Adam,
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.
Hasta la pizza,
Adam
An interesting item hit the Slice inbox yesterday.
OK guys, put this in your pie and smoke it!
A couple of caveats: The list isn't quite as definitive as it claims to be, as it is missing any critical analysis of Staten Island, Queens, and Bronx joints. When you guys post this on the site (front page, please), perhaps you may want to refer to it as "The Definitive Manhattan and Brooklyn Top 10 List." We've all been to these places enough times to know what's going on and who's coming with their A game and who isn't.
Seltzerboy, as a fellow SU alum, I tried to get in touch with you when I first moved to New York, and I also furnished you with a copy of the Syracuse Pizza Manifesto, another masterwork I coauthored. But to no avail, I never really heard back from you other than a weak Orangeman shout out. We'll take you choads in a pie-off any day of the week! Now, without further ado....
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.
'American Eats' Offers the True American (Pizza) Pie [New York Times]
WORKERS ALLEGE UNPAID WAGES; SEEK DAMAGES, INTEREST DUE
A Slice source forwarded us this docket (above), which details a lawsuit brought against Lombardi's on April 5 by seven former pizza deliverymen.
The plaintiffs allege the pizzeria owes them unpaid wages and are seeking damages and interest due. The suit claims that the pizzeria never paid the plaintiffs the Federal minimum wage, instead paying "$20 shift — resulting in an hourly rate ranging from approximately $2.86 an hour to approximately $3.05 an hour." (The Federal Minimum Wage as of September 1, 1997, is $5.15 an hour.) Moreover, the lawsuit claims that the pizzeria lowered the wages of five of the plaintiffs when they asked the defendant for pay increases.
The case was filed in U.S. District Court, Southern District of New York. Here is the entire docket in PDF: Roberto Olivares, Celestino Hernandez, Tereso Coronado, Hector Betanzo, Jose G. Peralta, Carlos Salinas, and Juan Olivares de la Torre v. Pizza of 32 Spring Street, Inc. d/b/a Lombardi's Pizza and John Brescio
Heath Ledger. 3/29/2006. Lombardi’s Pizza. 32 Spring St. 8pm. Sat down with 2 friends, in the booth right next to me. No Michelle and baby Matilda. Ordered a sausage pizza. Looks like he likes the sausage, not just in the movies. (I’m sorry, bad joke).[Gawker Stalker]
Here's the American Pizzeria Timeline, which includes only two non–Pizza Belt entries, Tommaso's and Uno's:
1905: Lombardi's, on Spring Street in New York City, is granted the nation's first license to sell pizza.
1910: Joe's Tomato Pies opens in the Trenton, New Jersey, Chambersburg neighborhood.
1912: Papa's Tomato Pies in Trenton opened by Papa, who learned his trade at Joe's.
1924: Anthony (Totonno) Pero leaves Lombardi's and opens Totonno's in Coney Island, New York.
1925: Frank Pepe opens on Wooster Street in New Haven, Connecticut.
You've heard of the corn belt and the rust belt. But what about the Pizza Belt, the part of America that gave birth to what Jeffrey Steingarten calls Neapolitan-American pizza. The Pizza Belt starts in Philadelphia and runs through Trenton and the rest of New Jersey. It extends throughout New York, Long Island, and New Haven and ends in Boston. Think of it as the Interstate 95 belt, with a few detours along the way.
