Pizza Pizza
Posted: September 8th, 2008 | Filed under: Essays, Other Sports | 122 Comments »
This begins “Michael Rosenberg Week” here at the blog in honor of our pal Rosey and his terrific new book “War As They Knew It: Woody Hayes, Bo Schembechler, and America in a Time of Unrest.” It really is a terrific book, though our guy certainly could have gone with a slightly shorter title. (Whatever happened to the short titles anyway? War and Peace. Basketball for Dummies. The Bible). Anyway, the staff of thousands here at the blog recommend this book so intently that we will have an, as yet, unspecified number of posts this week to celebrate Rosey, who in his spare time is a brilliant columnist at the Detroit Free Press and FoxSports, a relatively new father and, surprisingly, one of the world’s leading experts on Mongolia. It’s amazing. Really. Email him some questions about Mongolia. He can’t talk enough about Mongolia.
First, buy the book, of course.
Our first installment deals with the classic Rosey query (and our longtime poll question): What ingredient makes a pizza great?
* * *
I cannot stand Cincinnati pizza. I have a theory about this, of course. Pizza is personal for me in a way that other foods are not. I had no problem at all embracing Skyline Chili* in Cincinnati because I had never eaten anything like it growing up, and as such I had no previous attachment to chili. I suspect that if I had grown up in Texas or if my mother had a family chili recipe passed down from generation to generation, then I might have felt different about Skyline. But I did not even like chili much (I don’t like beans), and so I was open to the Skyline experience (also there was a Skyline open late right across the street). I felt the same way about the 23-pound double-decker sandwiches that they served at Blue Ash Chili (every restaurant in Cincinnati, at heart, is a chili parlor), same with Montgomery Inn ribs, same with the various German restaurants in town, same with lots of other Cincinnati foods. Hey, I lived in Cincinnati, and a guy’s gotta eat. Even when it came to Ice Cream, which I have strong opinions about, I didn’t judge the quality of Graeter’s Ice Cream. I just ate it by the carton.
*I do realize that, for many, Skyline Chili is a line in the sand for many people. I can’t blame people for being anti-Skyline, really. It is hard to explain just how overpowering a presence Skyline Chili (and Skyline type restaurants) is in Cincinnati. I believe chili is more visible in Cincinnati than Buffalo wings are in Buffalo, bigger than clam chowdah is in Boston, more important to the locals than Philly steaks are in Philadelphia and, dare I say it, more overpowering than barbecue is in Kansas City. The whole town smells like chili. Last time I went to Cincinnati, I punched “Skyline Chili” into my car GPS system and 27 of them popped up within an eight mile radius, and that does not take into account the many Gold Star Chilis, the Empress Chili, the Dixie Chili, the Blue Ash Chili, the Camp Washington Chili, on and on and on forever. Point is, Cincinnati chili is in your face at all times, and the only two logical ways to respond to such an onslaught is either to revolt against it or capitulate to its secret powers (what is that secret ingredient? chocolate? cinnamon? heroin?). To be bluntly honest, I capitulated without much of a fight.
But I could not stand the Cincinnati pizza. Woud not touch it. The two reasons for this are clear:
1. Cincinnati pizza sucks.
2. Pizza is fundamentally different from other foods.
The first is obvious. The seconds fits my theory, which is that everybody who loves people (a.k.a. everybody) has a perfect pizza in their mind, the pizza that all others are to be compared with forever. Now, people come to this ideal pizza in different ways, at different times in their lives. For some, though, the ideal pizza is the just really good pizza they have ever eaten. That’s how it is for me. My ideal pizza is King Cole pizza in Cleveland, Ohio. Now, I say that with some hesitation because I have not eaten King Cole pizza in more than 30 years. Truth is, I suspect that if I went back to King Cole and tried a slice of pizza now*, I would be madly disappointed and would have to fall back on the old-person dream that the pizza had changed and it used to be much better, or what I like to call the “Burt Lancaster You should have seen the Atlantic Ocean back then,” defense.
*I had always thought the King Cole pizza on Mayfield closed down many years ago. But I looked on the Internet and it is still listed in phone books.
But the point, in my case, is not what King Cole pizza tasted like, no, the point is what I REMEMBER it tasting like. I remember a thin, bendable, bubbling, crust, hot cheese that stretched out like a tape measure when you pulled it away from the home base, crisp pepperonis and so on. I remember it as the kind of hot that would burn the roof or your mouth only in a good way. I remember it as the kind you had to bend in the middle to keep it from falling apart like the Yankees in Seattle.
Now, hey, I certainly like other types of pizza too, from gourmet to Totino’s in a the frozen section — I’m a staunch disciple of the joke that pizza is like sex, when it’s good it’s really good, and when it’s bad it’s still pretty good. But in the end they all fall down for me when placed up against my pizza nonpareil, my memory of King Cole pizza was I was 8 years old.
Now, hey, I realize this is an accident of geography more than anything else. I am readily admitting here that if I grew up in the greater Chicago area, Chicago deep dish pizza probably would be my ideal pizza and I would mock all other kinds.* If I grew up in New Haven, I might like that Pepe’s Pizza with like no sauce (I’ve only heard about this, and I’m not sure I like the concept). If I grew up in St. Louis … no, wait, that’s where this discussion ends I can’t imagine that I would have ever liked that Ritz crackers with tomato sauce thing they call pizza in St. Louis.
But my point is that Cleveland pizza was entirely influenced by New York, and I was entirely influenced by Cleveland pizza. That, for me, is what pizza is supposed to taste like.
*Is this true? Would I be a Chicago pizza snob if I had been raised on the deep dish? I honestly cannot say. Here’s my latest attempt to add a word to the dictionary: I call this an “Akili Question” or just an “Akili.”
Akili (Ah-KEE-lee). Noun. A question that people believe they can answer intuitively but one that, actually, has no answer. Akilis lead to endless and fun arguments. The word derives from the utterly unanswerable question: “Would quarterback Akili Smith have been a good football player had he been drafted by a team other than the stunningly clueless Cincinnati Bengals?”
Many sports questions, I believe, are really Akilis: Was Babe Ruth better than Barry Bonds? Would Tiger Woods have dominated Jack Nicklaus in Jack’s prime? What happens it you put Jim Brown or Otis Taylor or some other physical marvel from forty and fifty years ago in today’s game? Nobody really knows, but it’s fun to scream at people about it. Then there are a lot of non-sports Akilis out there too. You know what I love? I love reading those books that take a moment in history and takes a look at the alternative, like: What if Lee had not attacked at Gettysburg? What if the Germans had discovered the atom bomb first. And so on. I should do a book of sports Akilis, don’t you think?**
**Although, maybe I should finish the one I’m working on now. Hey, yeah, did I mention, that I am writing a book about the 1975 Cincinnati Reds? Comes out in March. William Morrow is publishing. A subsidiary of Harper Collins.
Anyway , it just so happens that Cincinnati pizza tastes precisely the way a pizza is NOT supposed to taste. This is my opinion entirely, but I will say that I know a lot of people from Cincinnati who do not like Cincinnati pizza.
All of this leads back to the question: What is the key factor in great pizza? Well, I think this is an Akili too. There is no answer. You could certainly argue for cheese — Rosey thinks cheese is the big ingredient — because a pizza with bad cheese cannot be rescued with sauce or a good crust or anything else. Toppings are a big factor because no matter how good the crust or the cheese may be, if the order was for toppings you don’t like — say green peppers, black olives and pineapple — then you probably won’t eat it. Sauce is huge too. It’s hard to do a really good pizza sauce, to get just the right amounts of tomato, garlic and zip while avoiding any of that Boyardee aftertaste.
