Pizza Review: Fiori's Pizzaria in Brookline

Fiori’s Pizzaria was founded in 1979 out in Brookline, Pennsylvania. It’s a few miles outside the city of Pittsburgh, but some would say it’s the top 99 of the top 100 reasons to drive through the a tunnel. Here’s a portion of the list right here:

  1. Fiori’s Pizzaria
  2. Fiori’s Pizzaria
  3. Leaving to greet the Pirates at the airport as they return from a World Series victory
  4. Fiori’s Pizzaria
  5. Fiori’s Pizzaria
  6. Fiori’s Pizzaria

It’s been hyped up to me since I started this blog. “Have you had Fiori’s? You’re not a pizza journalist if you haven’t.” Okay, maybe, but that’s not what my associates degree in Pizza Journalism says. The other day I recruited my pizza pal Adam to escort me into the greasy, bustling, cheesy den of Fiori’s Pizzaria.

There’s Adam with our prized pizza. Doesn’t it look like an angel? It emits a golden glow. The cheese is perfectly melted and the crust is perfectly browned as if spray painted by a top-tier food artist. Even at a slant the pizza grips to the pan with a sense of purpose. As if to say, “Only the chosen pizza eater can pull a slice from this ancient metal.” We must’ve been the chosen ones because when we were done there wasn’t a slice of pizza left behind to tell the tale of the Fiori’s Pizza Massacre.

So the pizza begins like you’d expect. You lift a slice into the air and gravity pulls down on the slice hungry for a piping hot meal. Not today gravity. Despite some cheese dripping off to the the side, the rest of the package is solid. There’s some give to the crust, but not enough that leads to a complete pizza breakdown. You could build a house on this crust except you’d have to worry about a sinking foundation in about three years. Which, all things considered, isn’t that bad. You know, for pizza. 

The cheese steals the show here. It’s goopy, delicious, and a bit sweet. The sauce is humble. It seems to exists only to keep the crust separated from cheese. Are they mortal enemies? Will the pizza implode if it weren’t for the sauce? Possibly (Sauceibly?). 

I spent a lot of time chewing through the cheese. If you’re familiar with Mineo’s then you have an idea of what Fiori’s taste like. I’d say that Fiori’s is more of a focused pizza; there isn’t a pool of grease and the cheese is easier to handle than a handful of ice cubes covered in olive oil. It’s a delightful experience.

But then you get to the crust and you begin to wonder what is it you’ve just put into your mouth. Your tastebuds feel betrayed. Was the rest of the slice just an illusion? How could 9/10ths of a pizza be near perfection but the handle taste like literally nothing. The crust has no flavor. At all. It’s just chewy matter. A simple handle so you don’t get cheese and grease on your hands. It’s better off being tossed to the side or recycled. It spoils a delicious pizza. Perhaps Fiori should work to build a pizza home out of the crust instead of having customers eat it?

The motto at Fiori’s is “We fix you up” and it’s certainly true. It’s some of the best pizza I’ve had (aside from the crust) and it’s the perfect pizza environment. There’s a pinball machine and a friendly staff. There’s a large window in the pizza-making area so you can watch the dough mature from flour and water into a pizza being. It’s a grand pizza experience and if you’re in the area you’d be a fool to not check it out. 

Pizza Interview: Bob, Founder of the Pittsburgh Pizza Parade

Somehow I ended up on meetup.com and the first thing I did was type in “pizza.” I do this on every new site I enter. Gotta test its mettle. In this case there was a legitimate result: The Pittsburgh Pizza Parade. Pittsburgh has a parade for all the major holidays, but if you don’t live in Bloomfield you’re missing out on a majority of them. This Pizza Parade is more accessible. The troup tromps through Pittsburgh to meet at pizza places and eat pizza. Then they roll their bloated pizza bodies back home. I guess the parade aspect takes place post eating; most attendees blow up to the size of floats.

I’m only kidding - you can’t actually turn into a parade float from eating pizza. Bob, the founder of the Pittsburgh Pizza Parade, was kind enough to answer some questions for me. He’s been around the block and knows way more about pizza than I do!

Pizza Walk With Me (PWWM): What is your history with pizza? I always find it interesting how people seem to always have a pizza story.

