Oh How I Love Pizza

I know that Jesus said that “man shall not live by bread alone” but He probably never had bread in the form of pizza. I tried living without pizza for just forty days during Lent one year and it was way too big of a sacrifice for me.

I guess you could say that I have pizza in my blood. My great-grandfather, Ferdinando Romano, worked with his half-brother Antonio Maresca at Lombardi’s on Spring Street, known to be the first pizzeria in America. Ferdinando who hailed from Sorrento then became a pizzaiolo at his stepfather’s place, Pop’s Pizzeria and Restaurant which was located at 120 Van Brunt Street. When he got older, he left Pop’s and moved to Dyker Heights where he established Romano’s Restaurant with his eldest daughter and her husband. At that point, Pop’s was taken over by his two other sons-in-laws, my grandfather, Emmanuel LoPorto and my great uncle Al Pisciotta. Those two couldn’t work together so Uncle Al went off and established a place with his brother called Al & Jack’s on Smith & 9th Streets, and my grandparents became the proprietors of Pop’s. It was at Pop’s that my dad grew up making pizza alongside his dad and his cousin Christie, with help from his brothers Freddie and Nicky. Pop’s also had a chef named Leo who prepared hot dishes but it was primarily known for their Neapolitan pizza and clam pie and there are still people left in Carroll Gardens who remember it well.

In the mid 1950’s my mom and her sister were twin waitresses at Pop’s and my mom fell in love with the boss’ son. When my dad got out of the Army in the late fifties, he found the business almost run to the ground and so Pop’s was sold to a cousin before eventually closing. Shortly thereafter, my parents married and I was born exactly nine months later. I’ve always been a little sad that I never got to experience Pop’s. Once when I was growing up, my father and my grandfather decided to make pizza for New Year’s Eve. My mom consented but said “don’t make too much.” Well, they had never made pizza for just the family and we thus had dough rising all over the house. I finally got to taste a pizza like they made at Pop’s and it was just...exquisitely delicious. I think their secret was that there was a generous sprinkle of grated cheese in addition to the mozzarella. Luckily there were a lot of leftovers from that one foray into homemade pizza and we were eating pizza for days!

Although pizza is my favorite food, hands down, I am not a pizza snob and I have tried and continue to try many, many pizzas. The first slice of pizza I can remember having was at the House of Pizza and Calzone on Union Street. My nana lived around the corner and she brought me there when I was a toddler, lifted me up to sit on the counter and ordered two slices. One slice she folded and handed to me, warning me to chew carefully and “not to choke” and on the other she shook a load of red pepper and immediately took a piping hot bite. I can remember after visiting Santa Claus at A&S Department Store, my parents would take us for a nice sit-down pie at Sam’s and I stopped for many a slice at Sal’s on Court and DeGraw Streets on the way home from shopping downtown. On weekend nights, long after dinner was over, we might order a pizza from Gloria’s located where Casa Rosa used to be. Sometimes we would stop over at Leonardo’s on Court and 1st Place where they made a nice charred brick-oven pie.

We’ve visited those well-known establishments whose founders had also learned their craft at Lombardi’s -- John’s on Bleecker Street in the Village, Totonno’s in Coney Island, and Patsy’s in East Harlem. We’ve had pizza at L&B Spumoni Gardens and at Frank Pepe’s in New Haven and Yonkers (they also make a great clam pie). In recent years, we’ve discovered Table 87 which makes a wonderful burrata pie. And I do love Lucali’s where Mark Iacono makes an exceptional pizza Napoletana and calzone.

Several years ago, my husband, our sons and I were traveling by train from Sorrento to Rome with an hour and a half stopover in Naples. I told my husband the only thing I wanted was to have a pizza in the birthplace of pizza. He was hesitant to wander too far from the train station. I persisted and thanks to our hero, a cabdriver named Lorenzo, who drove us to Pizzeria Trianon Da Ciro (Ciro was my other grandfather’s name so I took it to be a good sign), waited until we finished and drove us back to the train station with 20 minutes to spare, we were able to enjoy a heavenly pizza Margherita, probably the best pizza of our lives -- and the single best meal we had on our entire trip. As we piled back into the cab, Lorenzo pinched his cheek which is Italian sign language for delicious, and asked my husband “Buono?” My husband replied with a resounding “Si!!”

Last summer, my husband and I got tickets to “Brooklyn Pizza: The Search for Authenticity” at the Brooklyn Historical Society which featured a panel of pizza makers including the daughter of Frank De Marco of DiFara’s whose pizza is a work of art although the wait is long and $5 is kind of steep for a slice. The most down-to-earth person on that panel was Giovanni (Gio) of Luigi’s Pizzeria on Fifth Avenue and 20th Street in Park Slope. Gio asked “What’s not to like about pizza? It’s the food of the gods -- bread, sauce and cheese.”

About a month ago, we finally had a chance to visit Luigi’s and as soon as we told Gio that we had seen him at the Brooklyn Historical Society event, he cut a slice of fresh mozzarella pizza in half and slid it across the counter for us to try -- on the house! When I took my first bite, that long ago memory of my father and grandfather’s New Year’s Eve pizza came right back. Gio’s pizza had a liberal sprinkle of grated cheese just like my family’s pizza had! And as we waited for our order, Gio’s sister cut a Sicilian slice and a Grandma slice in half and offered those to us as well. We shared three slices of pizza before we even left with the pizza we had ordered. I just had to give Gio a hug before we left.

At the end of the pizza event at the Brooklyn Historical Society, I went up to the host, Scott Wiener, the author of Viva La Pizza!: The Art of the Pizza Box. Scott is very well known for his pizza tours and his great love for pizza in general. I congratulated him on the evening and told him that my family had also had a pizzeria in Brooklyn many years ago. He seemed impressed by my story and handed me his card, asking me to email him with more details about the history of Pop’s. When I got home, I showed my son, Matthew, the card on which Scott is described as a "Pizza Enthusiast." “Mom, that could have been your title!” my son exclaimed. And with that, I would have to agree.