Pizza Review: Fazio's White Pizza in Bloomfield

I’m a big fan of the traditional cheese/red sauce/crust pizza. Nothing fancy. If a pizza can’t hold its own when it comes to the pizza triforce, it’ll never be good. Ingredients piled on only serve to trick the eater into making them think they’re eating something better than they are. 

I bring this up because I recently visited Fazio’s pizza on Penn Ave in Bloomfield to eat their white pizza. I normally shy away from pizza that doesn’t have that red sauce fueling its tastiness. It’s like the life blood of the pizza. Without red sauce it’s like eating a pizza that perished. A vampire pizza of some kind that’s been resurrected after 200 years. Something is just off and there’s an uncomfortable amount of garlic. But the owner of Fazio’s, Jon Fazio, told me that his favorite pizza is their white pizza. It’s a staple. Everyday they create the “white pizza mixture” by hand. It’s something he’s very proud of and I had to eat it to believe it.

I recruited John Carman, local Italian expert, to help me conquer this fabled white pizza. Would it satisfy our hunger? Or, like Captain Ahab, would we come away from this experience unsatisfied and spend the rest of our lives finding the white pizza that Jon Fazio whispered in my ear. 

We ordered a large white pizza from Mr. Fazio. There was some hesitate before we dove deep into the depths of this white pizza. We looked at the pie and returning our hungry gaze were images of ourselves. Below the diced tomatoes, ricotta, mozzarella, and oregano, was a shimmering layer of grease. Precious grease that would line our gullets as we slipped slice after slice down our throats.

The ingredients were fresh and each bite was accompanied with a flood of flavor. It was peculiar at first. Finally a white pizza that satisfies. Then a kind of melancholy set in. I had hyped it up to myself and thought about this white pizza for so long that its extraordinary mixture of toppings failed to meet my expectations after the second slice. While it’s not strong enough to be a staple in a pizza diet, it’s worth eating just once. Like a pizza tourist attraction. 

Oh, and bring some napkins, cause this thing gets crazy greasy.

Beat the Heat With Ice Cold Pizza

It’s Summer time and the only savior we have from that horrid sun shining its gloriously hot light onto our feeble bodies is the cold. Ice cold if possible. The notion of embracing the cold is counter to the pizza fundamentals. Piping hot pizzas sprout from ovens that seem to have channeled the power of Hell. The most uncomfortable environment to be in on a sweltering Summer day.

You’re sipping on your iced coffee, huddled by the air conditioner wonder where pizza has a place this season. I got you, pal. You should know by now that pizza always has a place. I was searching for some pizza dough recipes and found a recipe for cold fermented pizza. The crutch of this dough is that every aspect is chilled to a refreshingly cold temperatures. My typo “00” flour sat in the freezer for a few hours and the water I added to the recipe was a crisp 40 degrees Fahrenheit. 

From what I’ve gathered, cold fermented pizza returns a crispier outer crust. It’s thin and parallels what Italy devours on the regular. It’s a departure from the recipes that require the dough to rise at room temperature for four hours and the yeast to dance with a warm cup of water before rising. 

The recipe resulted in a hefty amount of dough, dough that was a bit too soft for my liking. While it was spinning helplessly in my mixer I added more flour to get it to come together, but the results were still syrupy. On the plus side it’s soft and a pleasure to hold. Is there a possibility that these dough balls could double for kids toys? When the child is bored of playing with the dough you turn it into dinner. That’ll teach them to leave their toys around the house!

Here’s what the dough looked like after all was said and done. It’s sitting in my fridge as we speak. Surprising no one, they haven’t risen an inch. I’m worried, but I’ll put my faith in the pizza gods. They’ve yet to steer me wrong on this pizza pie we call life. 

Pizza Goals for the Week of June 24

While I’m still wandering around Pittsburgh as its local pizza dumpster, I feel like I’ve done a poor job of providing coverage and entertainment. I’m really worried about the tiniest demographic who can’t read the newspaper because there’s no pizza coverage. Can’t turn on the TV or YouTube because there aren’t any pizza videos. Can’t open their mailbox because there’s no pizza in it. Don’t worry, I’m hoping to pick up the slack.

Here’s some pizza content you can expect in the coming week.

• Video Q&A will be returning. You can submit a pizza question for me to answer here.
• I’ll try and reach out to someone in the pizza community for an interview. Maybe Jeff Varasano? 
• Pizza review of Fazio’s white pizza!
• A pizza haiku. 
• Pizza news as it happens.

So get hyped up! Keep the links coming my way and if you have any pizza suggestions don’t hesitate to ask. Lots of great pizza content coming your way in the next week. Tell your friends.

Pizza Review: Mercurio's Neapolitan Melts in Your Mouth

It was a bright and sunny Father’s day, and all through the town, not a creature was stirring, not even a clown. The heavens were calm and the birds did chirp. If I didn’t know any better I could have sworn they did burp. This Father’s day I took my dear ol’ dad down the street. We would go to a place where pizza we would eat. Mercurio’s fine pizza! Neapolitan style! I just hope we wouldn’t have to wait a while.

We entered the shop with empty tummies, and as soon as we got in we could smell something yummy. The scent of gelato mixed with the burning pizza oven, if I had died and gone to heaven, well, this is no coven. We took our seats in an alcove to dine and noticed that there was an abundant menu which included some wine.

To start things off we ordered some bruschetta, we ate it as though it held our vendetta. The tomatoes mixed with the soft cushy cheese, unfortunately the bread buckled at the knees. It wasn’t able to support such toppings, so what remained were plenty of tomato droppings. Yet, it was refreshing and cool, with a bit of a crunch. Would I order it again? Maybe for lunch. 

