Review: Sauce, Phoenix AZ (update)

Some months ago, a colleague was surprised to find a tasty breakfast pizza in an airport restaurant. He was thoughtful enough to take some pics and write a guest review.  Click HERE to read David's take on Sauce in Phoenix's Sky Harbor Airport (Terminal Four, before you pass through the security checkpoint).

The breakfast pie from David's review. Click any pic to enlarge.

Now, on my way home from Phoenix (where I had the wonderful hybrid Neapolitan pie at Pane Bianco - review HERE), I had the opportunity to follow up on his tip when I reached Terminal Four around 1:00 pm.

Sauce has an attractive modern look. Behind the counter, I could see directly into the wood-fired oven.  I figured these pies might cook pretty rapidly, but the friendly counterman told me about 10 minutes to wait for a take-out pie. 

Sausage and caramelized onion pizza

I ignored his advice to a previous customer, when he recommended the "Chicken Caesar Salad" pizza as his favorite. Sauce sells the breakfast pizza that David described only until 10:00 am, so I couldn't repeat that experience. I debated the pepperoni pie vs. the sausage with caramelized onions, and opted for the latter. I saw menu options for a thin crust or "regular" crust, but I never voiced a choice and I'm not sure which crust was used for my pizza. It was $9.75 before tax.

The crust from the bottom view

The pie arrived on time. I didn't know much time I would need later to pass through security, so I decided to down just one slice here and take the rest to the gate area. This was a large personal pie, probably 12" across. 

A close up look at a slice

The puffy cornicione gave an initial impression of a Neapolitan style pie, but the crust was thin, mostly crisp, somewhat crackerlike, and held lovely crumbly air pockets at the edge. It was a bit too thin to support the modest toppings without using two hands. It falls somewhere between a bar pie and a classic tomato pie, Trenton style.

The crust, cheese, and sauce were richly flavored and well balanced. This pie had a fresh flavor that suggested quality ingredients. I was disappointed that the sausage was comprised of small crumbles -- not nice chunks or even slices. Still, it tasted like real sausage. The caramelized onions held a very strong flavor and dominated the pie. Overall, this salty and tasty pizza was entirely satisfying.

For under $10, this was one of the best airport meals I've had. It's better than any chain pie (except perhaps Bertucci's) and better than 95% of the bland stuff from most mom-n-pop pizza shops. I will give the crust a solid 8, the sauce a 9, the cheese a 7, the sausage a 5, and the onions a 6. This pie comes in overall at 8.25. 

Review: Pane Bianco, Phoenix

A few years before I began this blog, during a business trip to Phoenix I made a point to get out and try the celebrated pizza at Pizzeria Bianco. We waited for three hours on a beautiful warm Phoenix night. We wandered to the adjacent Bar Bianco and ordered glasses of wine. We downed quite a few on the picnic benches outside while we waited.

"Sonny Boy" at Pizzeria Bianco. Click any pic to enlarge

How was the pizza?  In my memory, superb. I think I had the "Sonny Boy" and it was perhaps the first time I had cured meats pizza toppings other than sausage or pepperoni. I loved it, I was glad that I spent the three hours waiting, but it didn't rank above my favorite Trenton pies, such as DeLorenzo's (review HERE).

Sausage pie at DeLorenzo's

With another Phoenix conference looming in April 2013, I began thinking about Pizzeria Bianco again. I wanted to repeat the Bianco experience, and give it a new and full analysis. But because every dinner was arranged for a business purpose, I didn't contemplate another chance to persuade a half-dozen folks to surrender 3+ hours to my pizza obsession.

Exterior at Pane Bianco

Fortune smiled on me, however. Less than 24 hours before my flight to Phoenix, I read a feature story about Chris Bianco, the founder and head pizzaiolo at Pizzeria Bianco.  He's opening a second Pizzeria Bianco in Tuscon.  But in a well-written article on Slice - Seriouseats (link HERE), I learned that he has two other Phoenix restaurants: "Italian" which is a (surprise) Italian trattoria, and Pane Bianco, which opened as a lunch  place for sandwiches, but expanded into dinners. 

The bar at Pane Bianco

Well, I figured, any meal under the direction of Chris Bianco has plenty of promise, so I found the menu online. Indeed, Pane Bianco still offers sandwiches at lunch, but the dinner menu includes a small selection of "Plates" and on our visit, that meant things like lasagna and shepherd's pie with lamb. It also includes four pizzas of Chris Bianco design -- the Margherita, the Marinara, the Rosa, and the Biancoverde.

