Pizza Review: The Church Brew Works

A few blocks away from my home is the one place that every visitor in Pittsburgh wants to go. It’s not Primanti’s, thank goodness, but the Church Brew Works. It’s schtick is that the owners desecrated a church and turned it into a brewery. They even de-holyfied the altar! What was once a beautiful building is now a beautiful building you can drink at without having to play Simon Says with a man in a robe. I suppose you could still do that, but it’s not mandatory.

The Church Brew Works boasts several large brewing cylinders behind the altar so you know they aren’t messing around. I’m sure they’re filled with the holy spirit of drinking because their beer is delicious. And once you get those spirits in you, you’re gonna want to eat something. And boy howdy, they have pizza there! Isn’t that the darndest? 

A few people, whether it’s at parties or on the Internet, have raved to me about the pizza at Church Brew Works pizza. I play coy when this happens. I shrug my shoulders and wave my hands around to distract them from my disdain, the same way a magician  does to trick his audience. The problem is that the Church Brew Works is such an institution that I don’t want to say bad things about this “critically acclaimed” pizza. But, so it goes. 

A few weeks ago my friend Dan was in town. He’s pictured above. As you can see his mouth is filled with some of The Church Brew Work’s pizza. We ordered the Portobello Pesto Pizza which was topped with portobello mushrooms, basil pesto, red onion, kalamata olives, provolone and parmesan cheese. In my mind the combination of these ingredients swirl together to create a flavor so precious and delicious that it would be an honor for tastebuds to take part. Unfortunately, when the pizza arrived it was anything but.

The ingredients teamed up to create something so salty and overpoweringly bad that getting through this pizza was a task even Hercules would refuse. It was as if a bumbling chef knocked over a container of miscellaneous ingredients onto this pizza. Instead of cleaning things up and thinking about the combination he just let it be because, “I’m not getting paid enough for this." 

The crust was okay, but I think I’m just searching for something nice to say at this point. The pizza was truly a cacophony of chaos that I wouldn’t recommend trying unless eating it was to pay off a debt or ransom. This was the same situation when I had the four-cheese pizza a year or so ago. It was just a mess that not even I could manage. I’m not sure why they can’t play it cool and offer a pizza that isn’t a combination of whatever is within reach.

I guess when you turn a place of worship into a place of dining, you’re bound to be struck with a curse. It’s a shame that the curse couldn’t have been on the fish sandwich. 

Pizza Interview: Joe Hunter of Pizza Brain

Have you heard of Pizza Brain? It’s a scientific Kickstarter aimed at filling our brains with pizza. Well, pizza knowledge. There’s a troupe of guys in Philadelphia who are as fanatical, if not more so, than me about pizza. Their logical route of action? Start a pizzeria/pizza museum. It’s a great endeavor that will preserve a wealth of pizza memorabilia that would otherwise end up stuffed in some guys broken pizza oven, right next to his secret pizza recipe, and dreams. 

I had to know what inspired these people, so I contacted Joe Hunter, the person behind the food at Pizza Brain. Enjoy the interview that explores what makes pizza pizza, what a pizza shop needs to do to survive, and the future of pizza!

Pizza Walk With Me (PWWM): What is this project all about? Why this and not a hoagie museum? Or a burrito museum?

Joe Hunter (JH): Funny you ask, Dan. Pizza Brain at the heart is all about bringing people together. Sure, we have a really neat pizza memorabilia collection, but our passion is probably more about the power of pizza. Pizza is the unifying food. It’s something everyone can get behind. We want to use that pizza power to get people together to make a positive space in a neighborhood and city that we care a lot about. We aim to practice sustainable techniques and to include many local sources on our menu. Over time, we hope to be able to help empower people by helping start new small businesses with knowledge we’ve gained, and hopefully capital we will have gained through this project. 

PWWM: What does pizza mean to you? Like, what makes pizza pizza. Is it the crust? Sauce? Cheese?