Even the shape of the slice matters … little squares of pizza feel wrong and un-American* in a harsh school cafeteria way and should be outlawed across the land.
*OK, I have to ask this: Now that Sarah Palin has galvanized people, where the heck did all these “Hockey Moms” come from? Hockey moms? Really? Is this really a factor in places outside of, you know, Boston, Minneapolis and Calgary? More to the point, my question is: We have had “Soccer Moms” for a while. Now we have “Hockey Moms.” When the heck will the Moms of America start getting involved in, you know, American sports? Baseball Moms? Basketball Moms? Who’s with me?
But, in the end, when it comes to what makes pizza great, I have to go with the majority. It’s about the crust. A pizza with crust that is too doughy and chewy (I’m looking straight at you Little Caesar … it’s no wonder you gave two for the price of one), a pizza crust that is too crunchy like a St. Louis cracker, a pizza crust that is so thick that you can hardly taste the sauce, these things just don’t work for me.
I think that eating pizza is as much about memory as it is about taste. Good pizza, like a familiar summer song, can take you back years. And even now, for me, pizza with exactly the right kind of crust can take me back to those days when afternoons seemed so bright you had to squint, when there was a lump in bed because my little league mitt was breaking in under the mattress, when the sight and smell of Dad walking in with a greasy pizza box sparked the same feelings George Bailey had when his brother Harry walked in the door. Of course, I could be over-romanticizing pizza. Wouldn’t be the first time.
Loading ...
Ultimate Akili: What would have happened if Grady Little took out Pedro Martinez in ALCS Game 7 in 2003?
For me, with pizza, as with so many other foods, the pinnacle comes when the pizza in question is so good, or so vastly different, that it literally changes the way I think about the food.
To be more specific, I used to think of pizza as a greasy, junk food sort of thing, with stringy, stretching cheese, a thin, sweet sauce, slopped onto a bread-like crust. Well, bread dipped in grease.
Anyway, I was then introduced to a place in New Jersey, which has since moved to New York. The guy who runs the place is staunch in his methods. No toppings. Nothing To-Go. One size. Four kinds of pizza: with cheese and sauce; with cheese only; with sauce only; with cheese and chopped cherry tomatoes. Only one kind of cheese, imported daily from Italy. Yeastless dough. Wood burning oven. And so on.
And this pizza is so incredible that I cannot truly compare it to stuff local to me, let alone Domino’s or Papa John’s. It’s all apples and oranges. The quality of the ingredients, the standard of quality, the skill of the maker are all so much higher in this place than in almost everywhere else I’ve been, I’m not sure I can consider them the same food. It’s like comparing the MLB to Little League. It’s the same basic idea, but a wildly different product.
That said, the most important thing is the crust. Regardless of how you like it, if your crust stinks, your pizza is unsalvageable. If the cheese is lousy, you can scrape it off (tomato pie!). If the sauce bothers you, chances are sprinkling enough salt or oregano or garlic onto it will fix the issue, more or less. But if the crust is lousy, then you’ve hit bottom. Game over.
What the heck is Cincinnati Pizza? I grew up in CIncy in the 70’s (and I can’t wait for your book) and I never heard of the stuff. Skyline rules, and Graeter’s Ice Cream is the best– although I also remember getting the milk shakes at UDF (United Dairy Farmers).
Isn’t there already a word for “Akili”? Isn’t that what a counterfactual is? I think when you go to propose a new word for a particular definition, it should be a rule that there isn’t already another word that means it already.
I am amazed at the number of people who think being President isn’t a tough job. Any old schmoe who sufficiently hates gay people and abortions can do the gig.
Heck, why not take the duffel bag replacing Berroa at shortstop and name it the vice president?
I disagree on the pizza – it can be delicious on thin though my favorite is the deep dish with a crust on top, too. But you have to have sauce with substance, a good tomato sauce with herbs and chunks of tomatoes and other veggies.
Hockey moms are NOT soccer moms.
Hockey practice is early, before school. And the kids can’t walk or ride their bikes to practice, because the the ice rink is not as close as the nearest park of school. And there’s too much to carry.
Anyone with a kid can be a soccer mom. It’s just a couple hours a week for games, plus knowledge of how to make orange wedges. Not that hard at all.
But being a hockey mom? Well, it takes a kind of devotion that is…well, some might call motherhood, and others might call it crazy. But all know that it is, at its root, what America is all about.
It’s something that liberals and elites couldn’t understand, not in a million years.
********************
I grew up in the DC area, and we had hockey and hockey moms. This was over 20 years ago. With the southern expansion of the NHL, there’s probably even some around Atlanta and LA.
However, liberal that I am, I never understood the hockey players or their parents who drove them to practice at 5am.
Una Pizza Napoletana, which might be the best pizza I have had in the US–although to be fair I have never been to Pizzeria Bianco in Phoenix or PIzzeria Mozza in LA–has exactly four types of pizza: Margherita, Marinara (without cheese), Bianco (without sauce), and Filleti (fresh tomatoes instead of sauce). No other toppings. Every one of the pizzas is earth-shatteringly delicious. The only thing common to all of them is the perfect crust. As such, I feel very comfortable saying that the crust is the most important part.
This is only in general, of course. Terrific sauce and cheese can overcome a less spectacular crust to still give a terrific pizza, like you can find at Di Fara in Brooklyn.
I love the last paragraph about the sentimental power of pizza. Going back to my favorite pizza place from college, Pinochios, a place I practically lived for four years, elicits emotions I don’t feel at any other place, even though, objectively speaking, the pizza may not be quite as good.
Mom and grandmom were Sicilain, so I grew up with a Baltimore Little Italy version of pizza. Then worked in a pizza joint in college. My own recipe has evolved over many years into what I consider the perfect pizza. But I’ll still eat damn near anything that pretends to be pizza. Two favorites: Tommy’s in Columbus and The European in Boston’s North End. Fine pies. Visiting our daughter in Los Angeles, we have tried but failed to find a decent pizza. She says that’s because there isn’t any good pizza in California. I’d like to think there is. But where?
Oh, and the pizza at the ballpark in Cincinnati wasn’t bad. I will not eat Skyline chili.
Curse you, Joe P; another mesmerizing trip down memory lane when i should be doing something constructive!
For me, it was the “King of Pizza” in downtown Boston in the late 50s and early 60s. Or maybe the pizza at this little sidewalk place on Revere beach back then…. I know it’s the memory rather than the actuality, but the memory is mine!
make that **Sicilian** I can cook, but I can’t type.
As a Clevelander, I’m not sure King Cole’s Pizza exists anymore, though maybe I’ve just missed it somehow.
TC’s got it right: it’s the crust. I still remember the lecture I got from a pizza cook in Brooklyn when I was ten about the importance of New York water to pizza crust (and bagels) and how he had a friend in Philly who imported water from New York for his pizzas. Even my father, who raised the art of pizza loading (sauce and toppings were separate elements requiring hours of preparation) to a new level puts the biggest part of his efforts into his crust. With the exception of his pizza (which wins the nostalgia contest of the mind Joe’s referring to when he talks about King Cole’s), the best I’ve had is at a gourmet place in Carroll Gardens in Brooklyn.
I can’t eat pizza. Gluten intolerant. Talk about candy again.