The pizza oven at Pane Bianco

In that interview with Lance Roberts at Seriouseats, Bianco says:

"...we've already been doing pizza in all the restaurants. I don't want to say it's a best-kept secret, but I know it's all the same pizza dough because my brother Marco makes it all at Pane. So if we're running a two-and-a-half hour wait at Pizzeria Bianco, a lot of times you can get the same pizza at Pane in fifteen minutes."

We had no problem securing a 7:30 reservation on a Wednesday night for our party of six; in fact, the place was very quiet that night. Our waiter (young man with an impressive command of the menu) told us that they are typically much busier.

Specials on the chalk board

The restaurant is situated in a half funky-hipster / half auto-body-shop stretch of Central Ave. It looks like it would be much at home in Denver or Santa Fe.  The inside was hip and casual, and it was easy to get comfortable. Our group took up a table in a private alcove at the rear of the restaurant.

Our private dining alcove

We pondered the appealing "boards" as possible shared appetizers -- grilled vegetables, or meats, or cheeses. The consensus, though, was salads to share as appetizers, and we chose three. There was an inventive fennel with grapefruit mix, one salad that included prosciutto and cherry tomatoes and fresh mozzarella, and another that featured arugula and apples. All very good, especially the one with the mozz, but none were game-changers.

Fennel and grapefruit salad

Only two in our group selected pizza. Two others chose lasagna, and one opted for the shepherd's pie (which would have been my choice, absent the pizza). I've read so much about the Rosa (red onion, Parmesan, rosemary, Arizona pistachios) that I had to try it. My colleague ordered the Margherita; it's his base pie for comparison purposes.

Tomato, prosciutto, and mozzarella salad

I didn't try the lasagna or the shepherd's pie, but both looked terrific and my companions polished them off with glee.

The lasagna

My Rosa arrived a stunning beauty, with a golden glow from the cheese, lovely ribbons of purple onion, and studded with browned chunks of pistachio. This is clearly a Neapolitan-style pie, less puffy than most but with characteristic leopard spotting. 

The Rosa

It differs in that the crust is thinner, crisper, and sturdier than a typical Neapolitan. Pieman Bianco also avoids the distressingly wet center that is so common (and, apparently, expected) with authentic Neapolitan pie.

A slice of Rosa

 There is a lot of similarity in how Peter McAndrews at La Porta in Media, PA (review HERE) and Chris & Marco Bianco in Phoenix bring in elements of Trenton pizza to improve a Neapolitan pie. If you can't soon get to Phoenix, you may want to try the Neapolitan hybrid pizza at La Porta.

La Porta's updated Neapolitan

The Rosa was terrific, it was destination pie, but by itself it didn't quite elevate pizzaiolo Chris Bianco in the same league with DiFara's Dom DeMarco. But then, my colleague swapped a slice of the Margherita for a slice of my Rosa. At that point I tasted perfection.  

A slice of Margherita

Minimal tip sag

Harmony and balance are the hallmarks of the best pizzas, and this Margherita pie nailed it. The crust had all the flavor and chew of a Neapolitan pie, but none of the sag or sogginess. Just enough lightly seasoned bright tomato sauce, and a similarly deft touch with the fresh mozzarella. This single slice was the best-executed Margherita pie I've ever had, and it rivalled the masterpiece Neapolitans from New York's Motorino (review HERE) and Forcella (review HERE).

Great char, no sogginess

These brilliant pies were modestly priced, averaging about $13. Pane Bianco is a can't-miss destination for Phoenix dining. This pie is very similar in construct and quality to those at La Porta. 

Some of each

The Margherita is the important pizza here. Let's give the crust a 9, the sauce a 9, the cheese an 8, and the balance a perfect 10. For me, this pie sets the standard for the Neapolitan genre.  Overall, 9.33. Add in the hipster vibe and great service, this was an astonishing bargain that required no hassle. Get there!

Pizza Happiness

Review: Tacconelli's Pizzeria, Philadelphia

Destination pizza. This blog's purpose is finding destination pizza - a pie that is worth not only the calories consumed, but the time and effort to get it.

Legendary pizza. Some destination pizza joints are elevated to legendary status, having been around a long time (usually) and serving outstanding pizza. Lombardi's in New York, Frank Pepe's in New Haven (review HERE), DeLorenzo's Tomato Pies (review HERE) in Trenton/Robbinsville. The much newer Pizzeria Bianco in Phoenix may be on its way to legendary status.

Frank Pepe's, New Haven. Click any pic to enlarge!