 JH: Not to cop out on the answer, but it’s all of that stuff. If one lacks, the whole pie lacks. If they’re all there together in harmony, you’ll get that wide eyed, “Wow,” people get when they taste truly great food. 

PWWM: What is your pizza past? Were you raised by pizzas? If so, how do you deal with eating pizza?

 JH: Brian and I especially grew up with this awareness of pizza in our pop culture. Ninja Turtles, Home Alone, Wayne’s World, etc. Pizza was actually the first word I wrote down. I wrote it on this arts & crafts tambourine made from beans and paper plates. Ever since, it’s been my favorite food to eat, especially because everyone has their own take on it.

PWWM: What kind of pizza will you be serving at this restaurant? Will you be doing crazy toppings? Or playing it safe with some margherita? 

 JH: All kinds. We will definitely serve the classics that people have grown to love like the margherita, and build your own, but I think we’re more excited about pizza with really creative taste combinations. Some may be reminiscent of a salad, a soup, a breakfast dish, an ethnic dish, a dessert, or just something we’ve pulled out of the ether. 

PWWM: How does a new pizza place begin to differentiate itself this day and age? Do you think they’re forced to go out on a limb and play with the pizza formula? Seems like many of the pizza places that last have been there for years and have regular customers.

 JH: I feel like some of the popular places that have started up in the past 5-10 years are really riding this wave of bringing classical Neapolitan pizza to the forefront in America, using a dome style wood fired oven and predominately imported Italian ingredients. I think those places are great, but I tend to prefer something a little more pragmatic, local, and delivery friendly. I think family places in neighborhoods have an edge in that department and it’s no wonder why they last. Good, familiar, and affordable pizza is something your average person wants to have close to them. 

 PWWM: Have you seen this pizza sleeping bag? Would you sleep in it?

JH: No! But Yes!

PWWM: Do you have a favorite pizza?

JH: As far as topping/flavor combos, I feel as though I’m fond of so many, it’s really hard to choose. I’ll tell you this much, my favorite place (and all the partners of Team Pizza Brain agree) is Di Fara in Midwood Brooklyn.  Dom makes a truly transcendent pie, toppings or not. I prefer no toppings with him, just so you can really taste the work of art that his plain pie is.

PWWM: How much of a successful pizza shop is building community? Maybe I’m inserting to much of myself in this interview, but I really do think that pizza is a community activity. I mean, it’s “Pizza Party” not “Panini Party.”

JH: I swear I didn’t read ahead in this interview! You just said our mantra. It’s all about community. That’s one of the reasons I don’t want to do slices. We want to encourage people to eat together. The partnership of Pizza Brain itself came from relationships formed in our faith community here in Philadelphia called Circle of Hope. We feel like life is better shared with others and that with a vehicle like Pizza Brain, we can really be a catalyst to building inclusive and authentic community.

PWWM: Is there such a thing as “Philadelphia pizza”? If so, what is it?

JH: You know, there are a few guys like Tacconelli’s, Lorenzo’s, Lazaro’s and a few others that have a bigger name around town. As you can see, they’re all Italian last names, and they all fallow pretty traditional approaches. They’re pretty great. I suppose Philly in general has a very Northeast American approach to pizza- not unlike New York. Usually larger pies, floppy slices, traditional toppings and no frills aesthetics. Speaking of New York though- did you know that Philadelphia has more pizza shops per capita than New York? FACT!

PWWM: Where do you see the future of pizza and pizza shops going?

 JH: Hopefully people in the pizza biz continue to be creative and have fun. Like you, Dan, and my partner Brian like to say- Pizza is the only food synonymous with the word ‘party.’ I hope that pizza shops around the globe realize the power they possess and use to it be community hubs in their respective towns. Lots of them already are. I know that places I’ve been a part of in the past have sponsored youth sports teams and donated to local charities. Hopefully our idea of sending people off to chase their dreams and start their own businesses will catch on.

