Showing posts with label 00: Tomato Pie Defined. Show all posts
Showing posts with label 00: Tomato Pie Defined. Show all posts

Wednesday, December 18, 2013

Ranking the Philly Style Tomato Pies

The Internet is awash in pizza rankings. Some are expert, some are clumsy, some are downright pointless. Here we attempt, instead, to offer some guide to the best Philly Style Tomato Pies.

First, we have to define tomato pie. We've done so extensively HERE. For this ranking, we are talking about the Philadelphia/Conshohocken style of tomato pie, which is a big rectangle with a thick airy crust (much like a Sicilian pizza), a signature tomato sauce, and little or no cheese. These are found in a bakery as often as in a pizzeria, and are frequently enjoyed at room temperature. Hence, this comparison does not include the Trenton tomato pie or the New Haven version.

Note: I've dubbed it Philly/Conshohocken style, but this thick-crust scant-cheese room-temp bakery-sourced pie is also common in other parts of the northeast.

Let's meet the contenders (click on any one for the full review) :



Of course, there are many other tomato pies in the Philly region. I did get to sample some at the South Philly Pizza Olympics, but I didn't gather enough info to fully and fairly evaluate the pies from Aversa, Cacia, and Santucci's.

Now, before the judgement, some disclaimers. My heartfelt pizza love is for the Trenton/New Haven tomato pie, then thin-crust bar pie, then Neapolitan and New York style. The Philly tomato pies and Sicilian pizzas rank considerably behind those (but still ahead of Chicago style pizza casserole). That helps explain why I haven't sampled the dozens of other tomato pie purveyors in the Delaware Valley. If you know a great one, please post it in the comments.

Because the crust is thick, puffy, and often lacking the flavor and character of a great Trenton or Neapolitan pie, and further because it typically has little or no cheese, a Philly tomato pie can best be evaluated on the strength of the tomato sauce.
Tony Roni's

Coming in at Number Three is Tony Roni's. In our review we noted that, of all the "tomato pie I've eaten, this was the first one that sold me on the room temperature approach." Notably, even though finishing third in this mini-contest, Tony Roni's wins the Philly region prize - read on to see why.
L&B Spumoni Gardens

Our Number Two finisher is L&B Spumoni Gardens, near Coney Island in Brooklyn. Famous to New Yorkers and to pizza congnoscenti everywhere, L&B is not known by Philly area residents, and it certainly doesn't call its product "tomato pie." It's known as "square" or "Sicilian" or both. I could not detect, on my visits there, the cheese alleged to be under the sauce. Whatever you call it, it is the only tomato pie I've tasted where the crust could be the star. "Ethereal" is not hyperbole for this thick, part airy and part dense crust. It took me several visits to fully appreciate it - but I finally understand what makes L&B a legendary pizza stop.
La Sicilia

Number One is La Sicilia, in Belleville, NJ. On my visit, I rated the sauce a perfect 10. I can't do better than to repeat what I wrote after my visit: 
"The tomato sauce, which is mostly chunks, was as delicious as any I can remember. Such balance, such vibrant flavors! This is not a pizza or a granma pie; it is a tomato pie and a wonderful one. The crust was simply a palette, and a crisply durable one, to convey this awesome red tomato topping. I sat in a lot of crappy traffic to get this pie and I'm VERY glad I did. Usually, tomato pie is improved by the addition of some cheese, but this time I preferred the slices that had none."
On balance, even though many revere the Philly style tomato pie, there's plenty of room for improvement. Baked in a pan, the pie begins at a disadvantage, but that shouldn't mean that the crust has little character. Dom DiMarco makes a fabulous square pie in a pan at Brooklyn's DiFara (well, sure, he uses a pint of olive oil for each pie). 
Square pie at Di Fara

Too often, the tomato pie crust lacks flavor and texture, tasting as though it had come from a supermarket. Imagine an L&B crust with that La Sicilia sauce!  Still, is the thick crust too much to overcome? Could it ever deliver the satisfying snap of an al taglio Roman slice? Share your thoughts!
Roman pizza

Wednesday, February 6, 2013

Defining the Tomato Pie


I grew up in a small town in South Jersey.  My dad, a World War II veteran, had been introduced to pizza in Trenton – probably in the 1940s – and he called it “tomato pie.”  So beginning in my youth and continuing until quite recently, I regarded “pizza” and “tomato pie” as synonyms.  Crust, sauce, cheese.  Toppings, optional.
Tomato pie, DeLorenzo's of Trenton. Click any pic to enlarge!