It was in New York that Neapolitan immigrant and grocery store owner Gennaro Lombardi was granted the nation's first Ilcense to sell pizza in 1905. Lombardi's, in turn, spawned Totonno's in 1924 and John's in 1929 and, in an apparently unrelated move, Patsy's in East Harlem in 1933. Joe's Tomato Pies opened in Trenton in 1910, followed by Papa's Tomato Pies in 1912. New Haven was next, where a Neapolitan immigrant Italian bread baker named Frank Pepe opened his eponymous Pizzeria Napoletana in 1925, followed in short order by Paul's Apizza in 1932, State Street Apizza (now called Modern Apizza) in 1934 and finally Sally's in 1938 (founded by Frank Pepe's nephew, Salvatore Consiglio). In Philadelphia, Salvatore and Chiarina Marra opened Marra's in 1927. The Tacconelli family started baking bread in their Port Richmond neighborhood in the 1920s, though they didn't start making pizza until 1946. Similarly, in East Boston, Francisco Santarpio baked bread at his eponymous bakery until Prohibition ended in 1933, when he took over the adjoining storefront and began serving pizza. Seven years before that, Anthony Polcari opened Pizzeria Regina in Boston's North End.
Why did all these pizzerias start in the same 33-year period? What did they have in common? Did Frank Pepe work at Lombardi's before moving to New Haven? Here's what we do know. There was a tremendous wave of southern Italian immigration in the late nineteenth century. These immigrants all came in through Ellis Island, and then fanned out along the Eastern Seaboard looking for work among relatives, neighbors, and friends who had come from the same area in Italy. New York, of course, was where they landed, so it made sense for a certain number of them to look for and find work there. Trenton had hundreds of thousands of manufacturing jobs and a burgeoning Itallan-American community called Chambersburg. New Haven had many factories (including Colt Industries), as well as a plethora of fishing and port-related jobs. Philadelphia (South Philly) and Boston (East Boston and the North End) both had fast-growing Italian-American communities with thriving commercial centers.
What can we conclude from all this? That the development of America's pizza culture closely followed southern Italian immigration patterns. If the southern Italians had come into this country through Duluth, Minnesota might have been known as the Land of a Thousand Pizzas.
Ed Levine is a regular contributor to the New York Times Dining section and is author of New York Eats and New York Eats More. He also maintains a blog: Ed Levine Eats. This entry is an excerpt from his book Pizza: A Slice of Heaven
Once upon a time, around the turn of the last century, pizza in America was an inexpensive peasant food, made casalinga (home-style) by southern Italian immigrant women in their kitchens. Adverse economic conditions had forced four million southern Italians to come to America by 1900. Descendents of all the seminal American pizza makers indicated their ancestors learned to make pizza by watching relatives make it at home.
In 1905, Gennaro Lombardi applied to the New York City government for the first license to make and sell pizza in this country, at his grocery store on Spring Street in what was then a thriving Italian-American neighborhood. In 1912, Joe's Tomato Pies opened in Trenton, New Jersey. Twelve years later, Anthony (Totonno) Pero left Lombardi's to open Totonno's in Coney Island. A year later, in 1925, Frank Pepe opened his eponymous pizzeria in New Haven, Connecticut. In 1929, John Sasso left Lombardi's to open John's Pizza in Greenwich Village. The thirties saw pizza spread to Boston (Santarpio's in 1933) and San Francisco with the opening of Tommaso's (1934), followed shortly thereafter with additional openings in New Jersey (Sciortino's in Perth Amboy in 1934 and the Reservoir Tavern in Boonton in 1936). In 1943, Chicago pizza was born when Ike Sewell opened Uno's. What did New York, New Haven, Boston, and Trenton have in common? Factory work available to poorly educated southern Italian immigrants. Pizza at this point was very much an ethnic, poor person's food eaten by Italians in the urban enclaves in which they had settled.
It's been a while since Slice has put on the ol' waders and panned through the muck that is Craigslist's Missed Connections. But we're glad we did. We struck gold in this edition of That's Amore. It features legendary pizzerias Di Fara and Lombardi's. XOXO, Ed.
DiFrara Pizza , Friday NIght - m4w - 30 : you were that beautiful lady that order a pie for you and your friend. I was seatting next to you with my sister. wanted to say hi, but did not. wish i did. i guess is too late now. —peace Slice wishes you did, too. Could there be a better meet-cute story than hooking up at Di Fara? Wait, don't answer that.
