pizza

Lying on the outskirts of Rochester's East End, Richmond's is one of those bars that seems to have been, and will be, around forever.
In fact, though, it was closed for much of last year, but reopened in early 2012 under new ownership. As a former habitué of Richmond's myself, I was perusing some web page or other about the "new" Richmond's when I noticed that pizza had been added to the menu. So off I went.
I wasn't sure what to expect, in more ways than one. I had the impression that the current owner was going for something more upscale than Richmond's had been in the past, which was either comfortably worn or downright seedy, depending on your point of view.
Physically, the interior has been given a facelift, though the basic setup remains the same. There's a new tiled bar, and a few more TVs than I remember, but they seemed to have done a good job of preserving the essential neighborhood-tavern feel of the place.
The menu hadn't changed as much as I expected (or feared) either. Richmond's had always had a classic bar-and-grill menu, doing just a few things but, for the most part doing them well. And those basics - wings, burgers, grilled chicken sandwiches - remain the core of the menu, with just a few new additions.
Like pizza. Now I didn't see any pizza ovens, so I can't say I was expecting much from my Margherita pizza, and, well, frankly, my expectations were fulfilled. This clearly used a premade crust, which had a golden-brown surface that was slightly oily to the touch. The underside was marked by concentric circles (just visible on the left of the second photo), which I suppose were created during the manufacturing process. The crust was medium thick, and while not unpleasant, it was not very bready, and it lacked the aroma and lively quality of freshly baked pizza dough.
Aside from the inherent qualities of the crust itself, one of the problems with premade crusts is that the toppings tend to simply lie on top of it, whereas a pizza made with fresh dough typically displays a better integration of the crust and the toppings. Because the toppings are applied to the unbaked dough, the sauce and cheese tend to fuse a bit with the top surface of the crust, so the finished pizza emerges from the oven as an integrated whole, not just an assemblage of disparate components.
Not so here. The mozzarella easily peeled off from the crust, and you can see the result in the third photo.
Appropriately for a Margherita, there was no sauce on this pizza - just the aforementioned cheese, some thick sliced but flavorless "slicing" tomatoes, a dusting of Parmesan or Romano, and a light sprinkling of dried herbs.
On a happier note, my two companions were both quite pleased with their burgers, which did look very good - thick, meaty and juicy, as seen in the bottom photo. I would've happily traded with them, but neither was willing.
Though I am giving this pizza a D+, let me emphasize that I'm rating the pizza, not Richmond's. Again, I think they've done a good job of preserving its essential physical character while giving the interior some much needed TLC, and from this one brief experience, Richmond's still turns out a mean burger. If the wings are as good as they used to be, then all the more reason to go.
But I'd stick with the tried and true basics, foodwise. Richmond's has a lot going for it, but sometimes places try to do more than they're capable of doing well, and this was one example. Given the physical limitations of the space, which as far as I can see preclude a full kitchen, Richmond's culinary future probably lies rooted in its origins:  wings, burgers, and various fried edibles. I'd drop the pizza from the menu, or at the very least drop the price ($9.95), which, with a $2.50 pint of Diet Coke on ice, yielded a pretty hefty lunch bill for what I got. With a good atmosphere, and good bar food, Richmond's should continue to be Rochester's favorite "neighborhood bar without a neighborhood," but I don't think it'll ever be a pizza destination.
Richmond's, 21 Richmond St.
270-8570
11 a.m. - 2 a.m. daily

Rochester has an embarrassment of riches where Italian restaurants are concerned, with everything from old school, "red sauce" places to higher-end establishments that aim to take Italian food to the level of high art.
Mario's on Monroe Avenue falls somewhere in the middle, with items ranging from spaghetti and meatballs to pricier fare like osso bucco and cioppino, with a touch of steakhouse on the menu as well.
And pizza, which is what drew me here on a recent weeknight for dinner. Although it's listed under antipasti on the menu, I made an entree out of Mario's Margherita pizza, which is described as a "crispy thin crust stone oven style, [with] fresh tomatoes [and] fresh buffalo mozzarella."
The thin-to-medium crust was pale on the bottom, with some faint markings that could've been from a grill or other cooking surface. The edge was dry and crunchy, but the rest of the crust was lifeless, with little evidence of yeast activity, and a doughy flavor. I wondered if Mario's uses frozen crusts.
The slices of fresh mozzarella were evenly distributed, spoke-fashion, around the pizza, and were nicely melted, with a smooth, creamy texture. Although not mentioned on the menu, there was also a layer of what appeared to be low-moisture, processed mozzarella underneath. It was rather dry and didn't add a whole lot of flavor or texture.
Between the two layers of cheese were some thick slices of fresh tomato. Unfortunately these were quite bland, contributing little other than color. Some shredded basil, which appeared to have been added after the pizza came out of the often, added some complexity to the overall flavor profile, though most of it had been piled onto one side of the pie.
Overall, this pizza tasted all right, though it was a bit on the bland side. I was glad that I accepted my server's offer of some grated Parmesan.
But the biggest problem was the crust. It just had nothing going for it, in terms of flavor, texture or otherwise. That was disappointing, given the menu's reference to the crust being "stone oven style" (I'm not sure what stone oven "style" means, but it sounded promising.)
It was doubly disappointing because Mario's other food seemed pretty good. I only had a salad, in addition to my pizza, but I couldn't help stealing a few glances at my neighbors' plates, which looked quite appetizing, and for much of my meal I was treated to a wonderful aroma that I'm guessing came from Mario's grilled steaks (I meant to ask my server if she could identify it for me, but I forgot).
So while I would put Mario's on my mental list of places to revisit, I can't recommend it for the pizza alone. If they are using frozen crusts, well, not much you can do to improve those. But if they are using fresh dough, it seems to me it needs to rise a little longer, and be baked at higher temperatures, because this wasn't that great. I'll give it a C-minus.
Mario's Italian Steakhouse and Catering, 2740 Monroe Ave.
Tel.: 271-1111
Winter hours (Nov. 1 - April 30): Mon. - Thu. 5 p.m. - 9:30 p.m., Fri. 5 p.m. - 10:30 p.m., Sat. 4 p.m. - 10:30 p.m., Sun. brunch 10 a.m. - 3 p.m., dinner 4:30 p.m. - 9 p.m.
Summer hours (May 1 - Oct. 31): Mon. - Thu. 5 p.m. - 10 p.m., Fri. 5 p.m. - 11 p.m., Sat. 4 p.m. - 11 p.m., Sun. brunch 10 a.m. - 3 p.m., dinner 4:30 p.m. - 9 p.m.

