pizza

When I go to a New York City-style slice joint, I tend to stick to plain cheese slices. Yes, I like other varieties, but in its simplicity, a well-made cheese slice really captures the essence of great New York pizza.
But I also know that man does not live on cheese pizza alone. In fact, if you really want to get down to basics, pizza doesn't have to have cheese at all to be good. What it needs is a good crust and tasty toppings.
You'll find that - in various permutations - at Joe's Brooklyn Pizza in Henrietta. I've been a fan of Joe's since my first visit back in early 2009, not long after it opened (its roots go back well before that, but I won't get into all that here).
Since then, I've tried several varieties of Joe's pizza, and I've yet to run across one I didn't like. So it was with great expectations that I ventured deeper into Joe's menu on my most recent visit, and my optimism was again proved justified.
I've done a few posts about old-fashioned tomato or "sauce" pies, which around here typically are topped with tomato sauce and a generous sprinkling of Romano cheese. Joe's Grandma's pizza fits roughly within that description, but Joe's now offers, in addition, a tomato pie that omits the cheese altogether.
With a blend of tomato sauce, shredded basil, and garlic, all atop Joe's signature, crisp, thin crust, I hardly missed the cheese at all on this one. If given a choice, I'd probably still opt for the Grandma's, most of the time, but it wouldn't be a slam dunk. This was a very tasty pizza - and a great option for vegans, too. Speaking of which, this reminded me in a way of a good vegetarian meal - it might not make you ready to give up meat altogether, but it makes you realize how good a meal can be, even without animal products.
Next up was a Buffalo chicken slice. This is a relatively recent, but to me very interesting style of pizza, as it's subject to so many interpretations.
Joe's version consists of a thin crust, topped with a generous helping of diced chicken, in a tangy, spicy, medium-hot sauce, along with a moderate layer of mozzarella cheese. This was a simple, straightforward approach to a Buffalo chicken pizza, with no blue cheese, celery, or other accompaniments - just chicken, hot sauce, and pizza cheese.
Next to the Buffalo chicken slice in the photo, you'll see a thick-crust, Sicilian version of the Grandma's pie. This had the same blend of tomatoes, herbs, garlic and cheese that's made me such a fan of the thin-crust version, on Joe's thicker, crunchy, pan-baked Sicilian crust. As much as I love thin-crust pizza, the toppings on this one in some ways seemed to go even better with a thicker, breadier crust - kind of like sopping up the sauce from a plate of pasta with a good thick slice of Italian bread.
Speaking of which, Joe's has recently added pasta to its menu, and I tried that as well, compliments of Joe. This consisted of a bowl of fettucine, cooked al dente, which was mixed - not drenched -  with homemade tomato sauce and topped by a sprinkling of grated cheese. The quickly cooked sauce of fresh tomatoes, herbs and olive oil had a bright, vibrant flavor that set it apart from its canned or all-day-on-the-stove cousins, and the only thing I was lacking was the aforementioned slice of bread to soak up what little of the sauce was left in my container.
While that's plenty of food for one visit - or one blog post - I've saved, if not the best, at least the most unusual, for last. If you're feeling just a bit adventurous, or want something a little out of the ordinary, you must try Joe's hot dog pizza. According to Joe (seen proudly showing off a freshly made hot dog pie in the photo), this is something of a cult favorite downstate, and since Noo Yawkas know their hot dogs as well as their pizza, it's a good bet that they're on to something here.
I guess you could call this a white pizza, inasmuch as there was no tomato sauce, though the copious amount of wiener slices and caramelized onions gave it an overall reddish-brown hue. I don't think this would ever be an everyday, go-to kind of pizza for me, but topped with some spicy brown mustard, my hot dog slice was really rather good, and more than just a novelty item. The vinegary mustard (which I added myself) provided a nice counterpoint to the salty, meaty franks and the sweet onions. Next time, I'd love to try one with a bit of warm sauerkraut on top as well.
One of the many great things about pizza is its versatility, as evidenced by the offerings at just this one pizzeria. When all is said and done, I'll still end up going back to my basic cheese slice, but once in a while it's good to mix things up a little, and Joe's offers pleny of opportunities to do that.
I'm not going to give individual ratings to these pizzas. I haven't been rating Buffalo chicken pizza at all, and how can I rate a hot dog pie? My ratings are intended to be guidelines to how a given pizza compares with others like it in this area, and there's nothing around here, that I've tried at least, to compare with this pie.
But I've made clear before that as far as I'm concerned, Joe's Brooklyn Pizza consistently serves up grade-A pizza, and nothing I tried on this visit changed that opinion. If you haven't been there yet, it's high time you did so. When it comes time to pick from among Joe's array of options, though, you're on your own.
Joe's Brooklyn Pizza, 1100 Jefferson Rd # 23B, 14623. 424-JOES (5637)
Mon. - Tue. 11 a.m. - 9 p.m., Wed. - Sat. 11 a.m. - 10 p.m., Sun. noon - 8 p.m.