Bob: I have always enjoyed pizza growing up in the Italian family. On Friday nights my grandmother used to make homemade dough and we would have pizza as the men watched the fights on TV. This is when the Gillette sponsored music came on and that was the signal to serve the pizza. The dough was handmade and we would help kneed it  by punching, which was fun for young kids.  The pizza had a small amount of sauce and cheese, but we would always have anchovies or mushrooms or a lot of toppings. The men would drink Iron city or Rolling Rock beer with the pizza.  We never ate pizza out when I was young.

PWWM: Do you think there’s such a thing as a perfect slice of pizza? Or even the best pizza? There are almost too many variables to consider!

Bob: When I was in 8th grade my friends started going to Mineo’s pizza on Murray Avenue in Squirrel hill. This is still my favorite. Others swore by Vincent’s in Forest Hills. They are totally different styles with Mineo’s being thinner with substantial amount of cheese. Vincent’s is thicker and greasier with a wonderful way of chopping up the pepperoni on it.  It closed after he died recently, but I understand they are remodeling it to reopen.

PWWM: What is it about pizza that brings a group of people together?

Bob: I have had pizza every place in the world where I have gone.  I love it and it is my favorite food.   During my many trips to Italy I found the pizza there is very thin and served to individuals.  I much more prefer the sharing among the group of people.  This is why like the pizza groups.  It is an excellent source of community to share pizza and conversation.  

PWWM: What inspired you to start this pizza parade? Do you think it’s something that you could do with any food? Maybe hoagies? Or falafel? 

Bob: A few years ago I went to a pizza group called From A-Z.  They would schedule an evening at pizza shops starting an A then B and we would go through the alphabet.  I enjoyed the variety and had some excellent pizzas and met new people.  I decided in September to start it again on a weekly basis every Monday or Tuesday night.  These are slow times restaurants and a single people living alone enjoy the opportunity to get out and share some food and conversation.

Yes it would be easy to do that same type of meet up with fish sandwiches or any other type of food.  People are communal it like to gather to eat and talk. People want to meet new people.

PWWM: Do you think there’s such a thing as Pittsburgh Style Pizza?

Bob: I do not think that there is a specific pizza that is Pittsburgh style pizza.

You could argue that the pizza from around the Naples area which is not as thick as Sicilian and thicker than Roma but is in between and is more common in Pittsburgh. 

PWWM: How have you seen pizza evolve through the years? Or do you think it has stagnated?

Bob: I have witnessed the change generations of the Minneo’s

From the passage of Mr. Mineo’s to his sons in the enlargement and remodeling of the location. When we first went there there is no seating there’s a tiny counter at the window you could rest your pizza on.  We would go around the corner and sit on somebody’s steps and enjoy our pizza.

We were always careful to clean up after ourselves and place the empty wrapper some box in the trash.

PWWM: Why do you think pizza has weaved its way into American culture? 

Bob: I think pizza is so popular because it is inexpensive and easy to make it taste wonderful.

You can order by the slice or the pie.

Pizza shops are everywhere. Pizza is on most menus.

Pizza is forever.

Pizza Highlights of 2012: A Retrospective

pizza party

I don’t think that 2012 was ever deemed the official year of the pizza, but it certainly did its best to dominate the news cycle. I’m bias, but I don’t think there was another food (except Twinkies maybe) that made as many headlines. I covered a majority of those standout stories right here on Pizza Walk With Me so I thought it would be a great time to look back and remember the unofficial year of the pizza. 

What a peculiar list. From the largest pizza ever created to a museum dedicated to pizza paraphernalia, pizza hit the big time. I have no doubt that in 2013 we’ll see a number of pizza innovations. Whether that’s new technology, techniques, or records. The pizza community is bubbling with excitement and is poised to grow faster than dough injected with yeast and set to ferment at room temperature for 24 hours. To 2013: The Year of the Pizza!

World Record Alert: World's Largest Pizza Record Returns to Italy

On December 14, 2012, the Italians did what they do best: make pizza. Actually, made a very large pizza. The largest pizza to ever exist in the universe (as far as scientist can tell). The Italian people came together to create a 130 foot wide margherita pizza made from 19,800 pounds of flour, 8,800 pounds of tomato sauce, and 19,800 pounds of mozzarella. A delicious and amazing feat!