When pizza geeks talk about pizza in Philadelphia, once a second-tier city for pie, Tacconelli's is often mentioned in the most reverent tones, and it is frequently compared to Trenton's DeLorenzo's for it's thin crust and emphasis on the tomato over the cheese. It's tomato pie, not quite synonymous with "pizza." I've wanted to try Tacconelli's for a long time, but never got there for a variety of reasons.

It's not in center city near major attractions, nor in South Philly near the stadiums. If you go to Tacconelli's in the Port Richmond working-class community, you are probably making a trip solely for the pizza. 

Some years back, I was a frequent visitor to nearby Bridesburg and on one Saturday I phoned Tacconelli's to order a pie for takeout. I was greeted with "Did you order your dough yesterday?"

What?

"You need to order your dough the day before, we only make a set amount of pies each day."

This proved to be a sufficient hurdle that I never got my Tacconelli's pizza (other than a trip to a South Jersey Tacconelli's operated by a brother, where I found very good pizza and no need to pre-order the dough). Most pizza reviewers say that the Jersey pie is fine, but the original in Port Richmond is the holy grail. 

A peek into the kitchen

Tacconelli's has a 20' by 20' brick oven fueled by an oil burner, but it's a one-man, one oven operation. That aspect drives the need to reserve the dough (although that rule has been relaxed a little). I had expected Tacconelli's to be a small place inside, like DiFara, or medium-small like the former Trenton home of DeLorenzo's, but it was quite large inside, lots of tables and lots of patrons. Hard to imagine that one pizzaiolo can make all that pie.

The rationale for the pre-ordering is that the pizza maker is also the dough man, and he mixes the dough every morning. For more details and the consummate guide to the pizza scene in Philly, you should read Drew Lazor's 2010 article "Waiting for Good Dough" HERE. 

My lunch at La Porta

My visit to Tacconelli's for dinner was preceded by pizza lunch at Media's La Porta (review HERE), the best pizza in Philly's western suburbs. There, I had enjoyed a brilliant hybrid (Trenton/Naples) pie with sausage, bacon, caramelized onions, and broccoli rabe. Great day for baseball; let's play two!

Pizza, beer, and wine = happiness

My long-overdue journey to Tacconelli's occurred fortuitously; my wife's colleagues in Philly arranged a group outing on a Friday evening, and she wrangled an invite for me. Each person chipped in 20 bucks, folks brought bottles of wine and some European beers, and we gathered at 6pm in a large table near the back. 

Pizza and adult beverages in place

Much like many businesses in Philly neighborhoods, Tacconelli's looks like a converted row home. That is why I was shocked to see how big it is inside. There was a major 7-month renovation in 1992, and perhaps they expanded the footprint then.

On the Tacconelli website, I learned that: 

"In 1918 Giovanni Tacconelli came to Philadelphia from Italy. After a few years working as a laborer, he decided to do what he had done in his native Italy: "Bake bread." So along with a few of his friends, he built his 20' by 20' brick oven. In 1946, he decided to make tomato pies, consisting of fresh made dough, little cheese, and a lot of sauce cooked in our brick oven to give it a crisp light taste."

We arrived with great anticipation. Somerset Street is a busy narrow boulevard in this part of Philly, but we found street parking without a lot of difficulty. Samantha, my wife's colleague, had made the group arrangements, reserving eight doughs for about ten of us. Given the thin-crust light-cheese approach, and knowing how much DeLorenzo's pizza I can eat in one sitting, that did not seem like too many pies.

Samantha digs in

I was surprised to see some empty tables on a Friday night. I suppose the "reserve your dough" policy discourages walk-ins. For sure, you can't pop in and sit down on a Friday night in DiFara, DeLorenzo's, or Pepe's. The place was pretty well packed by the time we left, though.

The margherita

We ordered four pies to start, targeting a mix of styles. The menu offers a cheeseless tomato pie, a "regular pie" with scant cheese and lots of sauce, a white pie with garlic, and a margherita by which the dry mozzarella on the regular pie is replaced by fresh mozzarella. We chose one white pie, one margherita, one regular with pepperoni, and one regular with sausage and mushrooms (the staff discouraged us from getting more than two toppings on any pie).

Regular with sausage and mushroom

Every pie -- these four and the four we ordered later -- had a beautifully thin and delicate crust that somehow stayed rigid under the weight of the generously applied sauce; at worst, only the first bite was wet or droopy. Beyond its near-perfect texture, the crust had that robust flavor of well-baked Italian bread. 

The white pie

The regular pie and the margherita pie were very close in character; each had a deep application of the sauce, and though the cheese was visible, it was more of a role player, a flavoring agent. It was swimming in the sauce (not buried, thankfully) and hence did not acquire any browning or bubbling except on the white pie.