Not a full-blown review here, but just a quick note. A few weeks ago in Wegmans I saw a stack of boxes of "tomato pie," which is a kind of pizza that seems to be commonly associated with the Utica, NY and Trenton, NJ/Philadelphia areas. It's basically a thick, pan-baked pizza covered with tomato sauce and Romano cheese.

Other than having read a little about them, I know very little about tomato pies, so I don't think I'm in a position to pass judgment on this one. I mean, I have very little idea how it would stack up against a "classic" tomato pie. So that's one reason I'm not going to rate this.

That, and the fact that when I bought it, I threw it in the freezer, where it stayed until last night. Apparently, tomato pies are often served fresh, but at room temperature, and either eaten that way or reheated in the oven. So this wasn't intended to be frozen, and I don't know how that might've affected its flavor and texture.

Having said that, I thought this was actually pretty good.

Now I like a good, simple pizza with just sauce and Romano, and you can find several varieties of that style around here, like Amico's "#1". Nevertheless, I took the liberty of adding some shredded mozzarella and pepperoni to half of this pie, just for the sake of variety and because I had them on hand.

After about 20 minutes in a 400-degree oven, this came out with a crisp, slightly crunchy crust that was not oily or greasy. The interior was a bit dry, almost brittle, but that could easily be due to sitting in my freezer for a few weeks.
The sauce was added in moderation and had a straightforward tomatoey flavor. A likewise moderate sprinkling of Romano added flavor, but it wasn't overly assertive.

This was, then, something like the old-fashioned style of pizza you'll find at places like Amico and Guida's, but on a Sicilian-style crust. I actually liked it better than some of the fresh, regular pizza I've had from Wegmans, and certainly better than just about any frozen pizza I've tried. And while it was fine as is, with just the sauce and Romano, it also made a good base for additional toppings.

While it's no substitute for a pizza fresh from your local pizzeria's oven, or made from scratch at home, this would make a good option for a quick and easy dinner or as a side with an entree. I have no idea what Uticans or Trentonians would think of Wegmans' tomato pie, but I liked it well enough.