Lombardi's Pizza Last Night - m4w - 25 :I noticed you at dinner while you were eating next to me and my friend. and then, when you almost knocked over our pizza and flashed a smile in embarrassment, I was too speechless to say a thing...wish i would have gotten your number... No loss here. You're better off without this clutz.
Avoiding Eye Contact - m4w - 24 : You were sitting and eating a slice of pizza and maybe garlic knots. I sat down and ate a slice across from you. Then I got up and got a soda and sat down and drank it. We made eye contact maybe twice. It was hard for me not to stare. I had just gotten up from a nap and so it seemed a little like a dream. I think you wanted to talk to me too. Email to confirm. (this is in or around Famiglia Pizza on 8th St and Broadway) Next! Her breath be all stanky from the garlic knots, yo.
We Spoke in Ben's Pizza Tuesday - m4m : We spoke in Ben's Pizza today Tuesday 2/7/06 around 5PM. You very handsome, wore an orange T-shirt. Me s&p hair, wore a Tan turtle neck shirt. I kept looking at you. When I smiled and you asked if this was Macdougal St. And I said it was. We never got to talk further because your friend came in. I really would like to make a connection with you. Hope you see this and respond. Uh, what is "s&p hair"?
beautiful blonde waitress - Rosa's Pizza- Fresh Pond Rd - m4w - 26 : Tonight I went into Rosa's Pizzeria on Fresh Pond Rd. near Metropolitian Avenue, for the first time in years and I saw the most beautiful woman I've ever laid eyes on. The waitress..... She was tall, slim, and had the brightest smile, prittiest eyes, and cutest little voice. If anyone knows her...tell her to chech this out. I'd love to talk to her again. Just a bit shy......I now live in Long Island..a little far for a slice, but she's definately worth the trip!! Maybe you can get her to quote-unquote deliver.
girl at Old Bridge Deli 373 Lexington Ave | At 41st St - 23 : So you only caught your eyes for a second at the cafe but I can't get that glance out of my head. Sure, I'm an attractive guy and catch glances all the time but wow, there was something great about you. I was that dude who was sitting with two friends having pizza. I left with my friends after lunch and walked for about a block before realizing that I really wanted to meet you. I walked back in the deli and I almost walked into you walking down the stairs. But, I didn't quite know what to say or how to say it, so, I continued walking. I went to the restroom and came back having worked up my courage. But by then you had walked out of the store. I looked around and walked all the four blocks looking for a glance of you. Alas, I regret few things but not saying "hi" has got to be one of them. Anyone know this girl? I don't think people ever have second chances but if you know an Asian girl dressed casually in jeans reading the Post who was in midtown and ate at Old Bridge Deli 373 Lexington Ave at 41st St today around 1:10-1:30, let her know that she wowed someone today and to write back. Real specific description there. ... "If you know a white dude in a suit in the Financial District reading the Journal ... "
Our readers are some of the best. We asked for reports and photos from the Lombardi's 5¢ pie day, and you delivered. (Unlike Lombardi's—cheap pies for dine-in customers only.) Below is a first-hand account. — Ed.
Words by Keven Roche .::. Photographs by Eli Berdougo .::. Went last night right after work and got there around 5:30 p.m. Line held about 100 people at that time. After about an hour, my friend and I got a table, ordered a pie with meatballs, and took in the entertainment. There was a "band" consisting of an accordion and various other instruments improvised from pizza-making equipment, such as pizza sheets, spatulas, salt shakers, and forks.
I think we were sitting next to some Lombardi family VIPs because these old men knew everyone (even the band) and kept ordering pie after pie and beer after beer. There was an ungodly racket going on throughout the place, but everyone was happy with their pies and happy to be inside after standing in line in the cold.