But during the 1980s on a visit to Denver, I made a phone call to order bar pizza from the superb Bonnie Brae Tavern. I asked for a “large pie.”  After a long silence, the puzzled order-taker replied “we don’t have pies here, just pizza.”  I tried to clarify, not by saying “tomato pie” but “pizza pie” and that only helped a little. I learned that “pie” is not universal for pizza.
Pizza in Tuscany - has some overlap with Trenton tomato pie!

Some opening facts that we’ll explore:
  • Pizza and tomato pie are not always synonyms
  • Tomato pie has a very specific meaning in Trenton, with some possible overlap in New Haven
  • Tomato pie has a very specific meaning in Philly’s western burbs, and it is different than the Trenton version
  • Tomato pie has one more meaning, in the South and Midwest, and it’s not even pizza-like


The Southern Tomato Pie

If you Google "tomato pie" you will find Paula Deen's recipe for one. But the only thing it shares in common with Conshy and Trenton is that it contains dough, cheese, and tomatoes.  
Southern "tomato pie"

It is tomatoes, basil, mayonnaise, and cheese, baked in a pastry pie shell. I've never had it. Sound pretty good, but it surely is not pizza.

The Conshy Tomato Pie

I lived in or near Jersey for many years, and when I moved to West Chester, PA (45 minutes west of Philly) a few years ago, I discovered another type of tomato pie. A thoughtful co-worker stopped at the Conshy Bakery (short for Conshohocken Italian Bakery) and brought in their signature tomato pie. The Conshy tomato pie is rectangular, pan baked, with sauce, but with just a sprinkle of cheese post-bake.
Conshy-style tomato pie

The easiest way to describe it would be a Sicilian pizza without the cheese. I love it, but I usually feel that I want to add cheese. It took a trip to Italy, eating some related-but-not-identical rectangle slices of Roman pizza, for me to gain an appreciation for cheeseless pie. Bottom line, if the crust and sauce are SO good, the cheese can be a distraction.
An appealing square from Tony Roni's

The “Famous Conshy Bakery Tomato Pie” is “An 18"x 25" sheet of dough with a homemade tomato sauce spread generously on top and baked. Cheese, garlic powder, and oil are added after baking." It's typically eaten at room temperature, but I like to heat it up to get a crisp bottom.
Make sure to click and enlarge this brilliant slice from L&B Spumoni Gardens

Other Conshy-style tomato pies include the Philly region mini-chain Tony Roni's (reviewed HERE), Corropolese in Norristown (reviewed HERE), Santucci's, Aversa Bakery, and Cacia's Bakery (reviewed HERE), the square slice at L&B Spumoni Gardens (reviewed HERE) even though they don't call it a tomato pie, and even the square slices from New York's Brick Oven Pizza 33 (reviewed HERE). 
Squares from Manhattan's Brick Oven Pizza 33

The prettiest tomato pie ever, in Rome
These are all good or great, but their Roman cousin is tops for a rectangular pizza product without the cheese (review of Forno Marco Roscioli HERE).

The Trenton Tomato Pie

The Trenton version of tomato pie has cheese, and most folks would view the round pie as a pizza. But it does have important characteristics that make it different from Neapolitan pies, the New York slice, and other legendary pizzas like Totonno's of Coney Island. I've watched it made at DeLorenzo's (Hudson St., Trenton, before they moved to Robbinsville NJ) and the assembly is reversed from pizza -- the cheese (conventional shredded aged mozzarella) goes on before the "sauce" which is mostly crushed tomato.
More great pie from DeLorenzo's

The "upside-down" pizza. It's not tomato pie
Other pizzamakers in the Philly area make "upside down" pizza where the sauce is on top, but those have a blanket of conventional sauce that completely obscures the cheese and prevents browning. We tried one at Marzano's in Exton, PA, reviewed HERE; not bad, but not tomato pie. And despite earning kudos from Philadelphia Magazine for its great sauce, Marzano's is now closed.