While pizzerias are easy enough to find, there's plenty of pizza out there at local restaurants, where you wouldn't necessarily expect to find it. One such place is Towpath Cafe in Fairport.
This location was formerly Fairport Village Coffee, and like that establishment, Towpath Cafe features coffee, wine, and live music. But it's added pizza to its menu, which I don't think was offered in its previous incarnation.
The pizza, which is described as "fire grilled," comes in five varieties, which I'll let you read on the Cafe's menu. As I often do, I went with the "Margarita," which is topped with "garlic & oil, tomatoes bruschetta, mozzarella and fresh basil."'
My pizza had a very crisp crust that was on the thin side of medium. The outer edge was crunchy and a bit oily on the surface, with some interior chewiness. The underside bore prominent grill marks.
The menu's use of the term "tomatoes bruschetta" is a fairly apt description. This reminded me of bruschetta, the name of which comes from the Italian "bruscare," which means "to roast over coals," a reference to the bread, which is typically drizzled with olive oil and grilled, and topped with tomatoes, garlic, basil or other toppings. This was topped with finely diced tomato, bits of chopped garlic, and flakes of basil, on a bed of stringy, chewy cheese. I found the overall flavor quite good, with some herbs in the background. The tomatoes weren't fantastic, but they did have some tomatoey sweetness, which puts them ahead of a lot of fresh tomatoes around here at this time of year.
Besides pizza, Towpath Cafe offers burgers, paninis, wraps, and salads. The atmosphere is laid back and casual, kind of a cross between a coffee house and a restaurant, with outdoor seating overlooking the canal in the warm months.
This was decent pizza. It had a pretty good overall flavor, and the crust wasn't bad, with a bit of external crunch and some grilled toastiness. And importantly, it was distinctive. I'll give it a B-minus.
Towpath Cafe, 6 N. Main St., Fairport, 14580
Tel. 377-0410

Mon. - Thu. 8 a.m. - 10 p.m., Fri. & Sat. 8 a.m. - 11 p.m., Sun. 8 a.m. - 5 p.m.

Park Point, the retail / residential development that opened a few years ago at RIT, has several dining choices available, including a full-fledged pizzeria, Paradiso.
But Paradiso is not the only place at Park Point where it's possible for a person to purchase pizza (how's that for alliteration?). Pizza's also on the menu at Lovin' Cup, a restaurant / bar / coffeehouse that features several personal-size pies on its menu. I had lunch there recently.
Though I really dislike cutesey names for dishes, I sucked it up and ordered a "Stroll Around the Moon," which is a Margherita in everything but name.
Before I get to the pizza, I must digress for a moment to say that I've no idea where they came up with the name for this pizza. A lot of menu items at Lovin' Cup - which itself is named after a Rolling Stones song - are taken from popular music, like the "Blue Suede Shoes" pizza and the "White Rabbit" burger (which is not made with rabbit meat, by the way). But googling "Stroll Around the Moon" did not turn up any songs of that name; the closest I got was "Circling Around the Moon" by John Mellencamp, "Walking on the Moon" by the Police, and several variations of  "Ring (or Rings) Around the Moon," by a number of artists.
At any rate, my pizza (which I will henceforth refer to as a Margherita) had a thin-to-medium thick crust, which was a little charred here and there underneath. It was very firm, and quite crunchy along the edge.
This is strictly my subjective impression, but to me there was something about this crust that seemed pre-made. Probably it was that firmness - the slices weren't really supple at all, and though they were a little chewy on the inside, they lacked the fresh-bread aroma and texture that marks what I consider a great pizza crust.
The crust seemed to have been given a light coating of olive oil, atop of which lay finely diced tomatoes, thinly shredded basil, and a layer of melted mozzarella. The menu describes the cheese on this pie as fresh mozzarella - the only pizza here given that "fresh" designation - and it was good cheese, with a smooth, creamy texture, but it was not the bright white fresh mozzarella that's typically applied in sliced rounds. It was beautifully melted but was gooier and spread more uniformly across the pizza than the fresh mozzarella I'm used to seeing. Maybe I just need to learn more about the different kinds of mozzarella.
Overall, this pizza was pretty flavorful, with a certain tanginess and a prominent flavor of basil. I frankly wasn't thrilled with the crust, but my impression was that the pizzas here are more about the toppings than the crust.
Lovin' Cup is a good-sized place, with a large dining area and a full bar, which features a well-chosen, oft-changing selection of microbrews. The rest of the food menu runs toward soups, salads, and hot and cold sandwiches, and there's a wide variety of coffee drinks available. I liked the place; the pizza, well, it had its ups (good cheese, good flavor, albeit a bit heavy on the basil) and downs (stiff, lifeless crust), which kind of cancel each other out, so I'll give it a right-down-the-middle C.
Lovin' Cup Bistro & Brews, 300 Park Point Dr. Suite 101 (at RIT).
Tel.: 292-9940
Hours:  Mon. 11 a.m. - 11 p.m., Tue. & Wed. 11 a.m. - midnight, Thu. - Sat. 11 a.m. - 2 a.m., Sun. noon - 10 p.m.

