Review: Pizzeria Vetri, Philadelphia

A Monday excursion to the relocated Barnes Foundation Museum in Philadelphia offered an opportunity to get some pizza for lunch, and specifically Roman pizza. 

A better Neapoliltan at Vetri

I've been hankering for Roman pizza since a 2012 visit to Rome, where the al taglio (by the slice) square pie was astonishing; our full review of Rome's Forno Marco Roscioli can be found HERE. 

Al taglio in Rome

We opted for Pizzeria Vetri and headed out to their 20th Street and Callowhill location, because it promised both Neapolitan and Roman style rectangular slices. Pizzeria Vetri sits directly behind the Barnes Museum, in a row of brand-new shops and apartments on Callowhill Street. 

Wood-fired oven at Pizzeria Vetri

Marc Vetri operates several Philly restaurants, including Osteria, where I had my first wonderful Neapolitan pie (and where we spent $100 for appetizers, drinks, and pizza for two). Trained in Bergamo, Italy, Vetri is among the elite "star" chefs in Philly, along with Jose Garces and Stephen Starr.

Great beer list

Osteria is big, grand, elegant. Pizzeria Vetri, by design, is small, homey, casual. There is a curved counter that faces the large wood-fired oven, and a handful of community tables. It was pretty quiet around our 1:45pm arrival, but Vetri wants the place to be loud and energetic.

The menu - click to enlarge

The menu offered several Neapolitan pies, and two different daily al taglio slices - one meat, one vegetable topped. From the Neapolitan pies, we chose the $12 Marinara (crushed San Marzano tomatoes and garlic), the $18 Crudo (bufala mozzarella, parmigiano, and prosciutto), and the $12 Renato (white pie with mozzarella, rosemary, olive oil, sea salt). We also began by splitting an al taglio square with sopressata and fresh basil. That was a huge order, but we planned to take some home.

The al taglio slice, a huge square, arrived quickly. It was made with a thicker crust than the slices I had in Rome, and it sported four eye-pleasing cuts of sopressata riding on top - applied post-bake - along with small delicate leaves of fresh basil. We cut it in half to share.

Underside of the al taglio

The medium-thick crust was delightfully light and airy, in a perfectly moist-but-not-wet way. This made it different and miles better than the light and airy crusts of Philly/Conshohocken region tomato pies (defined HERE). The immediate comparison is the legendary squares at Brooklyn's L&B Spumoni Gardens (review and pics HERE)  - but this slice leaves L&B in the dust.

Square slices at L&B Spumoni Gardens

Beyond its perfect crust with a crisp golden bottom, this slice offered richly complex flavors. The sauce and cheese - deftly applied in a minimalist fashion - seemed to meld with the crust, creating that magic where each bite delivers the al dente feel of the crust, the tang of the tomato, and the salty savoriness of the cheese. The thinly sliced sopressata was the ideal capper, and the small basil leaves added just one more dimension to this essentially perfect slice. This one slice is $6 and yet a great value. 

The Marinara

Tough act to follow as our Neapolitans arrived next! I began with a slice of the Marinara. Vetri's Neapolitan pie has a dough modification that makes it a little heavier and chewier - and both qualities are improvements. If there is a beef with typical Neapolitan pies, it is that the thin, light, and puffy crust is delicious on its own but quickly becomes waterlogged mush under the weight and moisture of tomato sauce and heavy, wet, fresh mozzarella cheese. None of that issue here.

Under the Neapolitan

This Marinara pie had a substantial layer of crushed tomatoes, but the crust did not deteriorate. On this pie, the crust certainly flopped, but it did not require knife and fork. Overall, the crust was magnificent in flavor and texture, and the sauce was especially fresh and vibrant. The garlic was most welcome, but somehow tame. It could stand thicker slices of garlic and a few more. In the world of cheeseless pies, it beats all the Philly-style tomato pies, and stands at the top with Tacconelli's (also Philly, full review HERE) and the aforementioned al taglio slices in Rome at Forno Marco Roscioli.