What is the most stunning about this is that the Italian people had to reclaim this record. For the last 22 years a grocery store in South Africa owned the title with a 122 foot wide pizza they built. For what reason? Probably to keep lions at bay. 

Five chefs came together to build the newest pizza and put to shame every other country on the map. They decided to name the pizza “Ottavia” to “symbolise the hope of a great economic and cultural revival,” Dovilio Nardi, one of the chefs, said. 

Nardi is on the right path. A pizza can symbolize many things, but its most potent and important meaning is that of coming together as one and destroying hardships (and pizza). When the going gets tough, the tough order a pizza. What spinach is to Popeye, pizza is to every human. A single slice can rejuvenate your faith in reality and give you the power to innovate and create. Every ounce of mozzarella and flour your body digest is a distilled chemical reaction that fuels your future. 

There’s some more photos and quotes at the Daily Mail if you can’t get enough of this saga. Congrats to all involved and here’s hoping to a 2013 full of pizza. 

Pizza Calculator from Ledo's Pizza

I don’t like Ledo’s pizza. It happens. For there to be great pizza, there has to be terrible pizza. It’s just the way the pizza world works. I think Ledo’s understands that pizza isn’t quite their strength so they’ve augmented their offerings with a “pizza calculator.”

You enter the number of pizza partiers and it’ll tell you an estimate of how many pizzas to order. Then multiply that by two or three for a true pizza party. 

Pizza Review: Lucci's Pizza in Squirrel Hill

Those lines. This pizza was sliced and diced with authority. Notice how the pizza doesn’t even try to bond back together like a symbiote or the Iron Giant. That’s a sign of a crispy, flaky crust that is waiting for you to ravage. It’s bold enough to stand on its own. “We don’t need those dirty other slices, we’re independent.” This Lucci’s pizza is thin, but capable. Like a lean cross country runner or a pole vaulter. Deceptive, yet satisfying. Wait, what do you mean you’ve never had Lucci’s Pizza? Oh, that’s right. It’s within a pizza’s throw of two very famous pizza shops that shine brighter than a hundred blessed pizzas.

Lucci’s stands very close to Mineo’s and Aiello’s which some may consider the finest in Pittsburgh. Which is fine, because Lucci’s offers a very different pie. Instead of an unhealthy  amount of cheese and grease, Lucci’s delivers a humble pie that believes in moderation. If this was an Indiana Jone’s situation, Doctor Jones would choose this pizza, the pizza of a carpenter. 

That might be the best way to describe Lucci’s Pizza. It’s comfortable. It’s nothing extravagant. It’s exactly how you would imagine a pizza would be. In a TV Script, when there’s a need for a pizza, the prop team would get a pizza from Lucci’s. It’s the pizza that would show up in clipart and that’s okay. It’s standard. 

The one thing that kind of sticks out is how crispy and crunchy the crust is. When you bite into the handle of the pizza it splinters into a thousand tiny bits of crust. It’s a surprise considering how calm and collected the rest of the pizza is. 

But the taste, flavor, and texture are exactly how you would imagine it to be. The cheese can land a bit on the heavy side, but the total package is nothing to flinch at. And when you put this pizza next to the somewhat absurd Mineo’s and Aiello’s, it works. It seems different when everything nearby is so over the top. 

Three out of five pizzas. 

PIZZA INTERVIEW: pppizza's Jenn Frank

The other day my pizza pal Justin was like “Hey, someone outside of Pittsburgh tweeted about pppizza. You should check it out.” I’m always sniffing out other pizza enthusiasts so I can pick their brain (which is hopefully made of pizza). After pulling back the pizza veil, I was stunned to find out it was none other than Jenn Frank! How incredibly exciting. 

In the following interview we discuss pizza in culture, video games, favorite pizza places, pizza therapy, and the eventual future of pizza. It’s an exciting trip and I hope you enjoy.

PizzaWalkWithMe (PWWM): Pizza! Why do you think pizza has wedged itself directly into the center of American culture?