Also, where I grew up, you either liked Pizzazz or Geraci’s.
Nowadays we tend to get Pizza Pan because, even though its rather terrible, you can get roughly 5,000 pizzas for about 10 bucks, as long as you pick it up.
To answer the Akili about being a Chicago pizza snob, the answer is unequivocally yes. As someone who was raised on Chicago deep dish, I have a decidedly different view on what makes a good pizza from pretty much everyone else I know who is not from Chicago.
As I see it, there are two styles of pizza. One is genuine, authentic Chicago deep dish, and the other is everything else. If I were to judge all pizzas I’ve ever eaten on a 1-100 scale with 100 being the best, the highest score a non-Chicago pizza could possibly reach would be a 75. There are absolutely no exceptions. Only Chicago deep dish can achieve a score higher than 75.
Trying to figure out which pizza element is most important is futile. The correct answer is that sauce, toppings, cheese, and crust must all be weighed equally to make good pizza. If any of the 4 elements are not properly taken care of, the pizza will not be that good.
As a Minnesotan, I’ve wondered about the hockey mom thing too. It went over great here, and I imagine it went over okay in Maine as well. The problem is, I can’t think of a hockey hotbed in the lower 48 that the republicans have a chance at winning anyway. They ain’t winning in Massachusetts, Minnesota or Maine. I guess they’ll win in North Dakota.
Can anyone think of staunchly republican hockey state?
I also spent a few years living in Chicago. Like the person above said. It’s apples and oranges. The pizza was absolutely amazing, but it’s so different that it doesn’t take away from my appreciation of normal pizza places. My main gripe is when pizza gets too greasy. I don’t like it when there are pools of oil on top of the cheese. When I go somewhere and see that, I know I won’t be coming back.
I love so many different kinds of pizza from so many different places that it would be hard to pick. But I like a nice brick-oven margherita pie ala Totonno’s in Brooklyn. A neopolitan pie is always nice, but none have really stood out for me to pick a favorite.
And square slices are only ok if it is a Grandma’s pie. Thin crust, shredded mozz, crushed tomatoes, garlic and olive oil. Very nice!
By the by, some here in NY say the most important ingredient in a pizza is the water. They claim that NYC water makes NYC pizza the best. I dunno about that, but some feel that way.
@ Curtis -
you’re right, of course. ‘Politician’ at any level should be the very worst job ever imagined – hundreds, thousands, millions of bosses all with different agendas and ideas of ‘good work’.
And yet many will spend tens of millions of dollars to attain a position in politics – specifically referring to President of the United States with this.
What does that tell you? Personally, I think anyone who *seeks out* political office probably cannot be trusted.
Oh, and locally – Avelluto on Johnson Dr. does a pretty good job; but I’ve got two kids and a wife from Michigan – the Pizza Hut on the next block usually wins. Dammit.
Seattle Matt has it right. It isn’t one element over the other, its the combination of all the elements that contributes to the goodness of a pizza. Its like nature vs. nurture. It is the question that is the problem. Think of it like a blizzard. Can you have a blizzard without snow? or without wind? which is more important? The question is silly because it presupposes there is one preeminent element. Pizza is the same way, you have to have everything to make it good.
As a native Cincinnatian, I have to agree with Hambone . I’m not sure that “Cincinnati Pizza” exists as a separate, identifiable cuisine. If you mean LaRosa’s pizza, for which many Cincinnatians inexplicably share a deep affinity, then I agree with you. LaRosa’s is horrendous. If you mean simply that you can’t find any good pizza in Cincinnati, I also generally agree with your assessment, although I think things have improved slightly since you left. Dewey’s, for instance, makes an edible product. Not great, but serviceable if you don’t feel like driving to Cleveland or Chicago for a pizza.
As for what makes a pizza great, I voted with the majority: it’s the crust. But actually I don’t think crust has as much to do with the recipe as it does with the oven or cooking method. Most ovens don’t get hot enough to properly cook a pizza. This is why you can’t make good pizza at home, though I know people who’ve tried to coax 800 or so degrees out of the self-cleaning cycle on their stove. And really good pizza ovens are sometimes just fortuitous accidents, like symphony halls with great acoustics. This is where I think Cincinnati falls down, why all Cincy pizza crusts taste mealy.
On an unrelated note — and I think I speak for all Cincinnatians on this — you’re killing us with the teasers about the ‘75 Reds book. March? Are you kidding me? Can’t you expedite this thing? Did you actually see any of the Bengals/Ravens game? Good lord. We need something to look forward to.
I ate a lot of Angelo’s at Cedar and Lee (I’m Heights ‘84), which had the additional advantage of a Missile Command machine. All pizza is compared to Angelo’s, and most fails, although Dave’s Pizza in Bemidji, MN is darn good… and owned by the captain of the US Olympic Curling Team.
My personal King Cole pizza was Noble Romans in Ft. Wayne, Indiana. Seriously.
Now you might be asking, “How on Earth can anyone’s favorite pizza be from Ft. Wayne? The only good things from Ft. Wayne, in the history of good things, are 1) Steeler legend Rod Woodson, and 2) the Frank Burns character from M*A*S*H.” And you’d be 100% correct. In fact, I don’t think that Noble Romans is even FROM Ft. Wayne, per se. It’s a chain and it’s not even specific to Indiana, as far as I can tell. If I had a slice today, it would probably taste like Chuck E Cheese.
Still, like Joe, it’s the memory of having it that makes it so perfect. There were five kids, one income and a Carter in the White House when I lived in Ft. Wayne, so we didn’t eat out much. When we did, Noble Romans was the closest place, so we hit it pretty often. The kids loved it because you could watch them make the pizza – a wild concept in 1978 – the slices were enormous (to us), and they showed cartoons and old Little Rascals episodes on one wall. My parents loved it because it was inexpensive and us kids stayed out of their hair, fully enraptured by Spanky, Alfalfa and Buckwheat. (Joe – Best all-time Little Rascal has got to be a poll one of these days.)
Now I’m a bit more discerning, and I admit to being a bit of a pizza snob. Locally, I swear by pizza from D’Bronx near KU Med Center or from Stonewall Pizza in Lenexa. But no matter how good they are, I still mythologize the Noble Romans slices of my youth.
(Sigh.)
Montgomery Inn BBQ sauce alone makes up for Cincy’s pizza deficiency. Dang, that might be my favorite food (and I’m talking about a sauce!!!).
The Garlic Chips at Pizzeria Classico over at Folsom lake are amazing.
It seems to me that it is probably possible to find a good pizza anywhere, but in some places you have to look a lot harder than in other places. I live near New Haven, and there are at least five places that are equivalent to Pepe’s. I’ve had very good pizza in Boston, Providence, New York, and Northern Jersey. I’m not so provincial as to say you cannot find good pizza outside the northeast, but good pizza seems more common here than in other parts of the country. I don’t know this for a fact, but I would guess that a greater percentage of the population in the northeast is of Italian descent than in the rest of this country, and I wonder if that doesn’t have something to do with it.
My favorite pizza is Papa’s Pizza in Milford, CT.
“…a pizza crust that is so thick that you can hardly taste the sauce…” Joe, you make my argument for me. If a crust is bad because it obscures the taste of the sauce…doesn’t that logically make the sauce more important?
Ah, the cracker pizza. I don’t know that there is anything better for me than a deluxe from Imo’s, as long as they get it right. Toppings completely covering the pizza from edge to edge, so thick that you have to cradle the small squares in your hand. Damn, i’m ordering Imo’s tonight.
