Just a quick contact sheet for all y’all pizza lovers out there…
A week before the closing of Delorenzo’s Tomato Pies, with Men Who Dine and Pizza Rules.
Last weekend marked the end of an era for Delorenzo’s Tomato Pies on Hudson Street in Trenton, NJ. It was one of the country’s greatest pizzerias, not only because of its food but also as an iconic space that was enjoyed by so many over the course of its 60+ years in existence. But although Trenton’s pizza (err…. tomato pie) scene has taken a hit, there’s still refuge for those who dig an honest place for an honest pie that hasn’t been corrupted or modified since day 1. After my final visit to Delorenzo’s on Hudson St with Men Who Dine and Nick from Pizza Rules, we hit two additional spots to round out the trip. It’s obvious that the Trenton tomato pie lives on even without its most famous landmark.
Delorenzo’s Pizza on Hamilton Ave
First of all, notice the difference in the name: Delorenzo’s Tomato Pies on Hudson Street is the one that just closed (on Sunday) and Delorenzo’s Pizza on Hamilton Ave remains open. The two were started by brothers but the pizza is completely different. DTP (Delorenzo’s Tomato Pies) lays the sauce on top of the cheese while DP (Delorenzo’s Pizza) cheeses above the sauce. The crust is also different but I don’t want to go down this road or we’ll be comparing doorknob and toilet seat choices before long. Suffice it to say this is a place you can grab some good food and be comfortable while doing it.
I know, it’s empty. That’s because Nick and I got there as they were about to close. The line at DTP was long so we had only 30 min to stop by the remaining two pizzerias on our hit list (both are closed by 8:45pm). Just look at those beautiful red booths and classy wood paneling. Just in case you can’t taste it from a photo of the interior, here’s a shot of the pie…
All my Trenton photos look funny, but the crust really was this yellow. Is it semolina? Corn? I have no idea but maybe it’s a secret from the ancient pizza making rituals. Didn’t you know that Delorenzo’s Pizza is related to the origin of pizza itself? According to their menu, the pizza maker at DP was trained by a direct descendant of Domenico Testa, the pizza maker who allegedly served pizza to King Ferdinand II in the 1830s. Is it true? And if so, does it actually mean anything? (wow, I’ve been watching too much Ancient Aliens lately)
Papa’s Tomato Pies
This one’s my personal favorite Trenton spot. It has the same homey vibe as both Delos’ but even more charm in terms of its story. Joe Papa opened this place in 1912 after working at another tomato pie joint. His family has run it ever since, which makes it the oldest continuous pizzeria business in the USA. Don’t confuse this claim with Lombardi’s in New York City, which was the first dedicated pizzeria in the USA. Both these claims are different from Totonno’s, which has been run by the same family in the same location since 1924 (Papa’s moved), making it the longest running pizzeria location in the country.
Papa’s Tomato Pies is adorable. Nick Azzaro and his family take great care of you and there’s even a booklet with articles, reviews and history on each table. Again, it’s only empty in the photo because we got there late, but this is absolutely what a pizzeria is supposed to look like. Get a load of those light fixtures! And the pie ain’t bad either…
Classic NJ pizza at its best. Sorry it’s in a box, I’m really not into that, but they were closing and we had to hit the road. I should also point out that this is closest Trenton’s old tomato pie scene has to a New York pizza because the crust is a bit softer than both Delos and Papa’s cuts each pie into 8 slices whereas Delo’s cuts their into 10. Don’t ask me why.
It’s sad that Delorenzo’s Tomato Pies closed but there’s still plenty of action at these other Trenton landmarks. Just be sure to check their schedules before you go, I’ve taken drives down only to meet a CLOSED sign on more than one occasion.
It may not feel like Winter in New York, but there is no avoiding the deep chill that is sure to come. And when that day arrives, you’ll want nothing more than a cozy fire and a good book about pizza. Fear not, dear slice-o-phile, for there are several fantastic reads at your local book shoppery that promise to keep you warm while nature does her thing. Here’s a roundup of some books I’ve been spending time with lately…
1. Artisan Pizza and Flatbread in Five Minutes a Day by Jeff Hertzberg, M.D., and Zoe Francois (St Martin’s Press)
Artisan Pizza and Flatbread in Five Minutes a Day is exactly what it sounds like. This is the latest in a series about hassle-free bread baking and it’s totally awesome. Baking pizza is an extremely practical way to feed yourself AND heat yourself. The book makes you feel like a jerk for wasting so much of your life not making pizza at home with its ridiculously simple dough recipes. No complicated steps or fancy words, just simple ingredients that combine to make dough that sits in your refrigerator until you’re ready to bake.
Montanara at Forcella in NYC.
Yes, you read that correctly. Fried pizza is real and it’s comin’ to getcha. Imagine a sweet, innocent pizza walking home one night only to be cornered in a dark alley by a dangerous deep fryer. Sounds terrifying, but the confrontation actually results in a flavor mashup the likes of which few tongues have ever tasted. It combines the danger of oil with the familiarity of typical pizza toppings. New York pizza is currently experiencing its first real dose of the deep fryer, but what exactly is it and where does it come from?