Jenn: I actually have a very serious answer, and it pertains to this very American thing called “Odyssey Years.” Rather than entirely giving up on “childish things” we are, for the first time ever, permitting ourselves to defend our superficially-puerile loves (like pizza, or maybe other trashy “disposable” things like reality television) with very big, grown-up, and sometimes academically viable reasons. A big part of this is nostalgia: maybe you were really into Ninja Turtles, or maybe your hometown baseball team went out for pizza after games. I’m 30 now, so I remember transitioning from Reagan to Bush, Sr. The first war I remember is the Gulf War. My generation had a childhood colored by unrest, uncertainty, and a resounding, nameless malaise, which is a pretty far cry from the “Me generation” or “Generation X” preceding it. We inherited all these awful things, and we didn’t know how we’d caused them, kind of akin to growing up in a broken home. But then the U.S. enjoyed a boom of economic and technological hope and prosperity, and pizza became this cheap, frivolous, “oh, screw it” thing your family did on movie night. And then the 2000s happened, and all these university-educated people are leaving college for a hopelessly vacuous job market, and suddenly chain pizza becomes this economic “baby, we’re splurging tonight!” thing. And when you’re eating instant ramen every night, and then one night a month you’re ordering a pizza instead, that pizza really comforts you: “Hello, old friend.”

I think our love of pizza also speaks to a broader desire for authenticity and sincerity, and current popular culture is totally bereft of those qualities. Meanwhile, chain pizza places are like, “Guys, we finally figured out how to get a hot dog into your pizza crust,” and there is zero pretense that a pizza can be remotely healthful or beneficial.

It’s very subversive, actually. We grew up during a self-improvement fad, fitness fads, diet fads, all of which are culturally very hostile—it’s amazing that we’ve been able to manufacture and market self-loathing as adroitly as we have. So choosing to eat a pizza is this “oh, screw it” in a different way, too: you’re rejecting other people’s priorities when you order a pizza. It’s a political act, really. So pizza has embedded itself into American culture in all these ways. Its trajectory probably mirrors that of the hamburger’s, actually, except a pizza is meant to be shared, and if you are eating a pizza all by yourself, that’s, like, ultra subversive.

PWWM: What do you think about the regional attachment to pizza? A region’s love of their own pizza almost goes beyond patriotic.

Jenn: I’m going to tell you something pretty sacrilegious now: I am really into hot dogs. For my dollar, Chicago does the hot dog right. I am pretty into Ohio’s “Stadium mustard,” though, and I think New Orleans’ Lucky Dog is the best hot dog you can buy on the street. But I don’t really compare and contrast hot dogs because Chicago already has the best ones, even better than Nathan’s in New York. When you bite into a hot dog, you’re looking for a palpable edamame snap that—I’m sorry, let me regroup. Most of my readers already know I am a proud Chicagoan; as such, I’m always reluctant to admit that Chicago-style pizza is my least favorite of all pizzas. Of course I’m glad that Chicago has its own internationally-recognizable pizza identity. We’ve earned it! I just wish it weren’t a disgusting type of pizza, that’s all. And this basically expresses my attitudes regarding foreign policy: I’m proud of this identity, in a way, I’m just sorry it’s so disgusting. But if anyone were to ever tell me “Chicago’s pizza is disgusting,” I’d probably get really worked up, really angry. That’s the thing: we worked hard to be this gross! Our pizza has a story, a legacy! You have to respect it!

PWWM: What is your go-to pizza place?

Jenn: It varies. In San Francisco I always lazily picked “Extreme Pizza” just because, at the time, their website would take me to an opening flash montage with people snowboarding or skydiving, making the franchise too outrageous to not order from. In Chicago I have a couple favorites. I’m a longtime fan of O-Tomato, which offers really healthy foods and scrupulously ungreasy pizza (their BBQ Chicken pizza uses gouda). A close friend of mine recommended Peaquod’s, but that friend is also dead, so visit at your discretion. I live right by Coalfire and recommend it. One popular new pizza joint is Roots, but it’s too expensive to take a friend there unless you’re paying for her (AKA me). If you’re recording a podcast with friends you go to Piece. Then again, if you’re all the way over in Indiana, you hit up Pizza King, which by the way is where I played my first pinball machine.

