate what Slice has to offer.
.
Dear Slice,
Friends of Slice 
The Post gives props to East Village coal-burner Luzzo's in a story cleverly headlined 
After 75 years in business, John’s has not aged nearly as well as Mr. Stiles (left), who still champions the crooners and composers, big-band leaders, and swingers and singers from the first half of the twentieth century—“the records every other station forgot about,” he often laments. Even more appealing than the music is the personality Mr. Stiles brings to the stage, peppering plays from his vast library of 78s and 45s with flamboyant phrasings, reminiscences, and narishkeit.
We arrived a little later than planned and got on line at Pepe's around 3:15 p.m. After a 15-minute wait, we were in. The short wait gave Seltzerboy and I a chance to talk to filmmakers Michael Dorian and Joe dos Santos (left, from left) of 
I had high hopes for our trip to the Hoboken branch of 