Renato

Next, I tried a slice of the Renato. On this white pie, despite a substantial topping of cheese and olive oil, the crust was even better. Much like the Marinara, part of its success was its simplicity. Top-grade mozzarella, seasoned with rosemary, salt, and olive oil, riding on that magical crust. 

Crudo

The final pie was the Crudo. It was also a sauceless white pie, with parmigiano and bufala mozz. The prosciutto crudo was applied post-bake, and the heat of the pie turned it to glorious translucent flags of flavor. The bufala was applied in uneven chunks, taking on the appearance (but not the bland flavor) of ricotta. This pie, $18 compared to the $12 for the other two, quickly justified its premium price. The parmigiano added depth, richness, and saltiness that complemented the creamy bufala mozz, and the cured ham was tender and bursting with its own savory essence.

How about that hole structure? Great crust bubble!

We ate a lot of these wonderful pies, but did manage to take home more slices than would make a whole pie. That evening, we re-heated several slices (following the directions Vetri provides 4-7 minutes at 400 degrees). It's been my opinion that Neapolitan pizza does not travel or re-heat nearly as well as standard American pie, but this pie with this method was 95% as wonderful as when it hit our table in the pizzeria.

Very recently, the Neapolitan pizza at Scuola Vecchia in Florida (full review HERE) astounded me, and made me reconsider my notion that Neapolitans could not stand alongside the top American pizzas. Vetri now helps to make the case. Scuola Vecchia remains the King of Napoli, but Vetri is right there with Pizzeria Bianco, Motorino, Forcella, and Nomad. 

The crust earns a 9.9, the cheese a 9, the sauce a 9.5, the execution a 9.5, the meats a 9.9. Wonderful stuff, clearly destination pie. Great service was a big plus, and I can't wait to get back there.

Review: Napolese, Indianapolis, IN

On recent trips to Bloomington IN and Columbus OH, I gathered evidence that you don't need to be in a noted pizza town (New York, Trenton, San Francisco, New Haven, e.g.) in order to get great pizza. In the Midwest, I had expected little but Pizza Hut and even worse, but I found destination pie at Rubino's outside of Columbus (review HERE), and surprisingly good thin-crust chain pizza at Monical's in Bloomington (review HERE). Rubino's, in fact, landed at #22 in my recent list of my Top 84 Pizzas (story HERE).

Katie and Nathaniel, from Illinois State University

Within the past year, I visited Indianapolis and decided that there was not any pizza worth the calories here. In March of 2014, I had occasion to return and so I revisited my prior research. Once again, I rejected the local favorite Bazbeaux, mostly because pictures of the pies on Urbanspoon looked liked badly undercooked DiGiorno. These pics helped reinforce my sense that the good folks of Indianapolis may not know what good pizza is.

I did find a surprisingly good Neapolitan personal pie at Osteria Pronto, the Italian restaurant location in the JW Marriott.  Definitely worth the calories if you are staying near the Convention Center, but that's not the focus of this review.

A few places showed a bit of promise, and Napolese (3 Indy locations) branded itself as Neapolitan and "artisanal" pizza. Neapolitan has not been my favorite style, but: I've rarely had a bad one; I've never had a mass-sourced one; and, the last one I had was spectacular (Scuola Vecchia, review HERE). Walking distance from my hotel? That sealed it.

Brian, Illinois State

The Napolese downtown location on Meridian Street was in a pleasant district of too many chain restaurants. The building is attractive inside and out. Our large group of nine got a nice long table window, and wonderful service. The group had ordered a variety of salads before I arrived. I sampled a $10 salad that included spinach, smoked chicken, shaved fennel, apple, pancetta, and pumpkin seeds in a cider vinegar dressing, and it was fresh, tasty, and balanced.

Wonderful setting and service at Napolese

The menu offered a variety of fascinating appetizers, including cheeses, cured meats, and cassoulet - but we did not sample these. There are 17 artisanal pizza selections, priced from $10 - $14 each for a large personal size, as well as a "build your own" option. Many creative choices, with toppings such as quail eggs, Brussels sprouts, hog jowl bacon, winter squash, and braised pork belly. I selected the "BLT" pie, with caramelized leeks, taleggio cheese, and the hog jowl bacon. I did not taste the other pies, but all of them looked good.

