Posted by Adam Kuban, January 25, 2007 at 12:09 PM
Robert Sietsema of the Village Voice hits Cronkite, the new pizzeria from Fornino owner Michael Ayoub. Sietsema notes the fact that the crowd is sparse despite the phenomenal pies:
There's nothing wrong with the pizzas, though, which come in two sizes: a 10-inch individual pie, and a 16-inch regular pie that easily feeds two. Made in a gas-fired brick oven, the crust is similar to what one finds in Central Italy: thinner than the standard American pie, with crunchy areas competing with squishier ones. Our favorite that first evening was Tartufo, the most expensive pie on the menu ($36/$51). The pizza melts three cheeses—fresh mozzarella, ricotta, and fontina—as a creamy platform for a blizzard of shaved black truffles, which look like wood ash on white snow. Very Japanese, visually speaking. The pungent odor assails the nostrils, and the truffles leave a miraculous aftertaste that persists for hours. Do I love this pizza? You bet! It would be worth it to go hungry for the day to split this gem with a friend. There is a problem devouring it first thing in the meal: Nothing else on the menu can top it.
If you don't want to get that spendy, he says, six other pizzas he and his tasting party tried were "spectacular," with the exception of the one topped with pesto, which, he says, is "like a toxic chemical spill on your pie."
Michael Ayoub (left), the pizzaiolo behind Williamsburg's Fornino, will be opening a Manhattan location on November 6.
To be called Cronkite Pizzeria & Wine Bar, it will be located at 133 Norfolk Street on the Lower East Side [map].
"The neon sign is on its way as we speak," Mr. Ayoub said by phone from the new pizzeria.
Unlike Fornino, which uses a custom-built gas-assisted wood oven, Cronkite's pizza cooker will be a custom-made gas-fired brick-lined oven from Marsal & Sons. "I wanted to do a wood oven here, but the DEP didn't want to hear any of it," Mr. Ayoub said. "I can get the temperature with gas—700 degrees on the deck—and I'll still use DOC tomatoes, make my own mozzarella, use all the same artisanal ingredients as Fornino. The difference is going to be negligible."
Posted by Adam Kuban, January 10, 2006 at 10:43 AM
In a story headlined "The unkindest slice of all," the New York Daily News reports on the reasons behind Lento's closing: declining business and what seems to be a family dispute.
[Linda] Cahill's grandfather, Eugene Lento, turned the space into a pizzeria 73 years ago after the speakeasy he ran began losing dough at the end of Prohibition.
Upon his retirement, Lento handed the business to sons-in-law Anthony Tortora and Herbert Connors, and in 1988 Cahill and three others took over.
Lento's daughter, Mary Lento, inherited the building at 7003 Third Ave. when Lento died in 2002.
"My grandfather reassured us there would be no reason to worry," Cahill said. "We didn't think there would be a problem because why would anyone want to close their father's legacy?"
The reporter contacted me for comment, which I gave. But I sound funny, even though the quotes are accurate.
We heard some scuttlebutt late last week about Lento's closing. Bay Ridge Blog offers more supporting evidence: "Went past Lento's tonight, and it was closed at 7:30 p.m. And the word Lento's was cut out of the awning. I hope that they have not closed. That would be awful."
Operating as a pizzeria since 1933, the place was a neighborhood favorite and, for some, a destination pizzeria. When I lived in Bay Ridge after first moving to New York City, Lento's was easily a once-a-week affair for me.
So here's to Lento's, R.I.P. Slice will pour some on the ground for you.
Posted by Adam Kuban, November 16, 2005 at 1:41 PM
TIME TO MAKE THE DONUTS
It is with great sadness that I add a new category of entries to Slice: Closings.
While bouncing from blog to blog last week, I came across word on A Brooklyn Life that a Dunkin' Donuts will replace Leonardo's at the corner of Court and 1st Streets. Apparently, this is old news, but since I don't make it over to E-Rock's place (he lives very close to Leonardo's) as often as I'd like these days, it sort of escaped me.
E-Rock, She-Rock (his wife), and I have spent many a summertime dinner hour there on the spacious patio. (That's E-Rock, in fact, outdoors at Leonardo's in the photo just above.) The staff was always friendly, the pizza was always good, and the outdoor seating area was always ... something else.