I became a big proponent of fryers when I bought one in college. We had parties on Friday nights in which friends would bring over anything they wanted to fry. Yes, we did call it FriedDay. People brought anything from chicken and fish to cookies and Hostess cupcakes. We formulated different batters for sweet and savory items and eventually bought a second fryer to accommodate both genre. Come to think of it, I don’t remember cooking anything else when I was in college - those fryers were pretty much it!
Suffice it to say, I was into frying almost as much as I was into pizza. So when my friend Jeff called me in 2003 to tell me there was a place doing deep-fried pizza in Brooklyn, I jumped on a train from New Jersey and met him at Chip Shop in Park Slope. What we got was a lackluster slice from the pizzeria across the street battered abused by the deep fryer. We could still taste the briny residue from the day’s orders of fish and chips. It was totally gross.
New York Post article about Forcell’s Montanara. The media loves it.
Luckily, the fried pizza hitting NYC today is a completely different animal. I remember hearing about it from Keste’s Roberto Caporuscio, but Giulio Adriani was the first to pull it off at his Williamsburg pizzeria Forcella. The process begins with a stretched piece of dough, opened in the same way a dough would be stretched for pizza. The one major difference is that the dough is punctured at several spots inside the outer rim. This “docking” process eliminates gas pockets that would normally expand when met with extreme heat. The dough is then placed into the deep fryer, where it puffs up and forms a bread bowl that is both light and crispy. After pulling the dough out and drying it for a few seconds, toppings are applied and the whole thing slides into the oven in a small metal dish so the oily dough doesn’t make contact with the brick hearth and send smoke throughout the space. After a quick dip into the oven, the cheese is melted and the sauce is cooked. The result is a complete departure from pizza baked solely inside an oven.
These amazing SPT holiday cards went out to pizzerias, folks who took private tours and other pizza buddies.
(image by Kristina Sacci)
I was on 101.9 FM News today talking about coal-burning ovens. FUN!
All pies go to heaven.
(Trenton, NJ) - DeLorenzo’s Tomato Pies on Hudson Street in Trenton, NJ has announced its imminent closing on Jan 15, 2012. This is a sad moment for New Jersey pizza lovers who take pride in the small handful of “tomato pie” spots in the Trenton enclave of Chambersburg.
ABC 7 did a story about the pizza tour for all New York metro area viewers but YOU get to see it here, thanks to the magic of the Internet!
Get your tickets, gift certificates and assorted holiday gifts at www.scottspizzatours.com.
Pagliacci’s box top describes the life cycle of a pizza box.
Don’t you just love pizza boxes? They are the unsung hero of busy/lazy food eaters everywhere and we need to take a moment out of our busy schedules to pay respect. At their most basic, pizza boxes transport food from oven to hungry person, but some boxes go the extra mile. There’s a whole world of engineering and design that happen behind the scenes and this box from Pagliacci Pizza in Seattle, WA is a testament to that process.
The box itself is a pretty standard corrugated unbleached Michigan-style unit. That means it’s your basic cardboard box. Bleached paper is white and looks nice with printing, but this box keeps it simple with its natural finish. Michigan-style (aka Walker Lock) just means the front flap folks over itself to hold in the side flaps, which creates a sturdy structural element that can stand up to the weight of multiple pizzas in a stack. [I’m pretty sure it’s called Michigan Style because it was first used for a Michigan-based pizza company called Domino’s.]
Hopes were not high as Jeff and I approached the pizzeria. Jeff is a food lover, food blogger, food hunter and recently converted tour guide (check him out at his awesome food website). He created the Real Pizza of New York mobile app, which helps users find the standout pizzerias on NYC. It’s legit. As we are cut from the same cloth, Jeff and I sometimes check out pizzerias together. Last month, Jeff and I met on Arthur Ave in the Bronx to check out a recently-converted coal-fired bakery to see how the pizza-o-meter registered. After our main course, Jeff mentioned another place in the neighborhood that might be worth a visit. The name Pugsley’s didn’t ring a bell, but somebody had apparently told me about it because it was right there on my hit list. It was right there at the bottom — lowest priority possible.
When we turned onto 191st Street there was not a single business in site. I started to doubt Jeff’s sense of direction (even though it’s thousands of times better than mine) when we stumbled upon a sign from the heavens. Well, it was technically on the ground but it most certainly was a sign. The image of a slice within a circle was carved into the sidewalk cement. Either this was the place or someone was dealing illegal slices nearby.
The building is set back several meters and looks nothing like any pizzeria in the city; it felt like the Fratelli’s restaurant from the Goonies. We crept up the stairs, afraid of an imagined alarm system set to warn Bronxonians when a couple of pizza junkies were snooping about. But no alarm went off by the time we opened the front door. Instead, we were welcomed by the most beautiful site I’ve ever seen in a pizzeria.
The interior was like nothing I had ever seen. There weren’t any checkered tablecloths. No statuettes of mustachioed Italian men. No typical signage or menus. I don’t even remember seeing an oven in there. It’s more like an interactive piece of folk art than an eatery, but several indicators revealed that there was indeed some food to be had. Handmade signage adorns all walls, surfaces, empty spaces, crowded spaces, etc. But instead of offering combos and food deals, the signage merely uses food as a subplot to the main concern of this pizzeria: happiness.