About the pie: It was the best pie I've had at Lombardi's. Period. Crust was crisp on the bottom and on the edges; a couple of blackened bubbles on top; nice, chewy tooth; slightly sour; terriffic. Nice distribution of meatballs and good
cheese–sauce ratio. I had stopped going to Lombardi's about a year ago because of inconsistency, and I could see other tables' pies that were very soggy and limp. Ours was crisp and chewy throughout, and we were able to pick up and fold each slice we ate. Too bad for those whose pies were subpar. Ours was delicious.
On our way out, at about 7:45 p.m., the line looked like it was twice as long as when I first began my wait. Awesome old cars out front.
Pie: 5¢
Meatballs: $3.
Pitcher of Stella: $18.
Total before tip: $21.05
I know, I know: You're probably sick of hearing about Lombardi's and its 5¢ pies today. But here's a couple photos of the line there. The top photo is from Gothamist editor Jen Chung, via her Flickr photo account. (Thanks, Jen!) The one directly above is from a coworker's boyfriend. (Thanks, Ben!)
This is the last you'll hear from us on the Lombardi's thing &$151; unless a reader sends us a first-hand account of his or her experience at the day's pie-a-thon. Anyone?
Get thee to Lombardi's.
(Doesn't quite have the ring of a nunnery, but what are you going to do?)
Slice predicts lines to rival those of any major religious pilgrimage when Lombardi's throws open its doors on the 5¢ pie deal today.
Looks like Lombardi's is predicting the same thing. And Gothamist editor Jen Chung provides the photographic evidence via her Flickr photo stream.
Anyone else in the neighborhood today is encouraged to send Slice shots of the line or your feast, should you brave that line.
Just a reminder: Lombardi's (32 Spring Street; Nolita) will be selling pies for 5¢ tomorrow as part of its centennial celebration.
If you go and are so inclined, we'd love photos of the crazy-ass line that's sure to form. You can send them to us at adam (at) sliceny (dot) com
A Pizza Party, New York Post; photograph by Lockhart Steele
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.
A Pizza Party, New York Post; photograph by Lockhart Steele
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")."
Thanks, Mr. Steele.
LOMBARDI'S
Location: 32 Spring Street, Manhattan NY 10012
Phone: 212-941-7994
Payment accepted: Cash, checks
Old Friends, Old Pizza
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.
LOMBARDI'S
Location: 32 Spring Street, Manhattan NY 10012
Phone: 212-941-7994
Payment accepted: Cash, checks
FURTHER READING
New York Pizza, The Real Thing, Makes A Comeback
Chowhound on Lombardi's: here and here.
What folks on eGullet are saying about Lombardi's.
SAY NUMBER 13: Dom DeMarco, Slice's "Italian hero," makes the cover of this week's Village Voice. The alt-weekly's Robert Sietsema tallies his top 100 Italian restaurants, DeMarco of Di Fara fame clocking in at lucky thirteen.
Robert Sietsema of the Village Voice runs down his top 100 Italian restaurants. Seeing as how pizza is Italian or Italian American (depending on style), there are more than a few pizzerias in the mix.
The usual suspects appear throughout as well as a few surprises and what might be hidden gems. Following, we've digested the list, ignoring any nonpizza establishments. For the full list, click here.
We were delirious yet dismayed to see Dom DeMarco of Di Fara Pizza on the cover—heartened that Mr. DeMarco is once again getting the recognition he deserves but upset that the crowds at his pizzeria will inevitably grow larger (and also perplexed that he ranked no higher than thirteen while less-deserving places sit in the top ten).
Well, without further ado, here is the list, parsed for pizza entries...
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."
Greg graciously volunteered to snap a picture of this illustration, which hangs on the wall of Totonno's, at the most recent meeting of the Slice Pizza Club.
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.
Low Culture gets a fake scoop, posting a fake interview with News Corp scion Lachlan Murdoch. In it, Rupert's son and the third-most-powerful macher at the media giant, raves about a powerful pizza-macher:
Lombardi's pizza is great. We were gonna put in a coal-burning pizza oven, but then my wife—that would be supermodel Sarah O'Hare—reminded me of Lombardi's. Saved me $20,000!
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?
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