I lived in St. Louis for 10 years and I do not know how a city that has one of the best Italian neighborhoods for eating Italian food other than pizza (The Hill) can then pride themselves for that absolute cr!! that is St. Louis style pizza.
For those of you who travel to St. Louis, please go to a nice upscale Italian restaurant on The Hill and skip the pizza from Imo’s next time you are there. You won’t be disappointed.
I’m odd in that my perfect pizza is one of either two extremes: the crazy-thin St. Louis style, or Chicago deep dish. I have very good reasons for this though. My mom and her entire side of the family is from St. Louis, so I grew up eating lots of that sort of pizza and hearing that it was the greatest and just sorta got used to it. However, I also grew up in Des Moines, and the very best pizza place in Des Moines (and the one that my family frequented most often) was the outstanding Felix and Oscars, which serves Chicago-style pizza. So really, either of those works for me, and anything in between is a sad disappointment.
“I had always thought the King Cole pizza on Mayfield closed down many years ago. But I looked on the Internet and it is still listed in phone books. ”
Joe, do not let this fool you. It is still possible to retrieve a phone listing for the Godfather’s Pizza in Fairfax, Virginia.
I’ve lived in NoVa for over 12 years; that Godfather’s closed before I ever got here.
(And, yes, Godfather’s is my King Cole. I don’t know if it’s still there, but we had one right across Metcalf from SMNorth, and we hit that place pretty near daily.)
…”(And, yes, Godfather’s is my King Cole. I don’t know if it’s still there, but we had one right across Metcalf from SMNorth, and we hit that place pretty near daily.)”
Yup, still there, right next to the Sherwin Williams store on Johnson Drive.
Fasolamatt:
When I was growing up I used to go to a pizza place on….well, I’m 90% sure it was on Cedar, in one of the tiny strip malls. The pizza was grease city, but I loved it as a kid, and three or four of the tables actually had arcade machines built into them; they had DigDug and Ms. Pacman IIRC.
I can’t for the life of me remember what that place was called, though…
I too have the same passion for pizza that you have. If your traveling through columbia missouri you should check out shakespears pizza downtown. It’s tops on my list.
In the 60’s and 70’s, I found the best pizza of my life at “The Mug” on Highland Avenue in San Bernardino.
arggh! I meant to say especially how great the soft garlic sourdough crust was.
Chicago deep dish casserole is tasty stuff, just don’t mistake it for pizza.
I don’t like any pizza! But I sure enjoyed reading this.
I agree many of the earlier posters — Chicago deep Dish is tasty, but it’s not Pizza, and need sot basically be a whole different category. Frankly, it has as much in common with Lasgna as it does with Pizza.
Joe (or anyone else here), next time you’re in Vegas, get in the car and venture to henderson to go to Settebello (www.settebello.net) for an authentic, Neapolitan style Pizza, one of few certified in the US. I grew up in NY, and good pizza places are heard, but not impossible to find in the West, but Settebello is just outrageous — and they keep the wood burning oven so hot that it takes about 90 seconds to cook — so they make the pizza to order and you still don’t wait for long….
“But I did not even like chili much (I don’t like beans),”
Why the non sequitur?
@JEFFSOL:
“Certified” Neapolitan? Hmmm…sounds fake to me. I’ve eaten pizza in Naples (IT not FL), from street vendors and in restaurants. What distinguishes a Neapolitan-style pizza from other pizzas?
Here’s an Akili…
How would this post have been written if Joe had never heard of his drinking game?
I don’t really understand how you can place thin crust and deep dish pizza on the same pizza-continuum. They’re both awesome, IMO, but they’re entirely different foods. Saying “my favorite kind of pizza is deep dish” is like saying “my favorite kind of lobster is crab.”
One thing I will say is that it seems exceptionally difficult to find good deep dish outside Chicago – before I ate it in Chicago, I thought deep dish was crap.
My ideal pizza – thin-crust – is Grimaldi’s in Brooklyn. Totonno’s and DiFara (also in Brooklyn) are right behind it.
Who else but Joe could throw together a few lines and generate so many responses- about PIZZA? Now, that’s what I call leadership.
Poz for President!
Ken’s Pizza, Hutchinson, KS. Deep dish. Can’t beat it.
I have to say that Chicago style pizza is indeed very much pizza. And I am a professed snob when it comes to Chicago pizza. Give me a stuffed pizza from Giordano’s any day of the week. I just moved to New Hampshire — trying to find anything remotely as good as that here. I also need some serious Italian beef sandwiches, like from Johnny’s made with Vienna beef. Even Charlotte got an authentic Chicago dog place several years ago. Killed me to leave Matt’s Chicago Dog behind, although I heard they switched from Coke to Pepsi. Don’t get me started on that …
For ANDY:
My wife is also gluten-intolerant and so pizza is almost always off the list…unless we’re traveling and then a Google search can find the gluten-free crust in the strangest places.
We had a delicious gluten-free pizza in Bloomington, Indiana at Lennie’s. We found several places in Chicago that we didn’t get to, including one with a sausage crust.
Keep pizza hope alive.
My favorite is Arnie’s/Pizza King from the Lafayette, IN area. Pizza King was first, I think, and is more generally available in Indiana, but Arnie’s is a Lafayette institution. My mom grew up in Lafayette and both my parents went to Purdue, so we were built up to love it. Now I get at least twice when I go there. It has that little square slice thing going, which I know you disapprove of, but man is it good. It’s got tons of diced toppings piled high high high. Mmm mm.
That said, I now live in Brooklyn and, yeah, people know how to make pizza around here.
Never been a fan of the Chicago stuff. Too thick.
Best pizza in the world is Shakespeare’s in Columbia, MO. No doubt about it. The pepperoni slices are thick, the cheese is piled on, and the sauce is excellent. It doesn’t get any better.
But wait, it does. They also give you big durable plastic cups for your sodas which you can take with you. I lived there for a year, and I left with over 20 cups. I have only lost 2 so far to the dishwasher melting them.
I grew up in Amherst, MA. Amherst is mostly notable for being in the middle of five colleges – UMass, Amherst College, Mt. Holyoke College, Hampshire College, and Smith College. You cannot, as a town, have that many college students in the area and not have a great college pizza joint. Antonio’s is that joint.
It has always been the perfect pizza for me. Although I now live in Los Angeles, every time I am back visiting my parents, Antonio’s is my first stop for food. There is no other pizza like it. And it’s cheap, too – two big slices is generally enough for a meal, and since I get cheese pizza (with pizza that good I have no need for other toppings), I can eat an excellent meal for less than five dollars.
I am terrible at describing food, especially in comparison to you, Joe, so I’ll just illustrate the quality of Antonio’s with one of my favorite anecdotes.
McDonald’s, no doubt figuring it was sitting on a goldmine, once opened up a new location in the middle of Amherst. Unfortunately, they chose to put it right next door to Antonio’s. College students may be poor, but between the fact that Antonio’s is pretty cheap and the truly vast disparity in quality between the two places, I never – once – saw more than four people in that McDonald’s. And the time I saw four people, the line at Antonio’s was out the door and down the street.
The McDonald’s was gone within six months.
If any of you are ever in Amherst for any reason, go to Antonio’s. It will make your whole trip worth it.
Dustin Pedroia!