The best-made tomato pies deliver up a mouthful of tomato in one bite, and some properly browned cheese in another.
Lining up for tomato pie before DeLorenzo's closed the doors for good

DeLorenzo's Hudson Street (closed in January 2012, but lives on in suburban Yardley and Robbinsville; reviewed HERE) is my favorite "pizza" of all time. Tomato Pie purists would cringe at the pizza term for a DeLorenzo's tomato pie. There is a Facebook group devoted to Trenton tomato pie, and the members feel pretty strongly that tomato pie and pizza are very different.
Pepperoni tomato pie from Papa's in Trenton

Very close in quality to DeLorenzo's is the superb Papa's Tomato Pies (reviewed HERE). Note: Papa’s has also relocated to Robbinsville and is as good as ever. Papa's should be just as much a nationally revered institution as Lombardi's, Grimaldi's, and DiFara. The "other DeLorenzo's" (the owners are related, but not affiliated and their product is pizza, not tomato pie) also left Trenton for suburban Hamilton.

What makes Trenton tomato pie so special? A Trenton pie features a thin and sturdy crust. Crackly outside, but not cracker-like. There is some chew and hole structure. It is never wet! You would never discard the cornicione (pizza bones) on a tomato pie. A Trenton pie is defined by the base, not the toppings. There is no "buffalo chicken tomato pie."

On a Trenton pie, the cheese is a role player (unlike the soupy puddles of buffalo mozz that float on too many Neapolitan efforts). Crust first, tomato chunks (not sauce), then cheese, in that order of importance. It is the perfect canvas on which to drop some chunks of genuine Italian sausage or slices of pepperoni. Other toppings can work -- garlic, onion, mushrooms, anchovies -- but it surely would be a crime against nature to order a tomato pie "with the works."
Close-up of the art of the crust, at Frank Pepe's in New Haven

A related delight is the New Haven tomato pie, also called "apizza." I've visited Frank Pepe's (reviewed HERE) which calls itself Neapolitan, but it clearly is not. Neapolitan pie has a wonderful crust, but a soft puffy crust. Frank's is delightfully crispy, yet with stellar hole structure and internal al dente chewiness. You could sell it in Trenton, call it tomato pie, and get no argument. For me, tomato pie is always better than Neapolitan.
"Apizza" from Modern Apizza, New Haven

Apizza in Florida at Nick's

I also loved New Haven's Sally's Apizza (reviewed HERE), the second-most famous pie in New Haven, and it is magnificent, Modern Apizza (reviewed HERE) has a crust that is softer than Pepe's and I would not call it tomato pie. It was terrific, but it was eclipsed by Pepe's, Sally's, and Nick's New Haven Style Pizzeria in Boca Raton, FL (reviewed HERE).

Conclusions

More so than any other American pizza I've tried, a Trenton tomato pie is balanced, nuanced. Pizzaioli ruin otherwise fine pizzas by the notion that more is better.  "Cheese is good; more cheese!  I love their sauce, more please!"  But that tactic backfires with pizza. When the cheese or sauce is applied in excess, the crust suffers, the yin strains its yang, the feng cannot shui, the tip droops, and mother nature cries. You don't need to fold your tomato pie slice to keep the toppings on as you eat it. In fact, if you can fold it, something is wrong.
THIS never happens with a tomato pie. Yuck.

The Trenton tomato pie is, for me, the pinnacle in the pizza family. Each bite delivers a hearty crunch, then a satisfying chew, bright, tangy, concentrated tomato flavor, with the adhesion of nicely browned cheese. No cheese is sliding off in gloopy clumps, you can hold a slice in one hand, and all the flavors and textures are in harmony.

I'm glad for the current wild popularity of Neapolitan pizza, because it celebrates great ingredients and technique. But if the best pie you've had is Neapolitan, you need to make a trip to Trenton or Robbinsville. You can have destination pizza without the wet center.