I'm not sure what or who first alerted me to this, but some time ago I discovered that the Argyle Grill at Eagle Vale golf course has pizza on its menu. So I made a point to go there, and I eventually did, on a lunch date with friends.
I opted for the "Margarita," and one of my friends got a pizza as well - the "Argyle Classic." The menu described the latter as having a thick crust, so I asked if that meant that the Margarita was not thick, but our server informed me that all the pizzas here are made with the same thick crust.
Our pizzas arrived, nicely presented, arranged in two rows of wedges on our plates. The crusts were indeed thick, and were reminiscent of French bread pizza. They had a crunchy exterior and a golden brown underside.
The Margarita (I'll defer to their spelling) was, even apart from the thick crust, nontraditional, topped with roasted tomatoes, pinenuts, balsamic vinegar and oil, greens, and dried basil, as well as a lot of melted mozzarella. It was not my idea of a Margherita, which is usually topped with nothing but fresh mozzarella, tomatoes and basil, but it was tasty and enjoyable, and the flavors worked well together.
My friend's Argyle Classic was topped with tomato sauce, cheese, pepperoni and sausage. There was quite a bit of sauce, though that was appropriate for the thick crust. It tasted fine, though compared with my Margarita it seemed a little uninteresting.
Argyle Grill's other pizza options include a "Chicago Classic" and a Buffalo chicken pizza. I apologize for my failure to jot down the components of a Chicago Classic. But as I mentioned, all the pizzas come on the same, French-bread type crust.
Interestingly, the Glengarry Inn, a more formal restaurant at Eagle Vale that is open for dinner only, also offers pizza, but it sounds like a different sort altogether - the website describes it as "brick oven pizza," and the toppings are different from the Argyle Grill's pizzas. So I'll have to make a trip here some evening if I want to try those.
While these weren't exactly what I'd expected, or necessarily hoped for, they weren't bad. Leaving aside memories of frozen French bread pizza, the crust had a nice crunch, and though it was a bit dry inside, it provided a reasonably good base for the tasty toppings. At the same time, I should mention that my second friend's "Tuscan" panini, which I got a taste of, was very good, and huge to boot. If I return, I'd probably opt for that over the pizza.
This is a hard pizza to rate, as it was rather unlike just about any other pizza I've had around here. That alone gets is some points from me. But this wouldn't be a default option for me, either. I'm going to peg it at just above average, and give it a C+.
Argyle Grill at Eagle Vale, 4344 Nine Mile Point Rd., Fairport. 377-5200
Mon. - Sat. 11 a.m. - 10 p.m., Sun.: noon - 8 p.m. Closed Mondays December through March. Opens at 4 p.m. on Sundays February & March.

Last month or so, Copper Grill opened on Hudson Avenue in the former Irondequoit Ale House space. It joins the list of local bars and restaurants serving pizza. I had lunch there recently.
There are several pizzas on the menu at Copper Grill, plus thirteen additional toppings to choose from if you'd like to create your own. I was torn between a straightforward pepperoni pie and the Margherita. I generally go with the latter at places with a wood-fired oven or that otherwise advertise "artisanal" pizza, but stick with the former at basic, American-style joints. Copper Grill doesn't use a wood-fired pizza or make any particular claims about its pizza, but at the last second I decided to go with a Margherita anyway.
My personal-size pie had a medium thick crust, with a pale, screen-baked bottom. The crust was soft and chewy, right through to the edge.
While some Margheritas use either tomato sauce or fresh tomatoes, this had both. The sauce, which is said to be homemade, was mild tasting and pleasant, but the thick tomato slices were pale and bland. There will come a day, I'm sure, when flavorful fresh tomatoes are widely available and reasonably cheap. But we're not there yet.
The menu describes this pizza as topped with fresh mozzarella cheese, and while I'm not questioning that, this cheese seemed to me almost like a cross between fresh and processed (a/k/a aged or low-moisture) mozzarella. It had some of the soft, almost creamy texture of the fresh variety, but was a little chewier and had a more yellowish tone than I expect from 100% fresh mozzarella. A dusting of grated cheese added some additional flavor.
Basil's another one of those things that varies widely from one Margherita to the next. This one used fresh shredded basil, which looked as if it had been added at or near the end of the baking, as it was still pretty green. That's a good way to go, I think - add it to soon and it just gets dried out and burnt, and the shredding, while it may result in a less visually appealing pie than one with whole leaves, probably releases more aroma.
One unusual addition here was the thin slices of red onion. It's not a common topping on Margheritas, but it wasn't unwelcome, as I generally like onions on my pizza, and the flavor complemented those of the other toppings.
Besides the Margherita, Copper Grill offers pepperoni, Buffalo chicken, and Mediterranean (white) pizza, plus cheese pizza and a variety of toppings. The menu's pretty lengthy, and ranges from standard bar fare like burgers and sandwiches to pasta, steaks, fish and barbeque, as well as desserts. There's a rectangular bar on one side, with seating along the walls and in front, facing Hudson Ave., and TVs all around. The overall atmosphere is casual and a bit generic, but give it some time.
This pizza was not all that bad, as bar/restaurant pizza goes, but I wouldn't call it a classic Margherita, or especially great pizza. The soft crust was the biggest downer for me, and the flavorless tomato slices didn't help. I'd come back here, if I were looking for basic bar food, but I don't think I'd order the pizza again. I'll give this a C-minus.
Copper Grill, 2256 Hudson Ave., Irondequoit 14617. 270-4466
11 a.m. - 2 a.m. daily

About a month ago, Spot Coffee on East Avenue reopened after a six-month-long hiatus during which it was remodeled inside. In addition to the physical changes, Spot also expanded its food menu to include "gourmet" pizza.
I'm never quite sure what to make of that self-aggrandizing "gourmet" label when it's attached to anything, and all too often it's an unintended warning that what you are about to eat is not nearly as good as its description would have you believe. But after recently trying one of Spot's new Margherita pizzas, I am pleased to report that this was not the case here. This was actually quite good.
Like the "gourmet" moniker, the menu's misspelling of the 19th-century Queen of Italy's name as "Margharita" did not fill me with confidence, but my doubts were quickly dispelled when I got my pie. It had a nicely charred crust, thin in the center, encircled by a wide, thick, bready cornicione. There was some exterior crispness along the edge, and the interior of the cornicione was airy but chewy, in a bready kind of way. My fingertips detected just the slightest hint of oil along the edge, but it wasn't at all greasy.
This pie was pretty saucy, topped with a thick sauce in which some dried herbs were visible, although the flavor was more sweet-tomatoey than herbal. I always hate to complain about being given too much of anything, but for me this ran close to an excessive amount of sauce for such a thin crust.
Atop the sauce, the melted fresh mozzarella was just slightly browned, but still soft and stretchy, not rubbery. A smattering of shredded basil added good flavor, and appeared to have been added at the end (as it should be), as it was still green and fresh-tasting.
Spot offers five other pizzas, but no a la carte pies, although I can't imagine why you couldn't get a plain cheese pizza or a pepperoni pizza (which would simply be Spot's "New Yorker" minus the mushrooms). And they've got sandwiches, salads, breakfast selections, baked goods, and of course plenty of coffee drinks.
After some initial uncertainty, then, this pizza was a pleasant surprise. The crust was very good, though a bit short of perfection, and the other components were also very enjoyable, though I thought the generous helping of sauce threw the pie slightly out of balance. Those minor quibbles prevent me from giving this one my highest grade, but this was good enough to rate an A- from me.
Spot Coffee,200 East Avenue Rochester 14604. 613-4600
Mon. - Fri. 6 a.m. - midnight; Sat. 7 a.m. - midnight; Sun. 7 a.m. - 11 p.m

For a long time, there's been some eating or drinking establishment at 250 Monroe Avenue. Most recently, that address was the home of Woody's, and before that there was O'Donahue's, which I vaguely remember. I'm sure there were other proprietors before that, since the place just looks as if it ought to be a bar or a restaurant.
Recently, this address went through another name change - it's now The Brickwood Grill. And that's not all that's changed - there's now pizza on the menu, which led me to pay a visit last week.