PWWM: I agree with your Chicago pizza assessment. For me, it’s too much like eating cake and takes the fun out of ordering a large pie for yourself and impressing your friends by eating the whole thing in just one sitting. The thickness is a bit outlandish, like Chicago was so desperate to get into the pizza game they went the complete opposite route to make a name for themselves.

Jenn: Yeah, exactly. If “audaciousness,” or audacity or whatever, is a quality we seek in food—and I love a great gimmick, okay, so I’m not being ironic, I’m not saying turduckens aren’t splendid—Chicago-style pizza has it in spades. It is, if nothing else, an audacious idea. So I’m torn between being, like, super proud, and being very “who thought this was a good idea?”

PWWM:My brother lives in Chicago and has a habit of forcing me into a variety of pizza places when we visit. I’ve been to Peaquod’s and lived to tell the tale and Piece is one of my favorites.

Jenn: It seems like you’re based on the East Coast (?) so your distaste for Chicago-style pizza is forgiven, but I’m really glad you still have reasons to stop by the Midwest. Which is good because, if you’re a foodie, and particularly a foodie living on shoestrings, yes, we really do have the best food. That is something I’m not apologetic about. I mean, our Thai is only so-so, but listen, we have Ethiopian food. I am really into containing foodstuffs with some type of “bread handle,” say, pita or naan, and Ethiopian food uses this really amazing, porous flatbread I love, called Injera. It is fantastic.

Kirby Pizza

PWWM: One thing you mentioned was your first pinball machine experience was at a pizza place. I remember begging my grandma to take me to Pizza Hut not for the pizza, but because they always had a rotating cast of arcade cabinents. Ninja Turtles and Street Fighter II were staples for some time until the NeoGeo cabinets starting taking over their turf. Who could say no to a machine stuffed with multiple games? A lot of my early pizza memories are closely associated with video games in someway. Why do you think video games and pizza go so well together?

Jenn: This is a pretty interesting aside, yeah. Part of it has to be form and function. Gamers are notoriously into “handhelds,” and pizza and Lean Pockets are just two more types of handhelds, and really just fascinating technologies overall.

PWWM: What is your relationship with pizza and what made you want to start your pizza blog?

Jenn: I eat pizza when I am lazy or depressed—sometimes when I am celebrating something, too, but mostly those other times. I started my pizza blog because I am in the middle of a nervous breakdown. Since I am eating an awful lot of pizza right now, I thought talking endlessly about pizza might be a better use of all my nervous energies. What I’m discovering, though, is that we have something of a “tribe past” with pizza, and if I am really looking to forge a “human connection” with strangers, maybe talking about pizza is better shorthand than talking about our feelings outright.

PWWM: The ubiquity of “pizza parties” really speaks to your “tribe past” theory. Pizza is a common thread throughout get togethers, why do you think pizza cornered the market on that? Why haven’t any other foods come close? I suppose you can argue that the existence of “sliders” is just the burger industry trying to steal ground from pizza, but not very successfully.

Jenn: So, yeah. Pizza is physically a thing a group of people gather around. Like, we gather and literally break bread together.

I think a lot of food, really delicious food, does that for us. On the whole I’d say “family-style” Italian food has that market cornered, but dim sum, tapas, potlucks, and even Ethiopian food, they’re all excuses to take a group of people out and unite over something. And that’s great, when everyone is reaching for things, and arms and limbs are crossing impolitely and it becomes this mess of “oh, pardon me, no, you go first.” Even if it’s a pleasant eating experience, it’s still like a really pleasant shitshow. If I wanted to introduce strangers, I’d have them share food first, talk afterward.
So pizza is a “get-together” food, because you come together in kind of a formal way to eat a pizza, while hamburgers and sandwiches are solo foods. Like, you can offer me a bite of your hamburger, but only if we’re also married. I’m not a germaphobe or anything, but I’m very, “Er, that’s yours, you go ahead and keep that.”
I feel like, before the Internet, playing video games was this very social thing, where our arms “cross” and we’re trying our best to “take turns.” Now we use headsets for multiplayer or whatever, but even though we’re “dining” together, your co-op partner is sitting way over there, eating his own metaphorical hamburger. Does that make sense? It isn’t communal in the same way your best childhood friend’s living room felt communal, where playing Nintendo together had this overarching feeling of Thanksgiving dinner.