What a place. Rope lighting and a life-size statue of Saint Christopher. Green-painted concrete below and a never-quite-full canopy of vines overhead. The patio had the feel of what Carroll Gardens must have been like when it was still called South Brooklyn and before it became part of the hideous concatenation known as BoCoCa.* There was almost an Italian biergarten feel to it, if that's possible. A birragiardino, if you will. (How's that for a hideous concatenation?) It was like going to your aunt and uncle's '70s-era ranch house but having pizza and beer instead of overdone hamburgers and Kool-Aid.
I've never been a big fan of Kool-Aid. Or sweets in general, for that matter. And doughnuts? Eh. But I'm not rallying against Dunkin' Donuts. I've got no holier-than-thou argument against chains and gentrification. All I know is that, like a doughnut, I now have a small hole in my heart at the news of Leonardo's closing. And an empty place in my stomach.
I can't help it. After five years of living in New York City, the first two of those in Bay Ridge, I can't help but mentally utter "THE FRESHMAYKAH" after hearing, or thinking of, the name Lento's.
Lento's (THE FRESHMAYKAH!) is a Bay Ridge institution, having stood on the corner of Third Avenue and 70th Street since 1933. When I called the Ridge home, Lento's was my go-to spot for whole pies, despite the 20-block round-trip walk. (It's eat in or carry out; no delivery.)
Posted by Adam Kuban, February 23, 2005 at 1:07 PM
It's an embarrassment of riches today in terms of DeMarco's reviews. It was brought to our attention this morning by friend and Slice reader J.J.J. that the New Yorker features DeMarco's in its Tables for Two column this week. It seems you either love DeMarco's or hate it, and the New Yorker seems to love it.
And speaking of love, Slice loves that fact that we get a passing mention in the review:
Over the past few months, nervous anticipation has characterized discussions among pizza fiends about the quasi-expansion of Brooklyn’s legendary Di Fara’s into Manhattan. To begin with, there was the promise of pedigree—two of Domenico De Marco’s children are in on the new venture, although they were forbidden to import the forty-year-old business’s name. Last month, the pizza blog sliceny.com posted photographs from the two pizzerias taken the same afternoon, in order to compare the bottom-crust charring (Di Fara’s proved slightly blacker, but the bloggers admitted the test had no bearing on the crust’s crispness).
The good news is that the De Marco’s slice is nearly as good as Di Fara’s. It has the signature savory tomato sauce, like the one Domenico makes using herbs he grows in his shop windows, and each pie gets three kinds of cheese and a final drenching with olive oil before it hits the oven. But they’ve got some fundamental elements wrong. Domenico makes each pie fresh for customers, who watch as rapt as if it were sushi at Masa, pummelling a lump of dough into shape and futzing over the arrangement of mozzarella on top. At De Marco’s, the kitchen works ahead, stockpiling perfect circles of dough and reheating slices on demand. It takes its toll: the congealed cheese never tastes just right again, and the layering of flavors and textures in each bite becomes muted.
Even so, for the unobsessed, the thin-crust slices from the round pies will seem great. They are certainly a triumph compared with the rest of the pizzas. The square, thick-crust slices, a long-baked sacrament at Di Fara’s, are terrible at De Marco’s—they taste like focaccia smeared with Ragú. And, even more mysteriously, the whole pies, served in the depressing, airport-bar-like restaurant next door, aren’t half as good as the take-out slices. It’s no surprise that the Manhattan place lacks the dusty charm of Di Fara’s, where about the only addition in forty years is the vintage shortwave radio on the windowsill. De Marco’s may have the best slice in Manhattan, but it’s no substitute for the trip to Avenue J.
Posted by Adam Kuban, February 23, 2005 at 12:20 PM
Getting to this a bit late here, but on Friday, the Daily News panned DeMarco's, the new-ish Di Fara–affiliated spin-off in Manhattan at Houston and MacDougal streets. We were particularly interested in this item because a friend of ours, Youthlarge had posted on her site that she and her husbandthought it blew, and we've been getting a lot of comments on our review of DeMarco's, where the pizzeria is taking a beating. Here's what the News's Irene Sax has to say:
... Are the new guys as good?
The answer, sadly, is no, even though the new place is owned by De Marco's son and daughter, along with some of his longtime customers. But it is good, and will surely get better as they learn to work with their ovens....
The first whiff promised well. A light San Marzano tomato sauce with none of the corn syrup that ruins so many. The cheese seemed like fresh mozzarella, the meatballs were excellent, and there was a sprinkling of grated cheese over the top.