It had been some time since I was in this space, but it didn't seem to me to have changed much, physically. Not that there was a lot of reason to change things - it's always been a fairly attractive spot, with a lot of dark wood fixtures that lend a touch of class, although in the past, that effect wasn't always apparent, such as at 1 a.m. when the floor was sticky and the atmosphere redolent of stale beer and testosterone. I don't know what it's like here late on weekend nights these days, but lunchtime saw a mix of patrons, maybe 75% male, most of whom probably work in the neighborhood.
Though the name might lead you to think that the Brickwood uses a wood-fired brick oven, that's not the case. I didn't actually confirm that, but there's no indication on the Brickwood's website or menu that they use a wood-fired oven.
Nor is there any indication from the pizza itself. My 10-inch pie had a very thin and floppy crust, with screen marks on its mostly pale gold bottom. The underside seemed a bit oily to the touch and was not too crisp, except along the edge, where there was a little crackling and some crunch. I also picked up a certain yeasty, fresh-baked aroma, as well as a hard-to-pin down aroma of oil and/or garlic that seemed to come mostly from underneath. The menu describes the dough as "brushed with garlic butter sauce," which likely explains that.
This was a pretty cheesy pizza, with a thick, solid layer of melted mozzarella. Bits of tomato were visible in the sauce, which was moderately applied and had a sweet tomatoey flavor.
The cup and char pepperoni was nice and crisp along the edges, with good flavor. One stray bit of mushroom had found its way onto my pizza, which didn't bother me too much (even though I hate mushrooms), though I would've been more upset if I had a mushroom allergy, which some folks do.
The Brickwood offers 12 pizza toppings, and three specialty pizzas (Margherita, Hawaiian, and Mediterranean). Ordinarily I would've gotten a Margherita, but this one sounded kind of odd - it's topped with sliced tomatoes, basil pesto, baby arugula, and fresh mozzarella, and drizzled with balsamic vinegar. That's somewhat similar to the Margherita I had at Hose 22 last year, which I did enjoy, but unusual enough that I though a basic pepperoni pie would make for a better test of Brickwood's pizza.
The rest of the menu runs mostly toward bar food - burgers and such - with a few more substantial items like chicken parm, ribeye steak and lobster ravioli.
This was not bad pizza by any means, but it wasn't good enough to make the Brickwood Grill a pizza destination either. Again, maybe it was just the name, but I was hoping for something along the lines of a more artisanal-style pizza, and that's not what this was. Seeing the screen marks put me off a bit, and sure enough, the crust was missing the crisp bite to it that I really like in my pizza. It tasted fine, though, and if I were here with some friends and in the mood for pizza I might get it again. I'm also intrigued enough by the description of the Margherita that I will likely be back some time to try it out. As for the pepperoni pizza, I'd say it was pretty average, so I'm giving it a C.
Brickwood Grill, 250 Monroe Avenue, Rochester 14607
Phone:  730-8230 Email: info@brickwoodgrill.com
Mon. - Fri. 11 a.m. - 2 a.m., Sat. & Sun. 4 p.m. - 2 a.m.

There have been several new pizzeria openings around Rochester in the past month or so, which is always exciting news for any pizza lover. One that I was especially eager to try was Ferrara's, which opened on Spencerport Road in the CVS plaza just off Long Pond Road.

The reason for my anticipation is that years ago, there was a Ferrara's pizza on Titus Avenue, across from the House of Guitars. That was the first place I ever got a Margherita pizza, which I'd never even heard of before.

Ferrara's closed quite some time ago. Since then, they spot has been a Pudgie's Pizza, and now is a hair salon or something along those lines.

All these years, and many Margheritas later, I wouldn't say that Ferrara's Margherita was very authentic. The classic Italian Margherita is made with tomatoes, fresh mozzarella, and fresh basil, on a thin crust that's usually been brushed with olive oil. Ideally, it's baked in a wood-fired oven, at least if you really want authenticity, in the sense of coming close to what you'd be apt to find in Italy. (Or so I've read and seen on TV; I've never been to Italy, I'm sorry to say.)

But I didn't know any of that the first time I tried a Margherita from Ferrara's. Maybe ignorance is bliss, but I loved it from the start. It was topped with tomato slices, black and green olives, garlic, and white onions, and it immediately became one of my favorite pizzas. At the time, I lived in the Browncroft neighborhood, some distance from Ferrara's, but I'd regularly make the drive to pick up a Margherita.

So when, some months ago, I saw a listing in the D&C for a Ferrara's Pizza opening on Spencerport Road, I couldn't believe that after all these years it could be the same Ferrara family, but I was hopeful. And what do you know, it is. And they still have the same Margherita on the menu.

At some point I plan to go back for a more in-depth discussion with the owner, but on this, my first visit to the new place, I just spoke to the cashier, who told me that this was indeed the same Ferrara's. And as far as my memory serves, the Margherita was as I remembered it, or at least damn close to it.

The medium-thick crust was well browned and firm underneath, though not quite crisp or crackly. There was a trace of cornmeal visible, but no screen marks.

The interior of the crust was quite nice, rather bready, with large air holes, particularly along the edge. Very enjoyable.

But it was the overall flavor that again won me over. Yes, the olives are canned, and no, the tomato slices aren't as good as what you'd get out of your garden in July, but there's something about this particular combination of toppings that I find irresistable. The pungent saltiness of the olives, the softly sweet onions, with the flavor and aroma of garlic permeating it all, renders this a sheer delight.

Maybe some of this is just nostalgia. Maybe if I were trying this for the first time, I wouldn't be so lavish in my praise. And I know I should try to be objective. But how can you be coldly dispassionate when a long-lost love has returned, after you thought you'd never meet again? So with that caveat to the reader, I have no choice but to give this an A.

Ferrara's Pizza, 485 Spencerport Rd., Gates 14606. 247-6777

Tue. - Thu. 4 p.m. - 9 p.m., Fri. & Sat. 4 p.m. - 11 p.m., Sun. 4 p.m. - 9 p.m. Closed Mondays.