The pizzas were vast and as far as the eye, I could tell you now that this is where I’d want to die. There were simple pies made with the basic of cheese, and extraordinary delights that would certainly appease. I stuck with the basics and ordered one margherita,  while my dad ordered the primavera con carne-a.

My pizza arrived warm and gooey. I put a slice in my mouth and found it chewy. It’s buttery base sizzled my senses, but the pizza was worth the humble expenses. So simple and clean with moderate cheese, this is the pizza that blesses my dreams. It’s tasty and firm and is gone too soon, it’s the only type of pizza that can make me swoon. 

So what are you waiting for? A groupon or more? Don’t walk to Mercurio’s, but run or soar! Their pizza is as legit as any I’ve had, and if you never taste it, well, that’s just too bad.

Why wouldn't you pay $450 for a lobster pizza? →

Those near British Columbia, Canada have the pleasure of purchasing a pizza for a mere $450. It’s worth it since its main ingredient is lobster. Next to the lobster is black alaska cod and a side of Russian Oserta cavia. I think that latter ingredient is trying to somehow replace the garlic dipping sauce.

Decadent doesn’t even beging to describe this pizza. Savory toppings combine with expert craftsmanship to deliver a piping hot pie that will melt your wallet as well as your tastebuds. 

Will this cause some pizza inflation? I hope so! Pizza, a food that was meant for poor people in the street, owes it to itself to brush shoulders with the finer folks and, more importantly, the finer dishes. Pizza, all dressed up in his tuxedo, would arrive at the prestigious food dinner party nervous for his first adult venture. Before knocking on the large oak doors he would clean his monocole and straighten his bow tie. He was never very good at putting himself together. He’d enter, bumbling at first, then find his stride as he passed Spam the butler. Pizza would ask for a drink of the finest variety (vodka and maraschino cherries), and survey the room for the glitz and glamour. Feigning boredom, pizza would take out his Mad Libs. Across the way, Lobster would saunter up to pizza. The rest would be history.

Pizza Vending Machine Heading to America →

Back in December I wrote about a magical machine that turned money into pizza. The pizza vending machine. It’s the closest man kind has come to alchemy. At the time, the Pizza Vending Machine made its home in the Netherlands and throughout Europe. Which is ideal since pizza is so hard to find there that the convenience of this machine really made sense. I’m sure a lemon and olive oil machine are in production as we speak.

Meanwhile, across the lake Americans have struggled in the absence of a pizza making machine. We’ve streamlined the process to an online interface and mobile apps, but even that isn’t convenient enough. For months we’ve glared across the lake, shaking our flabby fists at the Netherlands. We’ve cursed their innovation and held protests to have the pizza vending machines stationed here. Finally, they’ve heard us which means the Occupy Movement can subside.

A1 Concepts, the company behind the machine, hopes to open a headquarters in Atlanta, Georgia and begin to distribute the pizza vending machine throughout the United States. By making a home in Atlanta, I just hope that Varasano’s doesn’t feel the robotic squeeze.

Welcome to America, Pizza Vending Machine.

Pizza Review: The Holiest of Pizza, Church Fair Pizza

Walking through Bloomfield is hardly predictable. The streets are lined with roaming characters with no destination and I’m not sure they know how they got to the Little Italy of Pittsburgh. Pizza and hoagie shops see a rotating cast of patrons that stumble by the plethora of outdoor seating occupying the sidewalk. One night a live band might be playing on a street corner, the next night there could be a farmer’s market. Every trip through Bloomfield is like walking through a mystical alley where you might bump into a man selling magic lamps. 

On this particular night there was a church festival. Sprouting out of nothing, the Immaculate Conception church festival was a bastion of neon, fried foods, gambling, instant bingo, and pizza. Pizza I can only assumed has been blessed in some way.

Pizza partner, Christa, and I wandered around the booths before stumbling on the pizza. The usual suspects were there: the money wheel, instant bingo, funnel cake, a DJ playing top 40 hits, Angry Birds, and cheap stuffed animals that were guaranteed to rip open after settling into a child’s bed. 

The pizza booth was selling pizzas for only $1. I’d be a fool not to participate. Buying a slice first meant visiting the ticket booth to exchange my american dollars for the preferred currency of the church festival, tickets.

The exchange went smoothly even though the ticket lady was baffled I was only getting $1 worth of food. I went to the pizza booth and handed them my ticket in exchange for a square of pizza that just popped out of their suite of ovens.

The three ovens sat behind the ladies working the booth waiting to cook pizzas like church patrons waiting to in line to receive a sacrament. I’m not sure of the logistics behind this oven technology, but that can’t possibly be safe, can it? One wrong jostling and you have a gas leak. Combine that with a couple open flames and the church festival becomes a hellish battleground. It’s outside, thank goodness, but ovens weren’t meant for the elements. I’m impressed by their craftiness and really want to try this for myself. Coming soon to Mintwood St, outside ovens.

Anyways, the pizza. It was square, gooey, and surprisingly crisp and doughy at the same time.

It was fairly undercooked which I wouldn’t hold against these little squares. Instead of three separate levels of pizza (crust, sauce and cheese) it all conforms into one limp rectangle. It tends to buckle under its own weight, but if you manage to get it into your mouth in one piece you'll experience a kind of tenderness reserved for the finest of meats. The softness gives your jaw a workout, like chewing a piece of gum, but it packs enough flavor that you don’t grow tired of hosting it in your mouth. It’s all very basic and elementary, but there was a simple joy in eating a cheap slice of pizza surrounded by neon lights and carnival games that may or may not take a dozen people lives during the course of this festival. 

I can recommend this pizza with one caveat: don’t eat it outside of the festival. The pizza is an embodiment of the rag-tag church event. The amateurism of the pizza goes unnoticed compared to the old women tending to the instant bingo or the kids begging their parents for one more handful of funnel cake.