I've been making a point lately of trying Buffalo chicken pizza at various places, not so much because I love it - I like wings, and I love pizza, but I generally prefer to eat them separately - but because it seems to be such a popular variety around here. And there are some interesting variations in this style from one place to another.
It was only a matter of time before I tried the version served up by Brandani's on West Henrietta Road, which is one of my favorite local pizzerias, mostly for its consistently delicious, thick, bready crust.
I was especially intrigued when I was perusing Brandani's menu one day and saw that their Buffalo chicken pizza included celery - according to the menu, the pizza is layered with a blue cheese base, marinated chicken and mozzarella, topped off with celery, so it includes "everything but the bones!" It's not that I'm such a huge fan of celery, but this sounded unlike any other Buffalo chicken pizza I'd had before.
And it was, even if it wasn't quite what I expected. The slice was indeed covered with a blue cheese sauce. That alone differentiated this from the other Buffalo chicken pizzas I've tried, which have come with either tomato or hot sauce. In fact, a lot of Buffalo chicken pizzas don't seem to have any blue cheese at all.
There was, however, no celery that I could detect. Maybe if you order a whole pie, they add some diced or sliced celery after it comes out of the oven, and maybe the thinking is that celery wouldn't hold up well on a lunchtime pie, which has to sit out for some time. But I was a little disappointed by that.
This was a pretty greasy slice of pizza. There was an oil slick at the bottom of the box, and some pooled grease on the top of the slice as well. But hey, whaddaya want with Buffalo chicken? We're not talking salad here.
The crust, though not oil-soaked, was also a little more greasy than I've come to expect from Brandani's. But again that's not a total shocker when you consider the toppings. Not only will the bits of fried chicken add some grease, but you've got that blue cheese sauce to contend with as well.
The sauce was like a thick dressing in consistency, though it may have thinned out a little, or separated into its oil- and water-based components in the heat of the oven. It was not just a blue cheese-flavored sauce, as there were small chunks of blue cheese noticeable throughout.
They were interspersed with larger chunks of breaded chicken, and of course, there was some hot sauce present. Unlike some Buffalo chicken pizzas, though, the hot sauce provided more of a flavor accent than a dominant theme, making the overall flavor profiled something like a lightly-sauced wing doused in blue cheese sauce. All that was missing, then, were the bones and the celery. I'm not sure that I would've liked this any better with celery - maybe not, actually - but it would've been nice to find out.
Of course, unlike when eating actual wings, here you've got the addition of Brandani's crust. Though not as wonderfully crisp and flavorful as on some of Brandani's pizzas, this one still had a bit of crispness, and it remained nice and breadlike inside - beautifully risen dough with large air holes, giving it the great internal structure (or "crumb," in breadspeak) that is a hallmark of Brandani's pizza.
For my second slice, I could've opted for another, new-to-me variety from among Brandani's impressive lunchtime lineup, but the primavera slices, which I've reviewed before, looked too good to resist. It had a crisper crust, topped with finely chopped tomatoes, herbs and grated Romano. Simple but delicious.
I'll stick with my plan of not rating these Buffalo chicken pizzas. Not enough personal experience of them, plus they differ so widely from each other that I'm not at all sure a rating would be much help. I'll just say that if you like a lot of blue cheese with your wings, then Brandani's version is for you. If you're more into the hot sauce than the blue cheese, then this might not be your best bet, though you could always order wings from Brandani's along with one of their other pizzas. Either way, Brandani's should be on local pizza lovers' radar.
Brandani's Pizza, 2595 W. Henrietta Rd. 272-7180
Mon. - Sat. 11 a.m. - 9 p.m., Sun. 12 noon - 7 p.m.

There are certain pizzerias I find myself going back to, partly because I like their pizza, and partly because there are particular items on their menus that I want to try. One of those is Amico on East Ridge Road.
I've tried Amico's regular pizza, and their white pizza, but their "#1" caught my eye - it's described on the menu as "[a]n Amico tradition since the beginning. Our homemade sauce covered with fresh ground Pecorino-Romano."
Now a pizza with nothing but red sauce and Romano cheese might not sound that interesting, but it is to me. I've come to think that in the early days of Rochester pizza, before the chains moved in and before pizza became homogenized into the standard American pizza of today, pizza, where it could be found, tended to be a very simple affair, with little more than, well, the aforementioned red sauce and Romano cheese. The more bland, but better-melting mozzarella seems to have come along later.