But the crust, alas, was as rigid and brittle as a cracker. This was a slice you couldn't possibly fold in half: I was lucky to cut it with a knife. And it was so thin that the center of each slice was soggy from the sauce. What a disappointment.
She does say that the square pie she tried had a rich, meaty sauce and that while the "crust lacked salt and soul," the topping "more than made up for it." Ms. Sax concludes the piece saying she'll try DeMarco's again, having said earlier that it is good—it just needs improvement.
Indeed, we at Slice need to try this pie again. We were pleased with slices we got from the take-out portion of the shop when we tried it earlier in January, but we did notice it was crisp and lacked the chewiness of a Di Fara pie. Once Seltzerboy comes off the injured list, we'll hit it up again, this time in the dining room.
Posted by Adam Kuban, January 13, 2005 at 12:15 AM
Eating For Two: Slice editor in chief Adam K. was originally going to grab a quick couple of slices at new Village pizzeria DeMarco's before heading home after work Tuesday night. But then the idea struck: Why not also visit Di Fara's, the inspiration for the Manhattan newcomer? And so we sampled plain slices from both pizzerias that night. The photos at left above are from DeMarco's; those at right are from Di Fara. Click the image below right for an enlarged view of the interior space of DeMarco's take-out operation. The photos above also
WORDS AND PHOTOGRAPHS BY ADAM K. .::. Late last year, shortly before leaving town for the holidays, we said we'd report on DeMarco's Pizzeria & Restaurant, the new Di Fara–associated pizza spot on the corner of Houston and MacDougal in Manhattan. We meant to do it in 2004, but things were hectic. We've returned from holiday and are slowly revving back to speed, so here are some observations and comparisons, from Tuesday night visits to both shops and a return visit to DeMarco's for lunch yesterday.
Di Fara Pizza is, of course, the renown Brooklyn pizzeria run by Dominick DeMarco and family. When word of this impending Houston Street pizzeria first hit the Web (we read of it initially on eGullet and Chowhound), that location's management was calling the place "Di Fara's NYC" and no one was sure who owned it or what affiliation it might have with the DeMarco family, for whom it was finally named. We're still unsure how great a role the family is playing in the operation, but one thing's certain: Dom himself remains firmly ensconced in his usual spot in Brooklyn.
DEMARCO'S PIZZERIA Location: 146 West Houston Street (corner of MacDougal) Phone: 212-253-2290, 212-253-2291 Hours: Sun.–Thurs., 11:30 a.m. to 9:30 p.m.; Fri. & Sat., opens at 11:30 a.m.; closed Mondays Payment: Cash only, for now. Cost: Plain slice, $2.50. Consult menu below for full range of prices and offerings.
Dom's been slinging slices at Di Fara for forty-plus years—all with an amazing concern for craft and high-quality ingredients. In fact, we've never seen anyone but Dom making the pizza at his shop. The big question was, How would a non-Dom-helmed Di Fara spin-off stack up to the original?
Quite well, actually.
It goes without saying that a DeMarco's slice will never be the same as a Di Fara slice. Dom's pies have been honed against forty years' hard work—seven days a week, with hardly any vacations or holidays. But the DeMarco's slices this weblog had Tuesday night for dinner and yesterday afternoon for lunch were very good approximations of the master's craft.
Present was the familiar three-cheese blend of grana padana, regular mozzarella, and fresh mozzarella (DeMarco's is using the same Grandé-brand fior di latté that Dom includes on his pies)—all evenly distributed. We witnessed the pizzaiolo dousing the pie with olive oil just before popping it into the oven, another Dom flourish. Lastly, the slices we sampled (all plain), featured a similar well-proportioned balance of crust, sauce, and cheese. Heck, even the take-out portion of the restaurant exhibits a no-frills practicality akin to Dom's shop in Midwood. (The Manhattan version is tidier, however.) Oh, and both establishments sell plain, regular slices for $2.50. We did not, however, see any of the DeMarco clan in there directing things.