Sally’s Pizza in New Haven does not offer white pies exclusively. In fact, most of the waiters will encourage you — especially if it’s your first time — to get both a white pie and a red pie. And I think you get a better taste of what makes classic New Haven pizza so great when you eat at Sally’s instead of Pepe’s, especially now that Pepe’s is starting the process of franchising itself across Connecticut.
Next time you’re covering the Yankees, take Metro-North up to New Haven and try one of the pizza places there. It’ll be worth the 90 minutes + $12 train fare.
Armands meat pizza from the pizza buffet. From 18-24 years ago.
A deep dish, with sausage, pepperoni and ground beef. Lots of cheese. But not too melted, so you can bite through it, or it stretches out a bit.
Mmmmmmm….I miss it so!
My favorite pizza is the stuffed slice at Sbarro. I’ll make up things I need to buy at the mall in order to hit the food court.
To Rick Bender— not sure what part of New Hampshire you’re in, but there’s great pizza at Savario’s in downtown Portsmouth, NH, which is on the seacoast. The family that owns it moved to the area when I was a kid, and I went to school with their four children. MMmmmm.
Shakespeare’s in Columbia. Double pepperoni, pepper cheese on whole wheat crust. Delish. And plenty of WD-40 on hand.
Micah – went to Amherst and Antonio’s was one of the great diversions for me and my friends to wander off campus and cop a couple of those big ole slices. Good call.
Frank S. – My girlfriend and I tried out Sally’s in New Haven. We’ve never been so angry and bothered by TERRIBLE service. It was genuinely insulting – i thought i was gonna have a heart attack my blood pressure was so high. I know that’s supposed to be their “thing,” but no thanks for us. It was a tuesday night w/ tons of open tables and the lazy, arrogant waiter was trying to make people go back outside and wait till he called them – even though there was so much open space. Half the time he would forget they were out there. I can’t believe people put up with it. The (only) waiter was this dorky washed-up wanna be biker sort (we consoled ourselves by mocking him as “the Tough Guy of Wooster Street) who literally ignored and scoffed at the parties at various tables and their requests for service. We were incensed and wanted our check early – but of course the service was so bad he forgot to get it for us, then got us the wrong one after 15 more mins. I will never ever go to that dump again.
I’m with Chris, I never knew there was ‘Cincinnati pizza’ (I grew up about an hour away from Cincy). I really don’t remember a predominant style of pizza in the area so you must be referring to LaRosa’s. It is quite horrible and is quite popular for some reason. If I remember right, there are plenty of one off type pizza joints around Cincy that are just fine. Don’t remember if it was necessarily a Cincy thing, but Donato’s pizza wasn’t bad for a chain restaurant.
Joe, it’s clear you love pizza, so I have to ask: what’s up with the derogatory comments about St. Louis-style pizza? Much like picking your favorite player from the sport’s team you love, your favorite style of pizza is all about personal taste and so there really is no right or wrong answer. And to all those self-professed “pizza snobs” out there who poo-poo thin crust pizza, I’ll say this for you – at least you’re right about the “snob” part.
To Jim Haas:
I thought that was funny too, but the Pizza, which a co-worker recommended, is anything but funny — it is phenomenal. Apparently there are a group which wants to maintain the original Neapolitan tradition and formed some sort of organization — they say that the things that make it different are the oven — made of brick, imported from Italy and heated to 800-950 degrees Fahrenheit; the tomatoes — imported from Italy, less acidic and never made into a dark heavy sauce; the flour — imported from a special Italian mill; and the cheese — on those pizzas with mozzarella, only fresh, buffalo mozzarella. Forget the certification, the pizza is awesome…
Rick Bender, where in New Hampshire? Near Hanover, where Dartmouth is, great pizza may be an impossible find. I went to college there and can tell you where to get a great calzone, the greatest chicken sandwich on earth and many other things, but we never found great pizza — C&A in Hanover is OK. Over in the Lakes region, Pizza Barn in West Ossipee is wonderful — a little thick and a bit greasy, but a unique blend of cheeses, good sauce and great fresh toppings (the pepperoni is different from anywhere I’ve ever had) make it a pie worth eating…
I first came across pizza in the suburb of Moonee Ponds in Melbourne, Australia, a city with a large Italian population, in 1969. The place was straight out of Central Casting — red and white chequer tablecloths, Alitalia posters, and overstaffed with people who were all obviously related to each other. It was also only the second restaurant, after the Lasso steak house in Wellington, New Zealand (best steaks anywhere, ever), I’d been in where the cooking department was in full view of the public.
Presiding over the Moonee Ponds place was Papa, the chef — big smile, curly black moustache, again from Central Casting. His modus operandi — and I guess the reason for the open plan layout — was to seize a ball of dough, pound it into a relatively flat shape, then toss it spinning into the air, where it would spread and reach the apex of its flight about a foot below the ceiling before descending to be caught on Papa’s raised fist as it enveloped his upper arm. Each pizza got this treatment at least three times.
Those pizzas were magnificent. And the crusts were something else, as you’d expect after the aerial work. My opinion was formed on the first bite of my first pizza . . . and I’ve had no reason to change since.
Agree wholeheartedly with all of the Shakespeare’s fans. It is the quintessential pizza experience.
I am, however, inclined to say that no one has yet described topping perfection. That honor remains for pepperoni and jalapeno. Legit, and that’s that.
Joe, just wanted to thank you for your phenomenal blog. I’ve been reading your columns since I was a kid growing up in Lee’s Summit. Now that I’m at Mizzou, your articles are basically the only bits of KC news that I feel the need to check (with the exception of box scores, of course). Congrats on SI, and best of luck on the national stage.
Beepers across the street from Mackey Arena at Purdue University. It shut its doors forever during Christmas Break of the ‘96-’97 school year. Not only did it have incredible pizza, but their breadsticks were perfect. Absolutely, 100%, no-doubt-about-it perfect.
They didn’t deliver, though, while Mad Mushroom pizza, located literally right next door, did deliver and had the very popular cheesebread item on its menu. Lousy cheesebread. Cheesebread is not a substitute for breadsticks. Never has and never will be.
So since college students are generally lazy, the place that delivered eventually won out and eventually relocated into Beepers old, bigger venue with the kick-ass loft and Tappers video game. The fucking nerve. Damn you, Mad Mushroom!
I’ve lived in St. Louis for a few years now, and I have to agree that St. Louis style pizza isn’t all that great. I tried to give it a chance, and for a while I was ok with it. I guess I had an epiphany after a couple of months and decided I wasn’t really on board. Several of my friends that visit from out of town love it though. They want it ordered every time they visit, and it makes me cringe a bit but I’m a get along type.
A pizza I really like is a southern chain named Mellow Mushroom. Lived in Auburn, Alabama for a few years and that became a regular staple for me. I voted sauce as the most important, but when I think about Mellow Mushroom what stands out to me is the crust. Maybe I voted wrong. It was crisp on the edges, but had some substance to it (not this cracker thin nonsense).
For what it’s worth, Joe, most people will sing the praises of Pepe’s white clam pizza (which might be the no sauce one you’re referring to), but to be honest, I love their plain old cheese pizza, sauce and all. I live a half hour away from New Haven but we go at least a few times a year, preferably at least once a month, and order an entire pizzato go as well. Love it. It’s no one thing, just the overall package.
Of course had I not grown up in CT, I’m certain something else would be my favorite. A lot of it is location and fond memories, I suspect.
I have to add, Frank and wt, that I still haven’t tried Sally’s. If I was on Wooster Street more often I suppose I would, but somehow everytime I do make my way over there, I feel like I can’t pass up Pepe’s.