I've tried some other examples of this older style, such as Gallo's "Old World" pizza, Guida's "sauce pie," and Giuseppe's "Old Timer," which, with the addition of anchovies and cherry peppers is a little more complicated, but which is still based on the same foundation of red sauce and Romano. Despite their simplicity, these pizzas may be a little more challenging to the modern American palate, primarily because of the heavy dose of Romano, which nowadays is more often used as a sprinkled-on condiment - an afterthought, even - than a prominent, integral component.
Amico will be celebrating its 50th anniversary next year, putting it in the senior class of Rochester pizzerias, and no survey of this local style would be complete without a visit to Amico. So, when I picked up a medium #1 pie from Amico last week, I was eager to try their version of this old-school pizza.
The first thing that struck me about this pizza was its mouthwatering aroma in my car. The steam emanating from the pizza box carried with it the scent of freshly baked dough, tomato sauce and Romano cheese, making it difficult not to pull over and devour a slice or two before I got it home.
I was able to maintain my willpower, though, and waited until I got indoors before opening the box. I was a little surprised, though not disappointed, to see that the crust was considerably thinner than the pizzas I've gotten from Amico in the past. Amico's menu notes that you can get thick or thin crust on request, and while I didn't specify any particular thickness for this one, I think this would have to be considered a thin crust. I'm not sure if that's standard for the #1, but it might be. With such simple toppings, a thick crust might tend to overwhelm the sauce and cheese. This crust was thin enough to allow the full flavor and texture of the toppings to come through.
Similarly, the underside on this one wasn't as dark as on the pizzas I've gotten from Amico before. Now that could just be a random thing, or it might be by design too. Again, the Romano doesn't melt the way that mozzarella does, and this cheese was already turning a little brown in the center of the pie. Much longer in the oven and the cheese could easily have gotten overdone.
The thin crust still had the breadiness I've come to associate with Amico's pizza, but it was easily foldable. A napkin or two was called for here, as the sauce tended to ooze out the back end as I worked my way through each slice.
A little sloppiness was a small price to pay, though, for the flavor of this pizza. How good can a pizza be with nothing but sauce and Romano cheese? Very good, indeed. The thin but bready crust made a fine base for the contrasting yet complementary flavors of the sauce and cheese.
That cheese was laid on in some abundance, so much so that you might think its sharp flavor would simply be overpowering, but it wasn't. The comparatively sweet, vibrant flavor of the tomato sauce acted as a counterweight to the lactic tang of the cheese, and the time that the pie spent in the oven may also have taken a bit of the edge off the Romano as well. I didn't notice much herb flavor, but it was hardly needed here.
What was also striking about this pizza was its texture, particularly that of the cheese. While it was missing the chewy-gooey stringiness of processed mozzarella that most of us have come to expect, the Romano had something of its own to offer. Baking atop the sauce, the cheese here had developed a crumbly, almost cakelike texture that gave it an unusual but very interesting mouthfeel.
Having tried several of these "old timer" style pizzas now, I've formed some opinions about them. On the one hand, I can see why today's style of American pizza eventually supplanted these. In this land of supersized meals, it's not surprising that people came to prefer pizzas covered with thick blankets of mozzarella, loaded with toppings. And I have to admit that there's a certain richness that you get with melted mozzarella that you can't get from a grating cheese like Romano.
But I can also see why people fell in love with pizza in the first place, back when pies like this were closer to the norm. I'm guessing that even this style of pizza is more Italian-American that native Italian, yet it clearly owes a good deal to the pizzas of the Old World, which I think tend to be far simpler, more subtle affairs than their bold, brash American cousins.
And what a pizza like this shows is that simple doesn't have to mean boring, bland or insipid. For all its seeming austerity, this pizza had abundant flavor, and a beautiful harmonic balance of bright sauce, tangy cheese and bready crust.
This pizza may not be for everybody, and even for me, it probably wouldn't be an everyday kind of thing. As much as I enjoyed and appreciated it, my tastes in pizza were shaped by the dominant pizza culture of late-20th-century America, where processed mozzarella is king. But this is definitely a pizza I would go back to now and then.
If your idea of a good pizza is one piled high with pepperoni, sausage, and extra cheese, this may not be to your liking, frankly. On the other hand, if you enjoy diving into a plate of pasta drenched in tomato sauce, with a healthy dose of Parmesan or Romano on top, this one's for you. Me, I'm giving it an A-.
Amico Pizza, 859 E.Ridge Rd. 544-8380
Sun. 1 p.m. - 9 p.m., Tue. - Thu. 11 a.m. - 10 p.m., Fri. & Sat. 11 am - 11:30 p.m.