The first thing you might notice about DeMarco's round pies (left) is that they're larger than Di Fara's. They're also more uniformly circular; Dom's pies exhibit an almost artisanal irregularity in their shape. Though the slices in the photos at top appear to be the same size, use the paper plates they rest on for reference. See how much bigger the DeMarco's piece is? When we visited last night, the pie on the counter had been sitting long enough that its gooey molten cheeses had congealed. (This was another difference—at Di Fara's a hot-from-the-oven pie doesn't last long.) Without the steaming-hot, oozey cheese (some would call is gloppy), it didn't quite look like a Di Fara pie. That didn't bother us, though; we still liked the looks of the slices on hand, what with their splotches of sauce clearly visible among the cheese. Our slices got the reheat, and while we waited, we watched the pizzaiolo build a pie, carefully studying a cheat sheet above the make table. Some people might scoff at this, but we took it as a good sign—the place is clearly concerned with adhering to Dom's recipes.
We first thought DeMarco's crust was thinner than Di Fara's, but just less than an hour later, at Dom's shop, we observed that the thickness was pretty similar. As seen in the comparison shots at top, Di Fara's crust displays a bit more charring, but DeMarco's had an adequate amount. Both crusts were crisp; Di Fara's crust, however, was notably chewier. DeMarco's was a smidge crisper, attributable, we think, to the reheat. For our lunch visit to DeMarco's, we were lucky enough to get slices from a pie straight out of the oven. Without the reheat, the crust had a very good, honest crispness to it—not the hard-to-gauge steroidal increase that comes with a second stint in the cooker—but it still lacked the toothsome chewiness of Di Fara's.
Moving up from the crust, the sauce at DeMarco's was good and fresh, with a slightly sweeter-than-Dom's taste. We don't know if DeMarco's gets its tomatoes from the same source as Di Fara, but it was close. It didn't seem as savory or as complex as Dom's, but it worked and we were pleased with it nonetheless.
The third component of a slice's trio of elements, the cheese, well, we've discussed that earlier. One difference here was that DeMarco's had pre-grated the grana padana and regular mozz; Dom grates those as needed, for the greatest freshness. Still, we didn't notice a difference, and it's probably not practical for DeMarco's to grate on an as-needed basis. It was also interesting that when we sampled the dinnertime slices Tuesday, the cheese, even with a reheat, didn't go all melty and soupy like Di Fara's. However, on the following day's fresh slices, such a gloppiness was in evidence. It's a trait that we think makes it difficult—and definitely messy—to eat a hot slice at either place, but it was nice to see DeMarco's match this Dom signature. (We usually follow the lead of one of our friends, impatiently waiting five or 10 minutes while the soupy mixture settles down a bit.)
OK. We've gone on quite a bit here, so we'll wrap up. DeMarco's is very good. And it's only been open a short while. We suspect it'll only get better, and we think it already beats many of the other renown pizza spots in the neighborhood.
Some tips, though: Like Patsy's in East Harlem, there are two operations on corner of Houston and MacDougal. There's the "Pizza Express" component, where you can get take-out or eat in, standing at one of two narrow bars along the walls. The Pizza Express location, sadly, offers a limited range of soft drinks. Noticeably absent was Slice's favorite, Dr Pepper. Even the upper-right quarter of Dom's refrigerator has more of a selection than the entire unit at DeMarco's. (To be fair, the delivery menu, bottom, lists a greater variety than was on display. Maybe you just have to ask.) The Pizza Express part is where you should go for slices. The fancier, part, which features a bar, is pies-only serves slices along with whole pies and other menu items, but it's table service. (And you enter that section through a door that faces MacDougal Street.)
The menu is below (click to enlarge). Click through the jump to see more photos from the night's excursions.
Pinch is hardly a slice joint. Instead, the thin-crusted pies are baked in long rectangular strips and customers order it--you guessed it--by the inch. The crust is nicely crisp-chewy, while the mild red sauce and goopy cheese are best matched with kicky topppings like pepperoni, cut in thin sticks for easier eating, and fiery fresh red chilis or hot Italian sausage.
Pizza, pickles, and idiocy pretty much sums up our Sunday evening trip to Pinch: Pizza by the Inch.
The pizza part of the evening, obviously, began at Pinch (416 Park Avenue South), which has gotten a couplewriteups recently in the local papers. First impressions were good. Nice, big clean space (it opened two weeks ago) and friendly staff. E-Rock and I received a hearty greeting at the door by one of the owners, who then escorted us to a table. Table service is the norm here; you'll have a server, which means you'll have to tip—so plan accordingly if you've only got a few bucks on you and just want a quick slice.
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In a story headlined "
It's an embarrassment of riches today in terms of DeMarco's reviews. It was brought to our attention this morning by friend and Slice reader J.J.J. that the 
Getting to this a bit late here, but on Friday, 