Side view of the thin crust

Underside; crisp with mild char

DeLorenzo's uses mostly crushed tomatoes on its pies, so does Philly's excellent SLiCE (reviewed HERE), and I often do the same for those I make at home. This tomato pie, however, uses sauce. I found it to be pretty sweet, carrying gentle notes of Italian herbs. I enjoy a sweet sauce, and this one was bright in color and flavor, and absolutely the dominant flavor.

Regular pie with pepperoni

The pepperoni pie was the best of our first four, because the cured meat added a nice dimension and its saltiness played well against the sweet sauce.

Despite the abundance of sauce and other wet toppings, the crust did not become soggy. Perhaps the first bite of a few slices suggested the use of knife and fork. 

Easy to get "no tip sag" on the sauceless white pie

Twyla says, "no tip sag, even veggie loaded"

Bijal demonstrates that tip sag is minimal

The sausage was excellent, but once again I was reminded of the error in putting vegetables on pizza. This pie also was topped with mushrooms. I have no gripe with canned mushrooms on pizzas, but on a pie already drenched with sauce, these added little beyond wet weight and bulk. I suppose folks like to order veggies on pizza thinking they are offsetting its inherent payload of fat and calories. But most vegetable toppings diminish the pie. 

Jerome is digging the spinach-onion pie

The white pie was excellent, but I'm not sure it was pizza or even tomato pie. The garlic is not that awful prepared stuff that comes in a jar with a taste of preservatives, nor (sadly) is it fresh garlic, which could transform this pie to ethereal levels. Instead, it's old-school granulated garlic powder, cooked into the cheese and delivering a nice brown top. This is a cousin to the pizza bianca sold in Rome, which is often just crust, olive oil, salt, and perhaps a sprig of rosemary. The bread is the star.

Roman-style pizza bianca

The second four pies brought all good stuff, but the onions on the spinach and  onion pie were undercooked. Multi-colored peppers showed up on a white pie, and their strong flavors killed the delicate balance and simple beauty of the pie. The spinach was fresh spinach, probably flash sauteed, and it was superb; one of the very few successful veggie toppings this night.

Spinach-prosciutto pie

One well-chosen combo was a regular pie with prosciutto and spinach. Just wonderful flavors that worked well together, even though the moisture of the spinach prevented the prosciutto from getting any browned and crisped edges.

Vibrantly red sauce on these pies

I now regret that we didn't get one cheeseless tomato pie, so that I could better evaluate the two headline ingredients -- crust and sauce -- alone. It may have had much in common with the pizza we had at La Montecarlo in Rome (review HERE) and Bar Foscarini in Venice (review HERE) - simple rounds of excellent thin crisp dough, with a thin spread of tomato sauce and perhaps some garlic.

La Montecarlo, Rome

Underside of the La Montecarlo. Simple and brilliant

Pizza from Bar Foscarini, Venice

So where does Tacconelli's stand in relation to the legends? This crust was superb, I have to use the term "classic." I very much enjoyed the sweet sauce, but not as much as the tomatoes at DeLorenzo's and DiFara, and I found it was applied much more thickly than I would prefer. The meat toppings were excellent; the veggie toppings were simply our own bad choices, except the spinach.

Tacconelli's interior, from entry point of view

Interior, from rear of Tacconelli's facing the front entry

At Tacconelli's, you can get pizza with no cheese, pizza with almost no cheese, or pizza with cheese only. All terrific choices, but next time I'll ask for (and would love to see on the menu) a pizza with about half the sauce and double the cheese of the "regular." That would still be a highly-sauced and lightly-cheesed pie. I do wonder, though, do I really need them to repeat the DeLorenzo's and Papa's Tomato Pies experience?

Foreground: Freweini (L) and Ying (R)

L to R: Samantha, Stacie, Carol (praying for more cheese)

This is wonderful tomato pie, clearly destination pie, and worthy of legendary status. It doesn't ring my bell quite like Trenton or New Haven pizza, but I want it in my mix. It's a style of pie that I really haven't had anywhere, even as it has elements of Trenton and Rome. I loved the atmosphere (although I probably would have loved it more before the remodeling). Service was good, and the BYO just adds another dimension.

Twyla is clearly pleased

I'm not sure yet where Tacconelli's will enter into my pizza rankings, but it seems like Top Ten material. There is now a lot of competition in Philly - Osteria, Stella, SLiCE, Zavino, Nomad.  But Tacconelli's - the legend - remains King of the Philly Pizza Scene. 

Ying contemplates one more slice