I've been intrigued for some time now by the basic, tomato-sauce-based pies that appear on the menus of some pizzerias around here. Often these are found at well-established places with deep local roots, and it seems to me that these pizzas come from an older tradition, before today's emphasis on heavy toppings took hold. Whether they go by the name or not, these pizzas, I think, are related to the "grandma's pizza" often found downstate. Though the specifics vary, this style of pizza generally deemphasizes the cheese, with a tomato sauce providing the dominant base for a few simple toppings, which frequently include a sprinkling of Romano.
One such pizza is found at Guida's. While Guida's does make a "Gramma's" pizza, they also offer something similar that goes by the simple name of "sauce pie." While that might sound like nothing more than a pizza with sauce but no cheese, this is in fact a little more than that. Any doubts on that score were removed when I opened the box, as my nostrils were greeted by an intoxicating aroma of tomato sauce, Romano and garlic, which is about as winning a combination of ingredients as there is.
That heavenly aroma again got me thinking about the term "grandma's pizza." I can imagine a lot of Italian grandmothers' kitchens smelling exactly like this, with a pot of sauce simmering on the stove. The name makes perfect sense now. And it's the addition of garlic that, I think, chiefly differentiated this pie from the Gramma's I'd had before at Guida's.
But what an addition it is. You could put this stuff over ice cream and I think I'd like it. Over pasta, it would be divine.
And aside from pasta, what goes with a good tomato-based sauce better than bread? And what is a pizza crust but a disk-shaped bread? (For that matter, bread and pasta are pretty close culinary cousins, apart from the inclusion of yeast in the former.)
Of course, not just any bread will do; ideally you want a nice, chewy Italian-style bread, and on that score Guida's delivers, with a crust that's firm on the outside yet chewy on the inside, with good bready flavor. That also differed from the Gramma's, which had a softer crust that seemed to have risen and been baked in a pan. Personally I love a very crisp, crackly exterior, which this didn't quite have, but it's hard to fault it nonetheless, as it was still firm, and had a mouth-pleasing chewy texture and good bread flavor.
The bottom of the crust was lightly dusted with corn meal, and there was a bit of oil underneath as well. While eating this, my lips and tongue picked up a faint hint of oil too, suggesting that perhaps the dough got a light swirl or brushing with olive oil before going into the oven, or maybe the oil came from the sauce or the garlic, I don't know. Whatever its source, that might also account for the crust being a little less crisp than some, as oil will typically tenderize bread dough. But it certainly wasn't what I'd call a greasy crust, and with its breadlike flavor and texture, it was more than just a vehicle for the toppings.
Speaking of which, the sauce was of course the star here, and, consistent with the overall simplicity of this pie, it had a straightforward character, with enough herbs to add some flavor accents but not enough to get in the way of the bright flavor of the tomatoes.
The same held true with the Romano cheese. With its sharp flavor, a little Romano goes a long way, and Guida's wisely avoided overdosing this pie; again, a plate of pasta comes to mind, with a sprinkling, but not a dousing, of Romano on top.
Frankly, I would've been happy with just the sauce and Romano, but things get even better with the addition of garlic. The garlic stood well out from the background, completing the trinity of toppings, and was assertive without being harsh; there wasn't the unpleasant aftertaste that raw garlic or garlic powder can leave behind. Finish all that off with the thick, bready outer crust and you've got one very good pizza indeed.
Having said that, this pizza might not be for everyone. If your ideal pizza is one that's covered with thick, gooey cheese, or loaded with toppings, well, this isn't it. But if you're one of those people who likes to sop up your pasta sauce with a thick slice of chewy Italian bread, then you'll love this pizza. It proves once again that for all the pizza ads you see trumpeting topping-heavy pizzas, with pizza sometimes less really is more. I'll give this one an A-.
Guida's Pizzeria, 440 Empire Blvd., Rochester 14609. 288-0590
Mon-Thu. 11 a.m. - 10 p.m., Fri. & Sat. 11 a.m. - 11 p.m., Sun. noon - 10 p.m.
Other locations at 1837 Penfield Rd. in Penfield, 166 W. Main St. in Honeoye Falls, 964 Ridge Rd. in Webster, and 736 Elmgrove Rd. in Gates.

