Pittsburgh Dish

Scoop du Jour: Pie to die for?

Reader recommendations to woo pizza snobs (aka Dish)

We'd said it, you've read it (over and over again). Dish has standards when it comes to pizza (but not much else) that Pittsburgh has yet to reach. Lucky for Dish, readers continue their attempts to sway us. Here are the latest raves:

A fellow emigre from Connecticut emailed Dish to rave about Harry's Pizza (4133 Washington Road, Rt. 19, McMurray, 724-969-0444). He was so inspired he wrote a review on Chowhound:

Finally, a Pittsburgh pizza for CT transplants

Harry's in McMurray in Waterdam Plaza. I'm eating some right now and am ecstatic. Pittsburgh natives would probably not understand, but for all us transplants from the NJ/Boston corridor... this might well be the place you've been searching.

It was recommended to us by an employee who said it was simply the best pizza around. We asked "Why?" but she couldn't explain. On the way home from a long road trip, we found ourselves heading north on 19, so we called up and ordered a mushroom and sausage.

We arrived a few minutes ahead of the pie being ready. They offered us a free soda to drink while waiting. We opted for water. Then out of the corner of our eye, we saw a big, flat, ingredients-almost-to-the-edge pizza that, for the first time since moving here five years ago, we could say, "Now THAT looks like pizza."

We begin reading an article about the place... turns out it is a branch of Harry's from West Hartford, which at one point employed someone who worked the oven at the original Frank Pepe's. And that's what the pizza at Harry's looks like.

Upon looking at the menu, our jaw dropped. Not only did Harry's offer eggplant, zucchini and ricotta as possible toppings, but they offered a WHITE CLAM PIZZA. We know what we're trying next trip.

As to the taste, is it Sally's or Pepe's or Modern (pictured above and right)? No. They use a conventional pizza oven, not masonry. Thus, the pies don't have those classic scorch marks on the bottom of the crust like the New Haven palaces. The very outside edge of the crust doesn't bubble and isn't singed. Still, those are but minor points in the overall picture .

Here's what tonight's pie did feature:

A toothy crust, not soggy, not stiff, not cardboardy. You can taste the wheat.

FRESH sauteed mushrooms - and lots of them

Sweet, not hot sausage (we believe a traditional fennel/garlic variety)

Tomatoes (could be San Marzano, we didn't ask) instead of canned pizza sauce

Quality mozzarella used judiciously, not overwhelmingly

Thankfully we need to go down that way once a week for other reasons, so there will be a Harry's night once a week in our home*.

*Note: We still love Il Pizzaiolo, but that's an artisan pie at a different level with different expectations - but if Harry's had a brick oven, it might be a much closer call.

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From Sonny Amato:

Just checking out your pizza reviews (there are a lot of unacceptable pies in the 'Burgh) and wanted to suggest the family shop, Amato's Pizza (376 Butler St., Etna, 412 781-9789).

I don't work there or own any stake it in-- my uncle does and my grandfather did--but it's definitely worth a taste if you're sick of the cookie cutter pies with cheap ingredients around here.

Square shape, light and thin crust and good sauce (not overly sweet).

Anyway, just a suggestion if you're looking for a traditional place (there since 1954). Not a sit down--but I recommend eating at the counter.....

Enjoy.

The Dish on Pie: Vincent's Pizza Park

Bring Biore Strips.

Dish's dear friends know we are pizza snobs. Dish moved from New Haven, Conn., home to the most glorious pizza parlors on earth. We can't help ourselves. If there were a 12-step program for this arrogant disorder, Dish would gladly make surrender ourselves to a higher power.

Try as they may, Dish's Pittsburgh pals have yet to bring us a place with good pie: The Sharp Edge; Pi; Giorgio's; Pizza Vesuvio and Legends.

With the exception of Legends and Pizza Vesuvio, Dish found the rest pretty dreadful.

"You'll like Vincent's," Beth said, describing it as thick with lots of cheese. Dish said no. But off to Forest Hills Dish went last night.

Dish likes thin, slightly well-done crust with a light layer of sauce and cheese. Yet we can appreciate a thick, doughy pie on occasion. Vincent's trademark thick pizza might just be the exception.

We're new to Pittsburgh and to the cult following of "The Vinny Pie." The place itself is fine--a roomy roadside space with large mirrors, long tables and vinyl booths. Walls were papered with favorable newspaper reviews, so much so it seemed a little too self-congratulatory. A few alternaboys sat at the bar hovered over the City Paper, waiting for Central Casting to call. 22-ounce Yuenglings and Coronas were $3.50. Frosty mugs of draught beer were $3.