My BLT pie with hog jowl bacon

Upon arrival at the table, the pies were uniformly beautiful, and the meat toppings were generous. Before I could get a taste of mine, my colleague John (who almost always orders the Margherita) lifted a slice and the cheese promptly slid off. Not a good omen.

Toppings too wet, too heavy

Many Neapolitan pie makers and pie eaters expect the center to be wet and soupy. I don't accept that - wet bread is ruined bread. It results from the pizzaiolo's inability to balance the toppings to the delicate crust, and/or failure to provide adequate top heat to cook the cheese and sauce to some measure of adherence to the crust base.

Delectable cured meats on top

And, for each pie on the table, that was the experience. Wonderful artisanal toppings riding on a good if not spectacular Neapolitan crust, but generally a failure in technique that might have allowed the crust to meld with the delectable toppings.

Mike's pie

All of us ate about half of each slice with knife and fork, due to the wet, soupy, sloppy center.  The outer edges were delightful, once we had eaten past the soggy part. The hog jowl bacon was wonderful (hey, it was bacon, right?).

John's Margherita

Three years ago, when this blog began, this would have qualified as spectacular destination pie.  But since then, I've eaten a lot of Neapolitan pie. It is always good, sometimes great, and the very last one before this (Scuola Vecchia) was perfect. So in comparison, this was a "B" grade pie.

Renee, Illinois State

The crust was very good. But even had it not been ruined by the sloppy center, it lacked the fully satisfying flavor of the best Neapolitans.  The cheese and tomato sauce were good, but not standouts. And, as often found, there was too much cheese. The meat toppings were exemplary, and they well represented America's heartland expertise with meats.

Good bottom heat, inadequate top heat

At the end of the day, this pizza merits a "good swing" rating. Good-to-great ingredients, wonderful service, delightful setting, but failed execution in the oven. It still may be the best pizza in Indianapolis, but it falls short of being destination pie.

Review: Scuola Vecchia Pizza e Vino, Delray Beach, FL

Writing about pizza for three years, I've developed plenty of preferences (some might call them biases) and I find also that I lean heavily on certain phrases.

I use the term "old school" to refer to pizza as it was made 50 years ago in the Northeast - Philly, Trenton, New York, New Haven - before the advent of chain pizza.  It was hand made, with a thin and crisp crust, and topped simply with canned tomatoes or tomato sauce and cheese.

Sneak preview of Scuola Vecchia's Salsiccia pie

In writing this pizza blog, I've confirmed my love of "old school" thin crust pizza over any other style - floppy foldable stuff, deep-dish, all the forgettable chain stuff, and even the roundly beloved authentic Neapolitan pizzas, with their puffy leopard-spotted crusts and fresh mozzarella cheese.

Six weeks ago, I compiled a list of "84 Pizzas Worth the Calories" (read that full list HERE). The highest-ranked Neapolitan pizza came in at number 17.

I note all this as prelude because in Delray Beach, Florida, there is a pizza joint called Scuola Vecchia. That is Italian for "old school" to reflect the authentic Neapolitan pizzas rendered there. And it has confounded my biases.

The wood fired oven

Delray Beach is adjacent to Boca Raton, and in previous visits I had shattered another false belief - that one would never find good pizza in Florida. In Boca, I've had superb New Haven style apizza at Nick's (full review HERE), amazing coal-fired pie at Anthony's (review HERE), and a faithfully rendered Neapolitan at Tucci's (review HERE). Google keeps pointing me to other area pies to try, and Scuola Vecchia came up next.

Owner Sharon Aloisio with Pizza Quixote

Scuola Vecchia has some pizza royalty heritage. Owners Sharon and Shaun Aloisio were trained by Robert Caporuscio, raised in Italy about an hour from Naples. He's the force behind the highly-regarded Keste and Don Antonio pizzerias, both in Manhattan.