Michigan — a state in play & plenty of hockey.
Too many words on pizza for me. Too many more on chili.
Arni’s in Market Square (the original one) was the place we went after bowling for bowling&pizza birthday parties, in the mid-late 1960’s. (the web page says it opened in 1965.) In 1966 my parents sold their house to Arnie & family; but then we moved back to WLaf in 1967.
When I was a kid on the West Side, Bruno’s was the place.
[i]“(what is that secret ingredient? chocolate? cinnamon? heroine?)”[/i]
Heroine?? With an ‘e’ at the end?
That’s not pizza, my friend, that’s cannibalism.
There are only two places in the entire U.S. to get a real pizza pie and they’re both in NYC. Lombardi’s in Little Italy and Totonno’s in Brooklyn. Eat up & shut up. Case closed, class dismissed.
I’m a Chicagoan, and I’m one of many that feels that deep-dish pizza is an abomination. The ratio of crust to sauce to cheese is just ridiculous. This is a great town, but that’s just embarrassing.
Hey Pete – I’ve been to NYC. There’s no “Little Italy” there any more. It’s all Chinatown now. Sorry for your loss.
Cole pizza in Cleveland was good but not as good as Castellanos in Little Italy of Cleveland. Of course they are long gone but those were the pizza days.
I’d like to share the opinions of the Big Guy on the crust v toppings v cheese &c debate, especially as Joe referenced His book in the opening paragraph: “Therefore everyone who hears these words of mine and puts them into practice is like a wise man who built his house on the rock.” (Matt 7:24)
Now, I’m not saying that the quoted passage is definitely a metaphorical endorsement by the Almighty of the crust as the most important ingredient in a pizza . . . just that it could be, you know. And what about both the Church and pizza having their spiritual home in Italy? It’s too neat a connection to be a mere coincidence, is what I’m saying.
On another topic, chilli has received a few mentions here. It’s not something I’m fond of but this evening my daughter brought home some dark chocolate sprinkled with “freshly ground chilli”. It’s very big in South America, she tells me, and I have to say it’s a wonderful use for what I’d previously considered an annoying weed.
@Damon Rutherford
Mad Mushroom may have decent cheesebread, but you’re right it’s no replacement for breadsticks.
And their pizza sucks.
Rural Illinois-ian, like Chicago pizza, love New York pizza more. Can’t get it around here, I’m afraid. Where I work, the pizza is the Imo’s cracker crust abomination type for the most part. Tell them gaptooth Cardinal fans to get their damn dry-ass pizza away from my face.
Oh, and Akili Smith would have been a bust, anywhere, anytime. Maybe change the noun to “Ki-jana”. What if he hadn’t tore up his knee?
Akili: What if Bartman had been getting a slice of pizza during the eighth inning in 2003? (Said as Cub fan who does not blame Mr. Bartman in any way, shape, or form, but would still like to have seen how it played out without that being the quintessential moment and having to brace to watch it replayed 458,203 times in the next month or so if and when the Cubs manage to wrap this division up.)
Best pizza for me: Mabe’s in Decorah, Iowa. No question. And it comes in little squares but even if it makes me a terrorist for eating un-American pizza, so be it. It’s the best.
I voted sauce for most important ingredient, but as someone else has posted, it’s the mix of ingredients. Any one terrible ingredient (LaRosa’s sauce, cheap cheese, scant toppings) can sink an otherwise-good pizza.
Andy – great shout out on Lennie’s in Bloomington, IN. All excellent ingredients making a great pie.
If you ever make it to Detroit (I know, why would you go there? but hey…) Pizza Papali’s in Greektown makes an absolutely wonderful deep dish pizza – fresh tomato sauce with wonderfully-blended spices on top of a perfect, not too thick, not too thin crust. If you’ve had their Detroit airport version, it’s not close to the same, give the real thing a try.
Favorite KC pizza is Funhouse, which is an opposite Pixiefood for me–I hated it when I was a kid but I love it now. All-time favorite pizza though is Pagliai’s in Maryville, but I haven’t had any in at least 10 years so I’m probably over-romanticizing it too.
Hey! I like Chef Boyardee Pizza Sauce!
Pizza Pizza…
Bookmarked your post over at Blog Bookmarker.com!…
The other thing about hockey moms, besides being in only a few geographic areas is that they tend to be fairly upper middle class. It makes sense, as the equipment necessary (skates, pads, uniforms) plus the fee to play is quite high, generally over $1000, much more to play than soccer. To echo what the guy wrote, they are also devoted, as they do have to practice at odd hours.
They are much more homogeneous than soccer moms, generally more conservative.
Funny, I just wrote about an Akili last night on my blog without even knowing it: What if Tom Brady was drafted by the Bears, a franchise that is cancer to Quarterbacks?
http://chicagosportsblogs.com/mikej/archive/2008/09/08/thoughts-on-brady-and-more-on-bears-indy.aspx
We’ll never know.
As for pizza, as a Chicagoan, I feel that our deep-dish gets a little too much play outside Chicago. Sure, we all love it and its awesome, but I bet Chicagoans consume thin crust at least 60-70% of the time. We have some fine thin crust here, except we cut it into squares instead of wedges. Why do we eat more thin crust with the tasty stuffed pizza readily available? Because the deep dish sits in your stomache like a brick, and sometimes we don’t want the instant coma.
Anyways, my two cents.
Joe-
I suggest a “pizza crawl” next time you’re in Chicago. We’ll take you around to hit all the spots. All in favor?
Shakespeare’s Pizza, downtown Columbia, Mo.
End of discussion.
I’m from the ‘Nati also and there is no such thing as Cincinnati pizza. LaRosas is tasty, though.
I’m really liking the new-ish Pizza BOGO place here in Cleveland Heights. But where DO specialty/gourmet pizzas fit in this discussion? I don’t know if lo-mein noodles can be an acceptable topping…
Listrani’s is the best in DC.
Fran — Bruno’s is good too. Very different from Arni’s.
I’m also a fan of Ledo’s (originally of College Park, MD, now spread throughout Maryland). They use provolone instead of mozarella. It’s another small-square joint, so I guess it fails that criterion just as Arni’s does.
Jeffsol & Jim Haas: The twin cities has a small chain of restaurants called Punch Pizza (the original Punch is in St. Paul) that is also certified, “vera neapolitana pizza.” In Italy there are quite a few different organizations that dictate how certain food products have to be produced. The Neapolitan pizza people are called the pizza police. And yes, one of the key requirements is the crust has to be hand tossed and cooked at over 800 degrees in a wood fired oven. They also use only San Marzano tomatoes, not sauce. And it is the best pizza I have ever had*. This is the reason sauce cannot be the key to good pizza.
*I went to college on Shakespeare’s pizza. While it is pretty good american style pizza, there is no comparison to good Neapolitan style pizza.
As a native Kansas Citian now living in Chicago — Chicago style deep dish pizza is not good. It’s basically pizza casserole, a huge mess of waaay too much cheese, which becomes a big slop of chewy, stringy crap on your plate And, at most places, it’s either that, or crunchy, cracker-crust pizza that’s about 2 mm thick.
I’ve turned to the floppy, foldable, Italian style pizza places to make up for the lack of good pizza here. Where is the “pan” pizzas, the in-between thickness that has a reasonable cheese/toppings/crust ratio?
