On my way out of the hospital I took a quick detour to Pizza Taglio. Tony was spending his Christmas Eve going rogue and making the opposite of Neapolitan pizza - Brooklyn Style pies. I don’t know what inspired this, or why he chose this night of all nights to create a spinoff pie, but I’m glad he did. The holidays are stressful enough as it is. Family affairs, picking out the perfect gift, fretting about the smallest details. A pizza can dissolve that stress. It melts it away like the precious, slightly salty, mozzarella that dons the pizza.
Tony’s Brooklyn Style pizza was heavily charred, but did not taste of char. It was oddly decorative. The pizza was big, greasy and the perfect amount of sloppy. A departure from the typical manicured Neapolitan pizza he’s used to churning out day after day. Maybe for him this was a way of breaking some rules, trying something new and festively rebelling.
If I recall, I got that pizza, went home by myself, ate a few slices and wavered back and forth about bringing the pizza to the party. I decided against it. While the spirit of the season is giving, I didn’t want to complicate a set menu with a foreign pizza entry. To upstage the smelts is a cardinal sin of the seven fishes.
October 30, 2019 - A Pre-Baby Date Night
Adjacent to Pizza Taglio has been a revolving door of restaurants / bars. On my final documented trip to Pizza Taglio, Lorelei had taken up residence. Lorelei is a stunning bar, serving up pilsners and an assortment of high quality beers, stunning cocktails and some of the best pretzels I’ve ever had the privilege of dipping into beer cheese.
On this fateful day, I was killing time while waiting for Christa to finish her haircut. We were going to get dinner afterward and her hair appointments have a habit of running slightly over, but on this day it didn’t matter. On this day I prayed her haircut never ended. Because this night at Lorelei was Kolsch night which means the chill, refreshing Kolsch was a special price and the bartenders would refill your glass without exchanging a single word. It’s the perfect system, a system perfected in Europe and, I hope, picking up steam here. There wasn’t a single second that I yearned for Kolsch and it wasn’t available.
This was during my Kickstarter campaign to get my pizza book printed. You can still grab a digital copy here if you’re interested, but pizza was on my mind. After loitering at Lorelei, Christa finished up her haircut and I paid my Kolsch bill and we went off to Pizza Taglio.
Christa was pregnant with our daughter, Charlie, at this time so I guess this was technically her first time eating Pizza Taglio.
Little did I know this would be the final time I would visit the interior of Pizza Taglio.
We settled into our seats at Pizza Taglio. We ordered the Green Pointer like we have done so many times before. It was habitual, a mild addiction. The cheese was globbier than usual, the soppresata provided the perfect amount of heat couple with the hot ones.
The Greenpointer is a perfect because because it always found a way into my life at the right time. It would mold itself to whatever I needed from it, always giving me the ideal pizza experience that I needed. Maybe that’s more of the Pizza Taglio magic. It was impossible to get a bad pizza there because every pizza felt like it was specially made for you. And I guess it was. Tony stood vigil at his oven, watching over his customers as they imbibed, laughed and ordered pizza.
Tony could see the orders coming in, who ordered it, and assess their mood. Knowing the great emotional weight food carries, Tony perfectly curated each and every pizza that came out of that oven, tailor fit for consumption by their new owner. At least that’s the tall tale version of Taglio I want to believe. A Pecos Bill legend of magnitude that will never be matched.
Did the quality change from the first to last pie at Pizza Taglio? I can’t imagine, maybe things were slightly different, but it was always spectacular. If I were to chart the pizza over time it would be an almost flat line graph. That might sound like an insult, but from start to finish Taglio was a premium pizza product. It was consistently perfect, astonishing, and inspiring. I don’t know how you improve on that formula.
In Summary
I didn’t know the right way to pay homage to Pizza Taglio, but this exercise seemed like something only I could provide. Plotting out all my visits to Pizza Taglio charts how my life was intertwined with Pizza Taglio. It was the head quarters for so many family trips, special occasions and celebratory moments.
Pizza Taglio was a keystone in my life. 17 visits over four years means I was at Pizza Taglio every fiscal quarter, gobbling up a couple of Green Pointers every two and a half months on average. Obviously, that year gap really killed my average, but impressive none the less.
Pizza is more than a Friday night food. It’s at the center of so many of life’s moments. Pizza Taglio was certainly that for me and I’ll miss it dearly. It was the perfect balance of quality and casual, worth the wait and a place you could bring your best friend or your arch enemy.