We went on a cool Friday night, and I was prepared for a long wait, but we were seated immediately. The interior is cozy in its clean white-tiled look, but the lack of soft surfaces anywhere made it quite loud. The menu has an extensive list of appetizers, a short list of pastas, a good selection of big salads, and of course the pizzas. 

Terrific service from this gentleman

There is a "build your own" option, but we made our choices from the long lists of 13 red pies and 9 white pies (all personal sized). The Caporuscio connection can be seen in the menu - there is a "Keste" red pie among the choices. Our server was superb - polite, professional, and possessing knowledge about both the pizzas and the wines. For our party of three, we chose:

• The $13 red Padrino with caciocavallo cheese, tomato sauce, hot soppressata, gaeta olives, EVOO, and basil (caciocavallo has a flavor like aged provolone);
• The $13 red Salsiccia with fresh mozz, crumbled sausage, tomato sauce, and EVOO;
• The $17 white Delray with truffle spread, fresh mozz, mushroom, and then prosciutto di parma added post-bake

We began with salads; my $8 "Toscana" with spring mix, walnuts, lemon, EVOO, and pear was delicious and fresh, but difficult to eat because it was piled high and deep on a stylish but under-sized square plate. We had targeted a $38 bottle of conventional 2011 Chianti, but our waiter persuaded us to invest an extra $9 for the 2007 Chianti Classico, and I'm glad we chose the upgrade. Eating here is not cheap, unless you just get a basic pie (the Marinara pizza is only $7) and drink water with it.

Padrino

Padrino

The Padrino arrived first. The crust was ideal in both appearance and texture. The caciocavallo cheese was perfect in its deep rich flavor, golden yellow color, and chewy baked texture. The olives were authentically tangy and perfectly salty. The soppresata was very hot, but this just made the rest of the pie sing even more loudly.

Masterpiece, top and bottom

The crust was so good - flavor and texture - that it could stand alone as a meal. Truly, this pizza was perfect. There was no soupy puddle as found in the center of poorly made Neapolitan pies. It was flawless, each bite was a revelation as the flavors and textures played off each other. Easily the best Neapolitan pie I've ever had; more later on comparing this to other pizzas.

The Delray

The Delray

The Delray was a close second; once again the pizzaiolo had expertly matched the flavors on this pie. For sure, I will not attempt "build your own" when I return; this kitchen knows what combos work. The truffle spread and fresh mushrooms gave rich and earthy undertones, and the prosciutto on top added a smoky and salty dimension. Another magical pie; the only change I would make is to cut the prosciutto into smaller, bite-size pieces.

Salsiccia

Salsiccia

The Salsiccia? At any other pizza place, it would be a shining star and easily qualify as "destination pizza." It was, like the other two, perfect in texture and flavors. Sausage pie is my go-to choice, and I usually regret when I stray. But here, it finished third. It was merely wonderful, while the first two were other-worldly. As always, I prefer big chunks of sausage, and that would be one potential improvement for this pie.

Slices

The red sauce was identical on both pies, and on each it served as a role player, a piece in the puzzle. The sauce alone was not memorable, but I think it was essential to the gestalt of these pies.

Somehow after this feast we managed to have desserts (flourless chocolate cake and hazelnut gelato). These were very good, but afterthoughts in relation to the pies.

Both of my dining companions felt that this is the best pizza they've ever had. I can say without hesitation that it's the best Neapolitan I've had, beating Pizzeria Bianco (AZ), 2Amy's (DC) Motorino, Forcella, and Roberta's (NYC), as well as Zavino, Stella, and Osteria (all Philly). Click on links for full review.

Because I have long held such a strong prejudice for thin-crusted crisp and rigid "old school" pizza, I struggle to know where this perfect Neapolitan will stand when I next construct my ranking. It is certainly going to challenge for a top spot. I'd love to eat this Neapolitan pie side-by-side with a Trenton tomato pie.