Dish was presented with a large pepperoni ($12). It's very big, very cheesy and very doughy with handfuls of delicious pepperoni thrown in the middle. It tastes more like a calzone casserole than a pizza; all the ingredients mush together forming this gnarled, glommy mess. The crust is nicely browned and moist but almost too thick. As to the grease: You don't realize just how oily it is until a few slices have been removed. The "Vinny Pie" could be renamed the "Exxon Valdez."

All pizza should be eaten seconds out of the oven. Especially Vincent's. After about five minutes the mozzarella congealed. It became Stretch Armstrong Cheese.

As for it's digestive properties: it's the pizza equivalent of a White Castle belly bomber.

If you like freakishly thick, Beelzabubbly pizza, Vincent's your God. Dish'll remain agnostic.

Vincent's Pizza Park, 998 Ardmore Blvd., Forest Hills, 412-271-9181.

Quickie food review: Pizza at Church Brew Works

Church Brew Works (3525 Liberty Ave., Lawrenceville, 412-688-8200)

Pizza review: Tastes like DiGiorno with thicker, sweeter sauce.

Beer review: Was that beer?

(The pierogies were very good and if you were raised Catholic, the sight of giant beer tanks near the Infant of Prague alcove is worth the trip.)

Food file: There ought to be a law

(10 p.m. last Thursday night)

911. What's your emergency?

I'd like to make a citizens' arrest.

OK ma'am, what's your location?

The Sharp Edge (302 S Saint Clair St, East Liberty, Pittsburgh, 412-661-3537).

Who would you like to arrest?

Not who, what.

Ma'am?

I'd like to arrest this pizza for impersonating a pizza.

Are you on medication ma'am?

No.

Click.

(Next morning)

Mayor's Office may I help you?

Yes, I'd like to speak to Mayor Murphy.

Ma'am what is this regarding?

I'd like to make a proposal.

What would you like to propose?

I'd like him to build a pizza jail.

Ma'am?

Pizza jail. You know, a place where bad pizzas go.

The mayor has more important issues to address.

No, really, hear me out. Hello? hello?

Click.

(Having given up on the pizza jail proposal Dish switches tactics)

Dear Mayor Murphy,

We, the editors of Pittsburgh Dish, a crackpot online newspaper, respectfully submit the following appeal for An Ordinance Barring a Once-Decent Pizza Establishment from Passing Off That Hideous Amalgamation of Soggy Bread, Taste-Free Red Stuff Thought to be Sauce and What Was Presumed to be Cheese as Pie.

Whereas, A certain restaurant with the finest selection of beer, Belgium and otherwise, in all the land that can boast a proud past as a beacon of tasty pizza in an area where people actually order Domino’s because they want it, not simply as a matter of convenience, has lost not only its charm with its renovation (those old booths were uncomfortable and the carpet was appalling, but that’s what the Sharp Edge looks like, geez), but also it’s quality pizza.

Whereas, It seems as if the pizza oven was set to, like, 250 degrees and, come on, everyone knows the damn pie ought to be cooked at a very high temperature (preferably with a coal- or wood-fired oven) so that the crust (which must be very, very thin by the way) burns a tad, and likewise the cheese.

Whereas, There’s just no reason to put that much cheese on anything. Holy Hell.

Whereas, At least there’s still plenty of good beer and the server was especially pleasant, so it’s not as if there’s absolutely no reason to go the Edge any longer (though a former Edge employee informs Dish that a lot of the neighborhood regulars rather despise the new incarnation but figure, “Where else can I find all these beers?,” so keep showing up). Whereas, But, with that said, the pizza just stinks.

Whereas, If it were never good, who would care.

Whereas, Dish is very disappointed. Be it Ordained that the Sharp Edge is forbidden, estopped, prevented, disallowed, unpermitted, denotbarred, from continuing to make pizza in the manner that is currently practiced because, frankly, the whole thing is just upsetting—especially considering that Dish took friends to the place, persuading them to come by telling them that, “The pizza at this place is pretty good. It has this somewhat unusual, but really crispy, crust and there’s just enough cheese and the sauce is very, very good,” and then was made to look like a fool.

August 11, 2005 in Beer, Food and Drink, Food/Restaurant reviews, More Opinion, Opinion, Pizza, Scoop du Jour | Permalink | Comments (4)

June 30, 2005

Dish on Pi

Pi by Vallozzi

5829 Forbes Ave., (412) 521-3880

It's math, but is it pie?