My all-time favorites are probably the Fun House’s combination pizza, and Minsky’s deep pan-baked. People here don’t believe it, but Chicago pizza just doesn’t rate..
Grew up in Buffalo, live in Cincinnati. Your belief that chili is bigger in Cincinnati than wings are in Buffalo is essentially correct, but not for the reason you might think. Wings are big in Buffalo, but it’s also true that pizza in Buffalo just flat out rocks. There are very few wings-only restaurants there. Every family-owned pizzeria in Buffalo installed deep fryers in the ’70s and started making wings as well. Now you get a combo — a pizza and a double order of wings. That’s helped keep out Domino’s, Papa John’s and every other national chain, because they don’t have deep fryers. That, and the fact that their pizza sucks compared to what you can get in the mom-and-pop pizzerias in Buffalo. Next time in Buffalo, stop anyone on the street and ask them what’s their favorite, then go get one. You won’t be disappointed.
Kelly
Your right about Mabe’s best pizza around. It has been at least 10 years since I have eaten at Mabe’s. Every time I go to a new Pizza Joint I hope it reminds me of there pizza. Still looking.
You clearly never made it to Dewey’s pizza in Cincinnati, which is some of the best pizza in the charted universe.
“Best pizza in the world is Shakespeare’s in Columbia, MO.”
Quintessential college pizza joint. I am a Mizzou alum and was recently back on campus for the first time in over ten years. Got to town and drove straight to Shake’s. All their pies are good but the pepperoni is something special. Best pepperoni I have ever had.
Also, now that I’m a New Yorker the price of beer at Shakespeare’s had me crying for joy.
Shake’s is a great place, but my all-time favorite pizza – today, tomorrow, and forever – is Grimaldi’s on Old Fulton St., Brooklyn USA.
I voted cheese. Shortly thereafter I had a pizza with a pretty poor crust and I immediately regretted my decision. A nice, slightly burnt crust makes all the difference.
VH1’s own Allison Becker says “If you’re still in Cincy you should go to this restaurant Indigo and get an “Idaho”. It’s like a baked potato pizza. It’ll change your life.”
http://alisonbecker.blogspot.com/2008/09/happy-alison-becker-day.html
Vanessa, thanks for the details. I knew about the tomatos and oven. At the end of the day, Pizza Police or not, what I know is that it’s spectacularly tasty, and because it’s thin and not overloaded with stuff, doesn’t sit at the bottom of your stomach as much either. I’ll keep in mind next time I’m in the Twin Cities, which may be a while…
some of my favorates…
Patsy’s – Harlem
Grimaldi’s – Brooklyn
Tottonnos – Coney Island
Pepe’s – New Haven
Lombardi’s – downtown NYC
Spumoni Gardens – Gravesend, Brooklyn
Di’Fara’s…overrated
While I am a Chicagoan and am mostly a snob for that kind of pizza. Mineo’s pizza in Pittsburgh is great. Just brilliant, whenever I go to Pittsburgh I get some.
Even my New Yorker dad says it’s the best pizza he has ever had. Best thin crust pizza, no doubt in my mom.
Mineo’s! Great place. My childhood favorite. When the Steelers played in Super Bowl XL I had Mineo’s pies shipped up to Detroit to last the whole weekend.
Many good pizza places will now ship frozen pizzas. For a really big game it’s a great call. Well worth the money. If Mizzou plays in the BCS title game this year I will be getting Shake’s pies shipped, no doubt.
Adriatico’s in Cincinnati made some excellent pizza: sausage and fresh tomato slices, mmm.
WTSherman,
I’m friends with the guy you just described, Q. Obviously, he’s always treated us very well when we go there, and I usually see him engage in friendly banter with people once they’re seated and ready to order their pies. After that — it’s sort of a minimalist service. Eat your pizza, enjoy your pizza, don’t be bothered.
Usually it works out. I’ve only seen him rude to one set of customers, who insisted on coming in and sitting down despite the table they started sitting at not being cleared or cleaned from its previous denizens. Maybe that’s what happened? I don’t know. “World famous” places like that know customers will come no matter how shitty the service and tend to get chippy like that. You see it at the cheesesteak places in Philly all the time.
re:Chris and Mitch.
Larosa’s holds its place as Cincinnati’s pizza less for its taste, which I’ll admit is borderline, but for continuing the tradition of family style, locally owned, “sit down” pizza restaurants. Larosa’s is a comfort food joint, full of local color. They don’t need great pizza.
re:max
As far as I know Adriatico’s is still slinging pies to stoned college students.
I’m lucky enough to live in Northside and we’ve got a pretty nice lil Pizza shop called Portofionos.
I used to agree with the classic line about sex and pizza, but that all collapsed when I had some terrible pizza in Prague.,. But the best pizza I have ever had was in Portland Oregon… A place called Round Table, FANTASTIC!
Most pizza falls under the Pixiefood category.
Michael has a WEB SITE for his book:
http://www.michael-rosenberg.com
Jay’s not romanticizing. Pagliai’s in Maryville, MO rates with the best. I also agree with Craig that bad pizza can actually be bad. Have some pizza in London and you’ll understand the Brits’ culinary reputation.
Once again, I love the commenters here. This is the ‘love’ part of the love-hate relationship I maintain with the universe. You kids are great, even when you like bad pizza or do not intuitively understand that for any bread-based product, from pizza to sandwich and everything in between, the bread (here, ‘crust’) is the key ingredient. Ever and always.
Full disclosure: when I was young, probably six or eight or younger, my grandfather, who lived in the sticks in a small country in central Europe, took me for a walk along the wheat fields near his house. It was late summer, so the wheat was pretty ripe. He showed me how to break an ear into your hand, blow off the husks, and eat the kernels. The flavor, for those of you who have not tried this, was very nice.
On pizza, I grew up in California, so I don’t really get it. I do admit that the one time I went to Grimaldi’s, I tried mightily to bogart twice my share. I’d have succeeded, but my wife noticed. We have Zachary’s in B-Town, but that’s really tomato soup with cheese in a bread bowl. Very nice tomato soup, but not really pizza. There are a couple good wood-oven places in the city, though. But we don’t fetishize them.
I’m from Chicago, and nobody I know here eats deep dish except tourists, true story. Real Chicago pizza is Chicago thin crust, i.e. a nice, sturdy crust and ingredients buried underneath a good 1/2″ of cheese.
I liked Shakespeare’s when I lived in Columbia, but fell in love with Arris’ Pizza Palace when I worked in Jefferson City. My favorite was the Achilles (pepperoni and jalepenos).
Now that I’m in KC, Minsky’s gets too much of my money. I do have a soft spot for Imo’s lunch buffet, though.
Fellini Pizzeria
Providence, RI
Thin crust. Great Sauce & Cheese. Awesome. First Ballot Pizza HOF.
Chicago-style pizza, done right, is the best pizza money can buy. Problem is, it’s hard to find it…even, in my experience, in Chicago. Uno’s and the other tourist spots suck, with the aforementioned problems of the way-too heavy crust, etc.
In St. Paul, Italian Pie Shoppe has the best Chicago-style pizza I’ve ever had — the crust is not too thick or too buttery to overwhelm, but done just right (the key is that it’s thicker on the bottom and thinner on the side). Sets off the sauce, extra cheese, etc.
NY style is also awesome, and frankly, much more practical on a day-to-day level. You’re not going to swing by a pizza joint for a slice of deep dish on the run. For that, Koronet’s on Broadway and 112th (or thereabouts) is the best. Biggest slices in NY I’ve ever seen, a crust just firm enough to hold it, bubbly cheese. Unbeatable.