Slowly but surely, pizza seems to be catching on as an addition to bar food menus around town. Some places do it on the cheap, with preformed crusts they simply add toppings to and throw in the oven. But other bars have gone the extra mile, with hand-stretched dough (which may be made off premises) and serious pizza ovens.
Count Hooligans in Webster among the latter group. I ran across a reference to its wood-fired oven some time ago, and decided to check it out.
I noticed, by the way, that the Hooligans in Greece - which I haven't reviewed yet - also serves pizza, but does not have a wood-fired oven. Also, the Greece Hooligans website doesn't even mention the place in Webster. So I'm not sure how much of a connection there is between the two.
I visited the Webster Hooligans on a Monday at lunch time. The place was pretty dead, and I was the only patron when I arrived, although a handful of guys showed up before I left.
Be that as it may, I ordered a Margherita pizza. I thought about getting a basic pepperoni pizza, but Margheritas have become my benchmark for wood-fired pizzas.
Had I noticed it sooner, I would've taken a seat near Hooligans' oven. I had thought this was a Doughpro oven, based on Hooligans' listing on the Doughpro website, but I'm informed that it's not (see the comments below).
At any rate, I sat some distance from the oven, and I was too lazy to move closer, but I did take a look at it on my way out. Somewhat to my surprise, I did not see any wood in the oven. (I say "somewhat" because I didn't smell any wood smoke either, so I wasn't totally surprised.) There was nothing but a gas flame emanating from inside the oven.
Well, I don't get too worked up over the equipment, it's the final product that counts, so I wasn't particularly miffed about that. At least the dough here is hand-stretched - no frozen shells - although my guess is that it's actually made off premises, as few restaurants or bars have the means to prepare large batches of pizza dough. Again, I really should have sat near the oven, so I could've peppered the pizzaiolo with these questions, but I didn't think of them until later, I'm afraid.
But back to the pizza - it arrived hot, with a thin crust that was fairly crisp and well browned underneath, with a few small charred spots. The coating of corn meal on the bottom was a bit of a surprise, as I just haven't seen that much on wood-fired pizzas, but it was not objectionable (and of course, this was not truly a wood-fired pizza). The crust had a decent texture, not exceptionally crisp but with a bit of bite, and some internal breadinesess, particularly in the thin but puffy lip, or cornicione, along the edge.
The pie had an unmistakable aroma of garlic, and visually was dominated by a thin layer of creamy, almost liquid fresh mozzarella. A few shreds of fresh basil added some flavor, and the slices of pale bland tomatoes - which I've unfortunately come to expect around here - provided some color but not much else.
This may not have been the best Margherita I've ever eaten, but it was reasonably good. The pie as a whole wasn't on a par with top-notch wood-fired pizzas, but the gas-powered oven did a pretty good job, and for a pizza at a sports bar, this was better than you might expect. I wouldn't mind trying Hooligans' pizza again sometime, and I wonder whether on a busy weekend night they might actually throw some wood in the oven, which could give the pizza a slightly smoky edge and perhaps a bit more crispy, charred crust. Right now, I wouldn't say that the pizza is a clear choice over more traditional bar food like wings, but this was good enough to pique my curiosity about some of Hooligans' other pizza varieties. I'll give it a B.
TC Hooligan's, 809 Rdge Rd., Webster 671-7180
11 a.m. - 2 a.m. daily

Although a very few wood-fired pizza places in the Rochester area have been around for some time, the idea didn't really seem to take off until relatively recently; in the past two or three years, wood-fired pizzerias have been springing up around here like mushrooms after a summer rain.
For whatever reason, the trend has been confined almost entirely to the east side of the Genesee River. It's now spread south, although geographically the Great Divide continues.
Ember Woodfire Grill opened in late 2009 in a converted train station in Livonia, a few miles east of the northern tip of Conesus Lake (and well east of the Genesee, which meanders in a more southwesterly direction at this latitude, although the cultural divide represented by the Genesee in Monroe County doesn't extend this far south).
Ember is not primarily a pizza place, but it does offer pizza, baked in a wood-fired oven. Although Livonia's a little far south for me to travel for pizza, I'm willing to make an exception for wood-fired pizza, not because wood-fired pizza is necessarily better, but because it's still unusual, and because it ought to be better. If you're advertising wood-fired pizza, you're implicitly claiming to make pizza that stands out from the rest.
It doesn't always work out that way, of course. I've had wood-fired pizza that's just plain dried-out and burnt, and others that are indistinguishable from pizzas baked in a gas oven, and not even good examples of that, to boot.
But at Ember, I wasn't disappointed. This was a very nice, very enjoyable example of what can be achieved in a wood-fired oven.
Like most wood-fired pizzas, this had a thin crust, although this one might have been even thinner than most. It was crisp, crackly, and crackerlike, yet not wholly lacking in pliability.
The underside of the crust was well charred, in a spotted but more or less uniform pattern, and the edge was quite bubbly in a few places. The crust had a charred, very toasty flavor that I enjoyed, although I can imagine some people who aren't used to this style of pizza objecting that their pizza had been burned in the oven. I wouldn't call this burnt, but it did have a noticeable charred flavor.
There seemed to be a touch of oil on top of the crust, which might explain why it remained pliable, as oil will tend to soften the crust a bit. It was topped with tomatoes, mozzarella and shredded basil.
A lot of Margheritas I've had around here are dragged down by the tomatoes, which all too often are the hard, pale, tasteless baseballs you tend to find in these latitudes in the off-season. Ember largely solves that problem by using plum tomatoes, which on my pizza were flavorful and firm, neither hard nor mushy.
According to the menu, Ember uses fresh mozzarella on their Margherita pizzas, but this looked to me more like the aged, low-moisture stuff. It had a pale yellow color, rather than the pure white of fresh mozzarella, and it appeared to have been laid on in shreds rather than in the individual slices that you usually see with the fresh variety.
At first I thought the shredded basil was a bit sparse, but after a few bites I became aware of its flavor, which remained largely in the background, but which nevertheless supplied some welcome counterpoint to the sweet/acidic tomatoes and the mild, creamy cheese.
Embers offers five specialty pizzas, including a Mediterranean, chipotle BBQ chicken, steak pesto, and good ol' pepperoni. You can also create your own from among Embers' modest list of toppings.
Ember is far from just a pizza place, though. There's an extensive appetizer and tapas menu, which runs the gamut from braised pork belly to wood-fired mac 'n' cheese with bacon (I'm still scratching my head over how mac 'n' cheese can be wood-fired, though I'd love to try it). Each meal is also preceded by a selection of breads with a variety of dipping sauces and spreads.
Those looking for more traditional American fare will find offerings such as New York strip steak and pork tenderloin, often with a nouveau twist; the house meatloaf, for example, is made from a mix of veal, pork and beef, stuffed with roasted peppers and jack cheese, with a spicy espresso-brandy glaze. Each entree is accompanied on the menu by a suggested wine pairing, or a beer from Ember's well-chosen selection of microbrews.
For little ones, Ember can whip up a "classic" version of Kraft mac 'n' cheese, as well as a PB&J, corn dog, among other kid-friendly items. If you've got a tot in tow, Tuesdays and Wednesdays are good days to head to Ember, when kids get to make their own pizzas, for free.
My own young 'un wanted to get to the playground before dark, so I didn't have time to sample anything from Ember's dessert menu, but though short, it's tempting, and includes a raspberry chocolate truffle tart and oatmeal cake with chocolate peanut butter frosting. Like many of Ember's menu items, these are subject to change with the season, and are entirely house made.
Ember is located in a converted former train station, but you won't see any train memorabilia on the walls, as the owners have opted for a contemporary look, with neutral tones and a clean, even minimalist approach to the decor. The bar area is partially walled off from the dining room, but it was still pretty noisy throughout on my visit.
As I mentioned, wood-fired pizza can be a hit-and-miss proposition, as places either don't fully utilize the radiant heat of the oven, or go too far in the opposite direction and simply burn the crust. This pizza avoided both pitfalls, with a nice char and a crisp yet pliable crust. Ember's ultrathin, crackly pizza doesn't match my ideal pizza, which remains one with a thick enough crust to have a bit of chew, but the pizza, and the restaurant, are well worth a drive to Livonia. I'm giving the pizza an A-, and making a mental note to return sometime to sample some of Ember's other wares.
Ember Woodfire Grill, 21 Livonia Station, Livonia 346-0222 
Mon. - Wed. 11:30 a.m. - 9:30 p.m., Thu. - Sat. till 10 p.m. Bar hours:  Mon. - Wed. 4:30 p.m. -10:30 p.m., Thu.- Sat. till 11 p.m. Closed Sundays.