PWWM: When will there be a proper pizza video game? If there’s Burger Time, why isn’t there “pizza time”? There was even that pizza delivery game that was a precursor to Crazy Taxi, but no true pizza simulator. Some may argue that “The Noid” was as close as we got, and well, that’s just sad.

Jenn: My friend, there is already a pizza game. It’s called “Pizza Tycoon,” and it spawned two sequels. I’ve written about food-oriented video games before and, no, I don’t understand the industry’s burger fixation at all.

PWWM: When it comes to pizza what do you feel is the most important aspect?

Jenn: That vegetable toppings are not underdone. I don’t mind a burnt crust, or a doughy one, or too much or too little cheese, but I really do not appreciate a raw vegetable on top. If anything, I’d prefer everything limp and wilted. I guess I prefer too little tomato sauce to too much, but that’s one flaw I’m willing to overlook.

PWWM: Do you think the Wii U will use its built in NFC capabilities to maybe pioneer pizza/video game connectivity? I can see Activision bankrolling that.

Jenn: Speaking as a goddamn professional, Dan, we don’t know that much about Near Field Communication right now, and it’s hubris to even speculate. I will say, though, that the gamepad is said to work up to 26 feet from the console—this is a pretty audacious claim, and only time will tell. Still, I never travel farther than 11 feet from my television with a slice of pizza, which is to say, my pizza and video games are already communicating in a “Near Field.”

PWWM: Do you think Sony and Microsoft will include a voucher for a free pizza with their new consoles to help boost sales? Seems like a surefire tactic.

Jenn: Pizza chain tie-ins used to work, just because they were clever and well-made. Yesterday I mentioned those Pizza Hut ‘Land Before Time’ promo toys to my best childhood friend, and she realized she remembered them and freaked out. And she said something like, it isn’t my imagination? I’m not nostalgic for a bygone era? And I reassured her she is not. Like, Pizza Hut really did give you great things in exchange for settling for their pizza.

And here I’m running a major risk for going off on a weird tangent, but “brand loyalty,” the concept of that, has really changed since the '80s and '90s: there’s no social transaction, the consumer isn’t benefiting anymore. It’s become so one-way. And the very concept of the “coupon” is weak! My best childhood friend uses them, to the point of neuroticism, but have you ever cashed in on an IOU like that? I haven’t. But now every company drops a bafflingly worthless coupon right into their packaging. You don’t have to do anything special to *get* something special anymore. It’s all so disposable. What I’m saying is, if a free pizza falls in the Sony forest, would anyone care?

PWWM: Where do you see pizza heading in the future? How will it evolve? Or is this it?

Jenn: Please, please let this be it. We have Pizza Bagels and Triscuit Pizzas, P'Zones and Pizza Cones, none of which improve on the form. But anytime you say, “Well, we’ve finally topped ourselves,” some jerk takes it as his cue to pop in with his cultural contribution, and it’s almost always some great new Suicide Machine. I’m going to tell you right now, Dan, Pizza Hut’s new Overstuffed Pizza is incredibly horf-worthy. Pass.

PWWM: I’m with you, but I think that pizza has to evolve just a tad. A Pikachu can’t stay a Pikachue forever, know what I mean? I think we’ll see a government funded program that bakes important nutrients and chemicals into their pizzas. Like fluoride in water. Same thing. Our taxes will go to make Pizza with our daily dose of calcium, protein, and an experimental government ingredient that makes every other pizza taste disgusting so we’re forced to only eating the public option pizza. Thoughts?

Jenn: Oh, man. Food and litigiousness and policing and all that really irk me. I’m a traditional person generally, but I’m also socially liberal, so yeah, I’m a big believer in letting other people pick what they consume, even if it’s garbage, because I expect to have the same right. Maybe minor things like taking soda machines out of public schools, those seem okay, but I don’t know, man, it’s such a slippery slope.

I’m not okay with dosing tap water with Fluoride, for instance, maybe just because it seems so soylent green to me. I feel like I’m starting to get sort of self-serious with a funny question, but I really demand transparency when it comes to sugars and additives or whatever. I mean, I’ll still eat crap, but I like having the option of making an educated, bad decision.