I did a post back in May of last year about Gallo’s on Stone Road in Greece. At the time, I just had a couple of slices, which I liked, but I also took note of their “Old World Style” pizza on the menu, which is described as having a “crispy crust, topped with fresh herbs & spices in a traditional red sauce and grated parmesan.” I mentioned that it “might be worth a try sometime.”
Well, “sometime” finally came, as I went and got myself a medium Old World pizza.
Why did I wait so long? I really liked this pizza, which, along with such other local examples as Pizza Stop’s meatball parm pizza and Joe’s Brooklyn’s grandma’s pizza, is beginning to make me think that my favorite style of pizza may involve much less cheese than the standard American pie.
My Gallo’s Old World pizza had a thin to medium crust that was a little thicker toward the edge. It was screen baked, but the dark brown underside had some exterior firmness, a slight crispness - and a definite crunch along the edge - with a bready interior packed with visible air holes.
Not only that, the crust tasted good. That was most noticeable along the edge, which is always where you’ll know for sure if a pizza crust is good or not, but it was also apparent throughout the pizza, and I think some of that has to do with the simplicity of this pizza. The relative lack of toppings, compared to many American versions that are piled high with meat, double cheese, etc., allowed the crust to really shine here.
This was, obviously, a saucy pizza, but the sauce, like the herbs and Romano cheese, was not overpowering, and everything was kept in good balance. Although it was not “cheesy” in the usual sense, there was enough of the sharp-flavored Romano to balance out the sauce and crust. There was also certainly some garlic in there somewhere, although it may have been powdered or granulated.
What struck me as I was eating this pizza was how simple it was, yet so delicious. I think that we Americans have become so accustomed to pizza with a thick, unbroken layer of melted cheese on top that it’s something of a revelation to eat a pizza that is so good even though (or more likely because) it doesn’t fit that profile.
As the “Old World” name implies, Gallo’s certainly didn’t invent this style of pizza, nor does it claim to. This is Gallo’s take on a very traditional Italian style of pizza. And of course, minimalist pizza doesn’t necessarily mean more sauce than cheese; some white pizzas, for instance, have no sauce, and little more than a brushing of olive oil, some fresh garlic, basil and black pepper.
But I do like tomato sauce, and what I liked about this pizza was the way that the sauce provided flavor and moisture, without the stomach-filling effects of a typical mozzarella-laden pizza. Although I managed to stop eating after downing half my medium pie, it took an effort of self-control, as this was a very easy pizza to eat.
So yeah, I liked this one a lot, and I rank it among my new favorites. It scores an A- from me.
I liked this so much, in fact, that I went back to Gallo’s a few days later to see if I could have a few minutes to talk pizza with the owner. I did, and highlights of that conversation will be coming up in a day or two.
Gallo's Pizza & Subs, 1064 Stone Rd. (in Frear's Garden Center Plaza) 663-5960
Mon. - Thu. 10 a.m. - 10 p.m., Fri. & Sat. 10 a.m. - midnight, Sun. noon - 10 p.m.