Just in time for St. Patty's Day and the NCAA tournament, here's another look at a local bar/restaurant that also serves pizza.
While pizza seems to be popping up on a lot of bar menus these days, and there's been a proliferation of wood-fired pizzerias around here in the past few years, it's still unusual to see wood-fired pizza offered at a casual sports bar, which is a pretty apt description of Shooters on Fairport Road. After one recent misfired attempt, I returned a few days ago to give their pizza a try.
While several of the menu options sounded tempting, I went with my usual Margherita, which is something of a default choice for me when trying wood-fired pizza. I like the relative simplicity of the style, which seems to fit well with the rustic, Old World nature of a wood-fired pizza.
Shooters' version came with regular, low-moisture mozzarella, and both tomato sauce and fresh tomatoes (I was asked if I wanted sauce, and said yes). The thin crust displayed some light charring, but was quite pliable; it definitely showed signs of having been baked in a wood-fired oven, but it was not heavily charred at all.
The crust did not have a lot of bite to it, except along the edge; it also didn't have much of an interior (again, excepting the edge), but it did have some nice toasty overtones, and it wasn't soggy or lifeless. As wood-fired crusts go, it was OK but not outstanding.
The cheese on this pizza was just a bit browned, well melted and quite stringy when it arrived, hot out of the oven. It was topped with sliced tomatoes, which were pretty flavorless (they are out of season, admittedly), similar to the forgettable slices that adorn many a sandwich these days. That made me glad I'd asked for tomato sauce, which at least gave the pizza some tomatoey flavor. It had a medium thick consistency and was moderately applied. The shreds of torn basil were not overly plentiful, but they did add some pleasant flavor accents.
I wouldn't call this a classic Margherita, more like a regular pizza with sliced tomatoes and basil, but that's OK. And while this wasn't the best wood fired pizza I've tried, it was far from the worst; I'd say it came in somewhere in the middle of the pack.
As I mentioned, Shooters has several specialty pizzas on the menu, and this was good enough to make me want to go back and try some others. Frankly I'd like to see them try something more simple and sparse, maybe a white pizza with a brushing of olive oil, some garlic, maybe a few olives, which I think could work well with this thin, supple crust.
I don't expect to see anything like that, though, as Shooters' pizza menu generally runs toward bold flavors and multiple toppings, with selections like a Clams Casino pizza (chopped clams, bacon, onion, bell peppers, red sauce, Romano and mozzarella) and an Andouille sausage pie with hot banana peppers. But some of those sound good too, and I expect to return sometime to give them a try. Until then, I'll give Shooters a B+.
Shooters Sports Bar & Grill, 1226 Fairport Rd. (Rt. 31F), Fairport. 385-9777
Mon. - Sat. 11 a.m. - 2 a.m., Sun. noon - midnight