About five years ago, I was invited to appear on a television show in Boston to talk about New Haven pizza (trust me, I must've been their last resort). Aside from being camera shy, I don't consider myself an expert on anything and I shudder at the word "foodie," a term this program used frequently. So, in my place I sent two friends--Jack and Drew--two guys who know their way around a pie (and donuts, burgers, hotdogs, subs, fries and beer). They arrived in the studio and sat next to a few select panelists, mostly from Boston. Jack sat next to the right-hand man to uber gourmet chef Todd English. After the two hour drive from New Haven to the studio, grease had soaked through the boxes and our prized pizzas looked a little rough and tumble. The boys performed nicely and the host of the show had one final question for Jack.

"What wouldn't you want to find on a pizza," asked the host.

"Fennel?" replied Jack. (You should know that Jack calls all gourmet sandwiches "The RobesPierre.")

English's flack was next. His presentation could've won a James Beard award. He brought along garnish and wine. Our New Haven pies looked like two-bit hookers next to his saucy runway models and we brought along New Haven's Foxon Park Soda). He was asked to describe his pizza.

"This one is our best seller," he said pointing like Carrol Merrill, "goat cheese, fresh tomato [pause] and fennel."

I remembered that Jack moment walking into the much ballyhooed Pi. It's modern design is pretty if you go for that sort of thing. And the giant plaster nose and ear mounted to the wall sets the standard in olefactory chic. But because we come from a town where some of the best pizza joints have an old t.v. in the corner blaring Wheel of Fortune, I couldn't help but be suspect by the Metropolis inspired interior.

We were told Pi is one of the first gourmet pizza restaurants in Pittsburgh. Swell. It's signature pastry crust is tasty if you prefer your pizza tasting like a croissant. Honestly, we like it for what it is: a RobesPierre.

Our friend Mike was visiting from New Haven that weekend. He bit into a slice and smirked. New Haveners in the room new exactly what he was about to say.

"Pi's pie is excellent--it just isn't pie."

June 30, 2005 in Food/Restaurant reviews, Pizza, Scoop du Jour | Permalink | Comments (1)

May 14, 2005

The Dish on Pie

We moved from a city where sheets of cheese fall from the sky, sauce flows from the taps and dough cushions every prickly park bench. Pizza, in all its saucy glory, is hotly debated like politics, religion and sex. It is the home of the Father, Son and Holy Ghost in the name of Sally's, Pepe's and Modern (above). New Haveners can't help but boast about our cheesy roots, especially when we leave. Pittsburgh Dish may be limited in scope on many subjects but this we are confident: You haven't tasted good pie unless you've been to the Elm City. Though we don't proclaim ourselves expert gastronomists like Jane & Michael Stern (and for this we are thankful) we do know our way round a pie. That said, we'll find a suitable substitution, maybe even two, in Pittsburgh.

Our experiences thus far...

Giorgio's Place

908 Western Ave.

(412) 322-0404

1969. Mom in kitchen. Mom swirls jarred pizza sauce onto leftover dough. Mom artfully arranges packaged shredded mozzarella atop sauce. Budding chef/daughter slides "pie" into Easy Bake oven. After about 10 minutes under a 60 watt bulb, voila, pizza.

We just moved in. What did we know? We were surrounded by boxes and paint buckets and tools. Any pizza would be delicious that night. Well, almost any. Georgio's let us down. We ordered the "Neopolitan-style" which, according to a posted Trib review, had a thin-crust (warning: good pizza shops have no "styles" of pie). If by thin the author means Ethel Merman's upper arms, than the reviewer was right on the dough. The crust was chewy, undercooked and the sauce was...was...what was that taste? Anise? If this is your only option, search for a lightbulb and call Mom....

Pizza Vesuvio

1417 E. Carson St.

(412) 481-3888

Now this pie has potential. Very wide, New York by-the-slice style (read: Ray's) with a not-too-heavy handed slathering of not-too-sweet sauce with not-too-much basil. Not being a By-The-Slice Gal (BTSG) unless the clock strikes 2 (a.m.) and I am half in the bag, Vesuvio's was nonetheless impressive. Leaving this pie in the oven for, say, 5 to 10 minutes longer might inspire Pittsburgh Dish to put Vesuvio's on speed dial. Until then, the menu remains on the fridge.

Legend's North Shore

500 E. North Ave.

(412) 321-8000

This is destination pie. Legends is worthy of getting off the couch, putting on last night's clothes and driving at warp speed. Despite the BYOB rule (not so bad, really if you know beforehand. Thanks C & C) and the slightly annoying Betty Boop Doo Wop vibe, Legends is superior. Thin, slightly well done crust, slightly sweet sauce and a thin layer of cheese that creates the perfect level of grease. Pittsburgh's a large metropolis (by New Haven standards) and we have a lot of pizza to test; but Legends is a keeper. Try the musssels appetizer. Wonderful.

May 14, 2005 in Food/Restaurant reviews, Pizza | Permalink | Comments (0)