Neopolitan pizza is nice — I’ve been to Punch more times than I can count — but it isn’t American pizza.
Oh, and a note on Hockey Moms — first, let’s gender-nuetralize this discussion, because Hockey Dads are just as insane — you don’t want a Hockey Parent with their finger on the nuclear trigger (or within a heartbeat from the trigger, blah blah blah). Trust me. Some kid doesn’t make Pee Wees and oops, did I accidentally just set off a nuclear weapon in Moorhead? These aren’t Soccer Moms — they’re crazy people. Trust me.
Oh, and I love St. Louis, but Imo’s pizza and Schnuck’s grocery stores both suck.
I seem to be in the minority here (a very slim minority at that), but I love, LOVE St. Louis cracker-style pizza. Granted, I grew up on it, so it’s forever tied to my childhood, much like Ted Drewes Frozen Custard after a Cardinals game, but I swear, it’s really good. And it doens’t sit on your stomach like a soggy brick afterward – it’s the kind of pizza that goes really well with white wine and cheese.
[...] Sportswriter in the Country. He also runs the best blog by a guy from Cleveland not named Zeus. Here’s his take on pizza in Cincinatti (apparently, it really, really, truly, unbelievably sucks). I hope Hi-Tek doesn’t come [...]
Joe, I love your description of the ideal pizza being the pizza we remember. I was lucky enough to discover that my quarter-century old memories of an ideal pizza were not overly embellished by hindsight. I didn’t really realize how good pizza could be until I left the Midwest to go to Harvard Law School, and discovered Pinocchio Pizza in Harvard Square. Admittedly, the reason I first went there is that the slices seemed pretty cheap (as opposed to just about everything else in the Boston metro area). But I quickly realized that I had not begun to realize how delicious, glorious, and sublime real pizza could be. And I agree that the key was the crust–not thin dry crackers, not doughy globs, but thin, pliable, and just right in terms of texture. Add in great sauce, and your pick of toppings, and Pinocchio was quite good. It was a hole in the wall, with a few tables, a soda machine, heavily accented staff “pepp-roni pisa, number turdy tree.” It also had “Free Howie Winter” graffiti (Howie was the Boston underling of the Patriarch Family out of Providence).
I had never been back to Boston or Cambridge before my 25th law school reunion in 2005. I really didn’t expect Pinocchio’s to be there. Harvard Square had been greatly gentrified in recent years, and I didn’t think this little place would have survived the onslaught of the trendy and chic places. But within a half block of getting off the T and walking south towards the Charles, a student coming towards me was carrying a box of takeout from Pinocchio. And when I walked in…well, it was a little different. That had added salads and pasta dishes to the menu, there was a cooler with drinks instead of a soda machine, the pinball machine (mandated by the Mob when I lived there) was gone, giving room for one more little table, but basically the same. But how would the pizza be?
Deliciious.
Wonderful.
Sometimes you can go home, or at least to your pizza home, again.
Disclaimer, when visiting NY, there is a pizza place whose name escapes me, which is somewhat south and a bit east of times square, that was even better than Pinochios. But it didn’t feel like home.
Joe,
You said you think crust is what makes a pizza great, but I think you’re missing the point. As you said, a bad crust can ruin a pizza, but that doesn’t necessarily mean that a great crust makes a great pizza. If you have great crust but bad sauce or crappy cheese, the pizza will still suck. And at the end of the day, when you eat a piece of pizza, the crust isn’t really what you taste. You will notice the texture, but most of the flavor comes from what is ON the crust, and flavor is what we’re really talking about.
Here’s the thing: crust on a pizza is like the first day at the US Open. You can’t win the tournament on the first day, but you can lose it. Same thing with crust; a great crust by itself doesn’t make a great pizza, but a bad crust can ruin the pizza before it even gets out of the gate (to mix sports metaphors).
To Andy, who cannot eat pizza due to gluten intolerance:
The day I was diagnosed with Celiac Disease (gluten intolerance) was profoundly sad because I had to give up Leo’s Pizza, which is IMHO the very best in KC and the world. However, you can try the gluten free at Waldo Pizza…not a bad substitute for the real thing.
Louie’s Pizza, Stephens & Dequindre, Warren, MI. Just north of Detroit. Awesome.
Joe
Go back to Cincinnati (or Columbus) and eat Adriatico’s. The best pie I have ever had.
I second Vanessa. Punch Pizza in the Twin Cities is fantastic. Better than anything I’ve had in Italy (admittedly, I haven’t been to Naples). Having moved away from Minneapolis three years ago, I really, really miss my regular Punch fix.
For what it’s worth, I agree that most Cincinnati pizza is non-descript. It’s either from a bland, nationwide chain or a bad local imitation of one of those chains. I think LaRosa’s is an exception, but it’s an acquired local taste, like Cincy chili. I worked for LaRosa’s for about ten years, and I do have to say that I really like their pizza even to this day. The sauce is more than tomato paste and water, and the crust is good as long as it isn’t undercooked–flaky, crispy, savory. Ingredients there were fresh and top notch–at least when I was there in the 1990s. I actually miss that place a lot. So, there is one good place that serves something with some appeal. It isn’t Chicago or New York style pizza, but it isn’t Papa McCrap Hut either.
Born in Manhattan and lived my whole life in the northeast, until moving to SoCal last August. i never understood why Domino’s would even bother with franchises there, except for the drunken college delivery market,
There is NO good pizza here. Apart from my family and friends, it (and real delis) are the only things I miss about metro NY.
It isn’t just the general quality, but the variety available – thin crust, thicker crust, bread-slab Sicilian, etc. All over metro NY, you could get what you felt like at that moment.
In NJ – Firehouse Pizza in East Orange is a must-try, but there plenty of good, nondescript joints in every town, the worst of which blows Cali pie away.
One of my earliest memories is getting a pizza slice through a window on the street in NYC as a four-year old. I can still recall the taste. There is lots of (relatively) bad pie available in NYC, but more than enough good slices to make up for it.
My grandparents lived in Ravena, outside Albany, NY, and Bernasconi’s rectangular pies live in my memory, though it is long gone. I used to get up early just to beat my brother to the cold leftovers.
I lived in CT, and had many visits to Pepe’s and Sally’s both are awesome. But there were a few places like Mike’s in Fairfield that cooked the pies in a pan, making a deliciously crisp crust.
If you go to Providence, be sure not to simply order a “plain” pie because you won’t get cheese (elsewhere, plain = cheese only – cheese is assumed).
I knew a spot in Long Island that put the cheese underneath the marinara, so that the oils oozed into the dough – a nice variation and texture change.
Most pies in Boston were the thin-crust that I prefer, so that was always a treat.
I have to go check Travelocity now…
Stay away from Pizza Bogo in Cleveland Heights. Ownership is not very friendly and we need to support local shops. They have ok pizza but treat customers like we are nothing to them. When times are tough quality counts and they have very poor quality!!
Try Deweys around the corner. They are great with the family and make a great pizza pie. They will treat you well. Pizza Bogo is a mess.
You are not wrong in your assessment of King Cole Pizza in Cleveland. It was taken over by his son and his son opened a place in Mentor, Ohio under the same name, but business was not his strong suit and he closed that one, too. I had King Coles in the 80’s and no pizza will ever come close to the crust or topping on a King Coles Pizza. Period.