Lemoncello Café in East Rochester has gotten a fair amount of press lately, with recent reviews in both the Democrat & Chronicle and City. But neither of those gave a tremendous amount of attention to Lemoncello's pizzas, so, with that in mind, I hope to avoid going over ground that's been covered by others.
Before I get to the pizza, though, allow me to digress for a moment. Just a pet peeve, but if you're going to choose a foreign-language name for your establishment, don't "dumb it down" by misspelling it. According to an earlier piece in City, Lemoncello is named after Limoncello, an Italian liqueur and digestif, but the owners "decided to change the spelling to make it more accessible for non-native speakers." In similar fashion, Le Bon Vie restaurant in Penfield misspells the French phrase "la bonne vie" ("the good life"), presumably because "le bon vie" - which improperly mixes masculine and feminine word forms - is supposed to be easier for non-French-speakers to read or remember. I'm not sure why that bugs me; maybe it's because it strikes me as condescending to the clientele, though I'm sure that's not the intent. But if you're a business owner, and you honestly think that your customers are going to have trouble with a correctly spelled foreign name, then why not pick a different name? I know, I'm probably the only person in the area who's pedantic enough to be bothered by that, but what can I say? We all have our hangups.
OK, back to the matter at hand:  a couple of friends and I recently had lunch at Lemoncello, one of the latest entrants onto Monroe County's suddenly burgeoning wood-fired pizza scene (which *sigh* remains almost entirely east of the river). The day being a bit too chilly to enjoy Lemoncello's patio, we were escorted past the front dessert-and-coffee bar to the back room, a cozy spot with an eclectic, distinctive decor, a small bar, and several tables.
One of my two companions and I each ordered a pizza, while the third member of our party got a panini and fries. I ordered a Napoli, which is essentially Lemoncello's version of a Margherita, as it is topped with tomato sauce, fresh mozzarella and basil. My friend, meanwhile, got a "Berlin," with tomato sauce, mozzarella, hot ham and mushrooms. (Nearly all the pizzas at Lemoncello are named for cities, though the connections were not always apparent, at least to me.)
Both pizzas were very thin, though the crusts were a little bit different from each other. The crust on the Napoli was dry underneath, and well browned in some areas, suggesting some hot spots in the oven. The underside was not really crisp or crackly, though it was quite firm, and didn't bend easily. The Berlin had a softer, somewhat floppy crust, but neither crust seemed to have risen much, and they lacked any real interior or crusty chew, with a texture that brought to mind a thin biscuit or chemically leavened flatbread.
Again, both of these were red pizzas, topped with a mildly seasoned tomato sauce. Despite being applied rather thickly, the sauce on the Napoli seemed a bit dried out, perhaps simply from evaporation in the oven. That's not necessarily a bad thing, since it concentrates the flavors and helps keep the dough crisp. The sauce on the Berlin, on the other hand, lying under a thick blanket of cheese, presumably hadn't lost as much water through evaporation, and the crust had indeed turned a bit gummy after spending a while on the plate.
The fresh mozzarella was plainly visible on the Napoli, but didn't have much of a presence. It seemed to have been sliced rather thinly, and tended to hide behind the more prominent flavors of the sauce. The same is true of the fresh basil, small shreds of which were scattered here and there, but not in enough quantity to make much of an impression on my palate.
As mentioned, the Berlin was covered by a thicker, more widespread layer of (processed) mozzarella. Not being a fan of mushrooms, I only sampled it, but in general it was characterized by bolder, more assertive flavors than the relatively understated Napoli.
Lemoncello features 13 red and 6 white pizzas on its menu, with some interesting topping combinations, perhaps the most unusual of which is the eponymous Lemoncello pizza, with olive oil, prosciutto, shaved Parmiggiano, fresh arugula, fresh tomatoes and lemon juice. First time I've seen lemon juice on a pizza, I think. Prices for each personal-size pizza run from $10.95 to $14.95. There's a fairly broad selection of other, mostly Italian, selections on the menu, including the aforementioned panini (which my friend enjoyed, along with his crisp, lightly seasoned fries). A full dinner menu is available after 5 p.m.
This is another review where I look back at what I've written and think, gee, this reads a lot harsher than I intended. I think that happens because it's often easier to find fault with pizza - well, with just about anything, really - than to identify what's good about it. Perfection, after all, is often simpler than imperfection (think of a perfect circle, for instance), as well as harder to describe (what's easier to describe - a beautiful face or an ugly face?). The more that a thing falls short of its Platonic ideal, then, the easier it is to point out its various flaws.
All of which is my way of saying, these weren't all that bad, but they did have, from my perspective, some flaws. The crust seemed rather lifeless, for one thing, and though the toppings tasted all right, they were a bit out of balance on my Napoli, with the fresh mozzarella and basil overshadowed by the tomato sauce. While the Berlin had good flavor, its crust also committed the sin of being gummy, which is particularly noticeable when the crust is that thin. On the plus side, there were some good flavors at work, and the crust on my Napoli was at least somewhat crisp. So while I wouldn't call these "average" pizzas (in the sense of being "typical" of local pizza), I think they deserve an average grade, and I'll give them a C.
Lemoncello Café and Lounge, 137 W. Commercial St., East Rochester 14445, 385-6741
Café open Mon. - Fri. 9 a.m. till (?), Sat. & Sun. 11 a.m. till (?). Back bar and lounge open 4 p.m. till (?) daily. Kitchen open Mon. - Thu. 11 a.m. - 10 p.m., Fri. 11 a.m. - 11 p.m., Sat. noon - 11 p.m., Sun. noon - 10 p.m.

It's taken me a while to get there, but I finally made it to Scotland Yard, a St. Paul St. pub with a wood-fired pizza oven. Part of the reason was that until recently, Scotland Yard wasn't open for lunch, when it's easier for me to run out and grab a quick pizza, while dinner mostly takes place at home with the family. But I do get out for dinner now and then, and so it was the other night, when I ate at Scotland Yard.

From the list of nine specialty pizzas, I chose the Marguerite, which is topped with fresh mozzarella, basil, tomatoes, and red sauce. I've seen "Margherita" pizza (named for an Italian queen) misspelled Margarita (nobody seems to know for sure whom the drink was named after), but that's the first time I've seen it given a French spelling. Well, a Margherita by any other name would taste as good, non?

I've had enough wood-fired pizzas around here by now to appreciate the differences from one restaurant to another, but also to make certain generalizations. Typically, they range from thinnish to almost paper thin, with at least some charring underneath and along the edge. Depending on certain variables, they can be anywhere from knife-and-fork floppy to stiff-as-a-board crisp.

This one was closer to the paper thin, floppy end of things. The crust was so thin that it had no real interior to speak of, and was more chewy than crunchy. The underside was browned, in a mottled kind of pattern, but was one of the less well-done wood-fired pizzas I've had, with nothing that I would call actual charring. A companion's white pizza was darker underneath, with a spotted pattern of light charring underneath.

The white pizza was also considerably crisper and firmer than my red pizza. Part of that is probably due to its being more sparingly topped, with garlic, olive oil, and a light sprinkling of mozzarella, Asiago, and Parmesan cheeses. Though the toppings on my pie would not have been particularly heavy on an ordinary, thicker-crusted pizza, they were more than the Marguerite's thin, lightly baked crust could bear; attempts to pick up an individual slice invariably resulted in the toppings simply sliding off onto the plate. After two or three unsuccessful tries, I gave in and asked the bartender for a knife and fork.

As for the flavor -- one of the reasons that I like a slightly charred crust is that it imparts a toasty, sometimes smoky flavor to the pizza. The crust on this one didn't add much flavor. Instead, the relatively thick layer of tomato sauce, combined with the slices of fresh tomato, made this a tomato-dominated pizza.