Marc Vetri's Mortadella Pizza →

To be honest, I don’t know the exact reason why pizza dough does the things it does. I get that you need yeast for it to rise, but I’ve yet to block out a whole week and convert a shed from a rundown meth lab into a pizza lab to test out all my pizza theories. 

This recipe seems pretty complex and maybe it’s worth it, but I’ll tell you that this recipe from Emeril does wonders with some 00 flour. Regardless, I’ll test out Mr.Vetri’s recipe and let you know how it goes.  

Sfincione Super Bowl Pizza

I’m worried that I found my go-to pizza so young in my pizza career. Above, you’ll see the Sfincione pizza I made to celebrate America and its Super Bowl. It’s probably the same pizza I’ll make for every celebration in my life. It’s a delicious pizza I made once before for New Years. Fortunately, this time I did much less drinking before hand so I actually remembered to take photos of this darling.

  

Here’s the pizza waiting in the oven for its debut. “Man, is it hot in here or is it the oil coating this pan and this preheated iron skillet I’m sitting in?” it asked. It’s true. I did coat the bottom of the skillet with oil, but that’s why it gets so crispy on the outside. This thing contains more olive oil than the floor of aisle 9 after a display rack of oil is knocked over by a temperamental toddler. Alas, it’s the price you pay for deliciousness. On top of the pizza are bread crumbs (which were soaked in olive oil), tomato sauce, and mozzarella cheese. I sprinkled some parmesan cheese on at one point, but I’m not sure it made a dent in the taste.

 

When I pulled this out of the oven I felt as if I were Marco Polo presenting a new country to a queen. It was my proudest moment and I foresaw civilization starting anew with this pizza. It was the perfect amount of crispness on the outside and fluffy on the inside. Its thickness would rival any sicilan, but when biting into it I didn’t have to worry about crumbs exploding all over my carpet. It’s the perfect pizza.

Go pizza. Go steelers. Go america.

Quick Stats: How Does Papa John's Handle the Super Bowl?

The coin toss was heads which means that if you were singed up for the Papa John’s reward thing you’ll be getting some free pizza and some PEPSI MAX. Exciting! Who doesn’t like free pizza? 

I do have an insider at Papa John’s and they relayed to me some Papa John’s information:

  • They’re handling 125 orders a minute
  • They received 45,000 orders between 5 to 6
  • They received 31,000 orders between 6 to 7

Things should be heating up at half-time so cross your fingers that Papa John’s can handle the traffic. Also, if you’re reading this, why aren’t you making your own pizza you dummy?

Go steelers.

Two Amy's Pizza in DC

Thanks to the splendid Christa Cardone for sharing her pizza story.

I feel bad for not sharing this beauty with you sooner. If you have not been, get in your car immediately, drive to our nation’s capital, and get thee to Two Amy’s. Their pizza is D.O.C., which basically means it is deemed legally awesome by the Italian government. You can learn more about that here.

Pizza Review: Bella Notte in the Strip

It was my first day at a brand new job. I was meeting new people, sharing details about my life, and planning some great stuff with an exciting new company. Within the first few hours I exhausted nearly all topics of conversation dealing with pizza. My coworkers knew I was obsessed with the combination of crust, sauce, and cheese. So, on my inaugural lunch outing the question wasn’t if we were going to eat pizza, but where.

I had to impress these people. I’d be working with close proximity with them and any irritation I caused now would come back to haunt me weeks later. By choosing the wrong pizza place, I would not only forfeit my chances of getting a ping-pong table in the office, but I would face a similar fate to the nazi soldier who chose the ornate chalice in the Steven Spielberg classic film, Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade. 

Without hesitation I chose Bella Notte. Bella Notte sits in the middle of the strip and is surrounded by every ethnicity of food and the leading supplier of Italian goods. I had confidence that their ingredients would be fresh and the Italian expertise would have invaded their kitchen via osmosis. My pizza fantasy faded as we walked through the door greeted by “Top Forty” music that had as much business being in a pizza shop as a horse riding on an asteroid to Horseopolis. 