With pizza this wonderful, rating and ranking is almost pointless. Still, the crust earns a 10, the cheese a 10, the sauce an 8, the salumi a 9.5, the truffles and mushrooms a 10, the sausage a 7.  Service was a 10, ambiance was a noisy 8.  Overall, essentially perfect pizza. It's the 10 of Neapolitan pies. Bravissimo!

Review: Joe & Pat's Pizza, Staten Island NY

One of the most basic ways to distinguish pizzas is by the crust. Thin or thick, soft or rigid, soggy or chewy? I can enjoy all types (except wet and soggy), but I surely have a preference for thin, crisp, rigid pie. Such pizza delivers a satisfying al dente crunch while serving as the ideal base for the sauce and cheese.

A thin crisp slice at Joe and Pat's

Foremost among my thin-crust favorites have been Tacconelli's in Philadelphia, Trenton tomato pies like DeLorenzo's and Papa's, and two Staten Island stalwarts - Lee's Tavern and Denino's. (Click on any of these for full review and pics).

On a Saturday afternoon during the endless winter of 2014, we made a stop at another Staten Island pizzeria of high repute - Joe and Pat's on Victory Boulevard. They have been in business since 1960. Even with a recent interior renovation, the inside looks like a pizza parlor. However, there is an extensive menu of soups, salads, pasta, seafood, and Italian entrees. I'd love to sample some of it - but this trip was just lunch and focused entirely on the pizza.

View from the dining room

Pizzas options include a personal-sized pie, round or Sicilian pies of 14" or 16", a gluten-free pie, and a "Grandma Sicilian."  Our waitress explained that the Grandma is a thin-crust Sicilian pizza.

Prepping the dough

We ordered a large round pie with pepperoni and a Grandma pie with sausage, and asked for both to be "well-done." Our waitress explained that the Grandma pie takes 20 minutes to cook, and that our round pie would be ready first.

The pepperoni pie arrived covered with curled cups of pepperoni and a golden brown cornicione. The slices were indeed thin and crisp as expected - but there was a generous amount of sauce and cheese too. Enough toppings that it made sense to eat the first bite with knife and fork.

This pie went right up to the edge of too much sauce and cheese, but not over it. And the sauce was delicious, reminding me of a Trenton tomato pie. No hint of it being overcooked or overseasoned - just a bright fresh tomato tang. The cheese was shredded conventional mozz, and the ideal role player.

Crust was crisp, browned, crunchy, perfect

The pepperoni was absolute top shelf, curled and crisp and oily. This salty pie succeeded on every level - a crust wonderful in flavor and texture, sauce that sings, and perfect pepperoni. I wolfed down two slices and could have rapidly inhaled two more, but I needed to save room for the grandma pie, which arrived soon after.

The Grandma pie

Here was another pie with a magnificent appearance. This was made with fresh mozzarella (although we could have chosen conventional shredded if we wanted). That white cheese made a lovely palate for more of the same simple and wonderful red sauce and a lot of chopped fresh green basil. 

Like a Sicilian pie, the Grandma pie is baked in a square pan. The crust was excellent at the edges, chewy and crisp. The fresh mozz, sauce, and basil were well matched. The sausage was genuine stuff and high quality, but I was disappointed that it was pre-cooked and sliced, rather than rough chunks that cook on the pie. Tasty still, but not the magic that happens with sausage at places like DeLorenzo's.

Under Grandma's hood

The downside of most rectangular pies is that the inner four slices have no cornicione, and here, they were inexplicably moist. The pie was not overloaded with toppings, but perhaps the fresh mozz gave up moisture that accumulated in the center. Slices of this Grandma pie improved substantially upon a reheat in my oven at home on a perforated pan; that process removed the excess moisture and allowed the slices to become crisp.

The Grandma pie was excellent overall, but the conventional round pie was the star attraction. The term I over-use in this blog is "old-school" but it certainly applies here. This is the way authentic pizza looks and tastes. Joe and Pat's is destination pizza, and the good folks of Staten Island are lucky to have world-class pie without having to wait hours for a table.