The cheese was more of a passive presence. The menu describes it as fresh mozzarella, and I won't dispute that, but the consistency seemed more like that of processed mozzarella. I didn't have any particular complaints about it, mind you, it simply had a thicker, less creamy texture than what I expect from fresh mozzarella. The fresh basil was sparsely applied, and added little more than color.

Scotland Yard's other pizza offerings include a chicken Caesar pizza, which is made with olive oil, garlic, Asiago, and mozzarella, "topped with a chicken Caesar salad." I'm not sure if I'd like it, but I'd like to see that. I assume the salad goes on after the pizza comes out of the oven? There's also a "Dragons Breath" pizza
with "dragon sauce, chicken, cheddar, asiago, red onions, and Scotland Yard sauce." I don't know what the difference is bewteen dragon sauce (which is described as an "Asian inspired, spicy garlic sauce" and Scotland Yard sauce, but again it sounds intriguing. And again, I need to start asking more questions when I'm looking over the menu, so I can find out these kinds of things. You can also build a pizza by choosing any three of Scotland Yard's sixteen toppings, for the same $10 price as most of its specialty pizzas. Non-pizza offerings include "dragon wings," salads, sandwiches, wraps, and sides, including the either whimsically- or pretentiously-named "pork infused beans."

While its name suggests a faux English pub, Scotland Yard is, thankfully, more of an Americanized version of that venerable institution. There's a long bar up front, with several TVs tuned to sports channels, a few small tables near the front window, and several more in back. The dark wood paneling helps create a relaxing setting, and the overall atmosphere is something of a cross between a pub and an American tavern. There are several beers on tap, and while the draught lineup is not particularly Anglocentric, beer aficionados should find something to their liking among the several microbrews available.

Now - getting back to that pizza - Scotland Yard's website says that they use Wood Stone ovens, which come in wood-fired, wood/gas, and gas-fired configurations. I'm not sure if Scotland Yard is using an all-wood-fired oven or a wood/gas combo, but this pizza was not what I've come to expect (or at least hope for) from a wood-burning oven. It wasn't so much the floppiness per se -- I mean, the pizza I got at the Humphrey House was kind of floppy, and I liked it a lot -- as the lack of any genuine charring, or crisp outer bite to the crust. Also, while I hate to complain about getting overly generous toppings, this crust simply couldn't hold up under the weight of these toppings. I'm OK with eating pizza with a knife and fork, which is how it's generally done in Italy, I'm told, but as I've said many times before, I look for balance in a pizza, and in this instance the crust seemed to get lost under the tomato slices, sauce, and cheese, with the basil coming in a distant fourth. Next time I think I'd opt for something lighter, perhaps a white pizza with a few vegetable toppings.

As I'm writing this, I'm thinking that it sounds as if I really disliked this pizza, which I didn't. It tasted good, I ate most of it, and my wife loved the leftovers I brought home. I was just a little disappointed with some aspects of it, perhaps a victim of my own preconceptions. But to try to bring some measure of objectivity to this review, I'd say that while this fell short in a couple of areas for my taste, it was still a better than average pizza, and worth paying a visit to Scotland Yard. So I'll give it a B.

Scotland Yard Pub, 187 St. Paul St. 14604, 730-5030

Food Served Sun. noon - 8 p.m., Mon. - Thu. 11 a.m. - 10:30 p.m., Fri. & Sat. 5 p.m. - 11 p.m.

Cocktails Served Sun. noon - Till, Mon. - Thu. 4 p.m. - Till, Fri. 4 p.m. - 2 a.m., Sat. 5 p.m. - 2 a.m.

College campuses aren't typically places I would go looking for pizza, but after hearing that RIT had a place called "Stone Oven Pizza," I thought it might be worth checking out.
Clearly the days of the dining hall as the place to eat on-campus are long gone. Today it's all about choices, and RIT offers students a dizzying array of options, including the aforementioned Stone Oven.
While it's nice to have choices and all, that doesn't mean much if the food's no good. So how's the pizza?
I got a cheese slice and a Margherita slice, which was one of specialty slices of the day. They were baked in what looked, at first glance, like a wood-fired oven, but it appeared to me that the flame inside was simply a gas flame.
The crust on both slices was thin, with an underside that was, sadly, crisscrossed with screen marks. I say "sadly" because it seems to me that baking the pizza on a screen, while it might be convenient, is not apt to give you as crisp a crust as baking it right on the floor of that nice-looking stone oven. And sure enough, the underside on these was firm, but not what I would call crisp, and the crust was a bit chewy. There were a few spots underneath that were nearly charred, but mostly they were just a mottled brown.
The cheese slice was covered with a fairly thick blanket of mozzarella. It was a little oily on top. The moderately-applied sauce had a thick consistency and a middle-of-the-road flavor, neither too sweet, salty or herbal. The puffy edge of the crust was OK, with some bready flavor, but not particularly noteworthy.
The Margherita was, well, not what I would call a Margherita. Not to get hung up on labels, but if you'd asked me what kind of pizza it was, I wouldn't have guessed that it was a Margherita.
Some chunky tomatoes were interspersed with what appeared to be fresh mozzarella, though the cheese seemed a bit dried out and not as creamy as it could've been.
That was fine, but where was the basil? I'm not sure that I've ever had a Margherita without some fresh basil on it. This simply had what flakes of what I took to be dried, crushed basil.
Semantics aside, this was pretty tasty. The underside, though still not crisp, was a bit more blackened than the cheese slice, and had some pleasant toasty flavor notes. I picked up a pronounced aroma of garlic, while on the palate, there was a tangy saltiness from the cheese, which played nicely off the sweetness of the tomatoes. To paraphrase Shakespeare, a Margherita by any other name would taste just as good, and whether this deserved that moniker or not, it was, for me, definitely the better of the two slices.
I didn't get a menu - I'm not sure that they had any - but you can get an idea of the offerings at SOP and its neighbors at the Commons here. Here's a campus map, if have no idea where the Commons is (I didn't).
Some time ago, RIT's Dining Services vowed to come up with "Rochester's Best Pizza." I'm not sure if this is supposed to be it, or if they're still in the laboratory working on it. Either way, I'd say they've still got some work to do, but this wasn't bad pizza. I wouldn't go out of my way to get it, but if I were on campus and hungry, there's a good chance I'd head to Stone Oven. I'll give it a B-.
Stone Oven Pizza & Pasta Cucina, at the Commons, RIT campus.
Mon. - Fri. 11 a.m. - midnight, Sat. & Sun. noon - midnight.