After looking through the menu my coworkers decided it would be best to venture in our separate directions, like officers of the law searching for an escaped convict, and order individual slices. The slices cost more than you’d bargain for in Pittsburgh, but you’re actually purchasing an “investment slice” (that’s what I call a slice of pizza so large that it keeps your stomach occupied until dinner).

The special that day was the margarita and who was I to turn down a pizza that claimed it was made with fresh tomatoes, basil, and mozzarella? When the pizza arrived I was confused as to why the basil looked so wilted and forlorn. Whatever basil flavor once inhabited the leaf had evaporated in the ovens. Why they cooked the basil in the oven is beyond me. Shame on these people for treeing such a delicate herb with reckless abandon. I was then stuck with a pizza coated with thick mozzarella that was topped with weeds that my grandmother would be embarrassed to have in her yard. 

Supporting the cheese and sauce was a sturdy crust that crumbled with a single bite. The brittle and charred flavored of the crust wasn’t advertised, but certainly played a large role in the pizza. It was hard to taste the elements of the pizza while my tastebuds were dealing with the blackened debris that could just as easily exploded out of a volcano. 

My one partner, Justin, who ordered a slice of pepperoni, could not finish his. I’m not sure if it’s because of the stick of pepperoni they shredded atop his slice, or he wasn’t mentally prepared for the colossal triangle on his plate. 

I applaud their effort to provide Pittsburgh with “investment slices,” but the pizza fundamentals can use a bit of work. As far as the Strip goes, this may be the best in the area, but it’s not worth traveling away from Bloomfield or Squirrel Hill for a slice.

Three pizzas out of five.

Pizza Review: Graziano's in Bloomfield

“JF,” I shouted, “There’s this place up the street that sells a large sicilian pizza for $7 on Tuesday." 

"My lord,” JF replied, “You’ve got to be pizza-kidding me.”

“No,” I shouted, “I am not pizza-kidding you, and to be pizza-frank, I don’t think I can legally do that as a pizza-journalist.”

“As someone who’s not your lawyer, you’re probably right,” JF replied.

And that’s the motivation behind trying out Graziano’s in Bloomfield. You may also know this as a the pizza place that glares at the Brillobox across the street, jealous of their cliental. From the outside, it’s not the most welcoming pizza place, but that’s what makes going on pizza adventures so swell. A reason to go into those dank pizza spots hoping that their ovens contain that golden pizza that will unite your tastebuds in a utopian symphony. 

Unfortunately, the my tastebuds were barely inspired to whistle after eating Graziano’s pizza.

I’ve been meaning to try more Sicilian pizzas in the wild ever since Mineo’s put its spell on me, and when I saw that incredible deal on pizza at Graziano’s I couldn’t resist. Unfortunately, I had the deal wrong. When I called up the establishment I asked if they were crazy enough to be selling Sicilian pizzas for $7. It turns out they aren’t that crazy and I’d be paying full-price. 

Their Sicilian pizza is basic and unappealing. Never would you see this pizza in a Pizza Museum and it’s certainly not winning any awards for ingenuity. It is as banal as you can get. Pizza is a great medium to experiment with, and it’s too bad that Graziano’s is no longer inspired to put forth the effort to dazzle customers with their pizza prowess. I bit into this Sicilian and I could have sworn the pizza cried out, “Meh." 

By the time I got through two pieces the pizza had lost any semblance of heat. The pizza was so boring that its temperature couldn’t have been bothered to linger. The dough was manageable and the sauce was from a can and the pizza was a thing. It was the type of thing you’d purchase accidentally due to the amount of alcohol in your body. It’s not until you wake up the next morning and see the empty box would you feel the grease of shame working its way through your intestines. 

Graziano’s isn’t something I’d recommend you travel more than five blocks for. With a proximity so close to Fazio’s, it’s a wonder why anyone wouldn’t just go there. The hours? I’m not sure. Perhaps their regular pizza is better.

Two pizzas out of five.