Some photos from Menomalé pizza in Washington, DC. I interviewed the owner, a real pizzaiolo, back in November. It’s really a treat, maybe one of the best hidden gems of the DC area.
It’s in an unsuspecting neighborhood in a hidden building. But inside sits some impressive pizza activity. Not to mention the owner helps other pizza owners import pizza ovens from Naples!
It’s the real deal and I hope you enjoy these photos.
I want pizza so badly right now.
Pete’s APizza (apizza?) brings the “famous New Haven” apizza to the depths of Washington, DC. As the nation’s capitol it’s only appropriate that there is a selection of pizza from across the United States.
I’ve never heard of New Haven Style pizza, but I’m always up for a new spin on the classic pie. I mean, what makes pizza so amazing is it’s a cuisine made up of three basic ingredients: bread, cheese, sauce. That’s it. Anyone with a $2 bill could gather enough ingredients to build a pizza. So any spin on the formula without adding a cesspool of toppings is an exciting thing to a pizza journalist.
What’s funny about DC is that it’s tough to come across a place that will sell a single slice of pizza to you. It’s like bizarro New York city. But Pete’s Apizza fills that tiny hole in your tiny pizza heart.
Once you pick the apizza you want from their minuscule apizza zoo, you pick out how many pitchers of Peroni you’ll be enjoying.
It’s casual for sure, but this is no Sbarro’s. It’s a smart and intelligent take on pizza that Henry Ford would be proud of. Quite a streamlined process. They even give you a little table card.
Eight is the number of slices I wish I had ordered.
So here’s the pizza. Sorry, apizza. It’s simple and efficient, much like their process. There’s no mess and no excess of anything. It’s quaint. Just how I imagine New Haven to be.
For as basic as it looks, this pizza is full of that crunch.
It’s as if there’s invisible crust on the top of the pizza. It’s surrounded by an aura of brittleness that breaks apart as soon as your canines find their way into the cheese. From top to bottom, it’s crust. Not crusty because that’s a bad thing. But crunchy, shattering, crust. Laminated with cheese.
The sauce, well, I’m not sure there is any sauce. Check out this cross section.
You can’t even fold this pizza in half without worrying about a pizza splinter breaking off of the mother ship and blinding you. Never able to witness pizza bubbling in the oven again.
Or see what time it is in Naples. Or New Haven.
I found the pizza a bit dry and too full of crunch. It’s special. But I think I prefer something a bit on the softer side. But, for fans of crust I think you’re in for a treat.
And here’s some Peroni being poured–a necessary to keep your whistle nice and whet.
There’s pizza then there’s pizza. Then there’s, like, pizza. Then there’s Pizza. 2Amys is the latter, capital “P” izza. Which kind of makes sense because it resides in the capital of the United States of America. 2Amys is home to neopolitan pizza and serves a delicious D.O.C. certified pie - that means there’s a standard of quality and expertise with your pizza. There aren’t too many D.O.C. spots around, so if you can find one do yourself a favor and take a bite out of the D.O.C. certified pie. I guess what I’m saying is that D.O.C. is D.A.N. certified.
But 2Amys! My oh my. This pizza is the kind of pizza you dream of the night before Pizza Christmas. It’s the pizza that the Pizza King and Queen eat during the Annual Pizza Ceremony of Mozzarella and Majestic-ism. As seen in the photo above, every portion of the pizza is cooked to perfection. The crust is slightly charred in some spots and fluffy in the others, sign of the unpredictable and unruly flames striking out against the rising dough. The cheese remains white and pure; untouched by the elements waiting for you to consume it. The cheese doesn’t hog the pizza, but shares it with the wonderfully simple tomato sauce. Basil is strewn about as if a gentle breeze blew them onto the pizza as it was coming out of the oven and nobody minded its appearance.
It’s an extraordinary pizza that may be the best I’ve ever eaten. It’s authentic and harkens back to the classic type of pizza, which happens to be my favorite. In fact, it’s so classic that you have to ask for your pizza to be cut. Otherwise you have an entire oval to deal with and chances are you’ll end up looking like a fool. A fool with a pizza.
2Amys is more than just pizza. I was there with my pal Pat and my pizza lady, Christa, and we ate quite a variety of food.
Despite my warning, Pat got some sort of calzone thing. He seemed to enjoy it.
They also served doughnuts. I don’t really understand why, but 2Amys must get that question a lot because they have an entire section of their website is dedicated to this delicious treat.
But the donut wasn’t the end of the meal! What you see above is a “Foggy Senior.” I don’t even know if they’re on the menu, but Christa worked her magic and shazam - we were all enjoying a small cup of espresso with a dollop of ice cream. Just a dollop! But the combination is unreal. The espresso and ice cream complement one another perfectly, like two long lost friends who come back together and pick up like nothing ever happened.
And that’s what everything feels like at 2Amys. It’s all so natural, authentic, and legit. Every item makes sense to be on the menu. It’s an establishment built on common sense and tradition and 2Amys does not disappoint. I give each Amy a five out of five.
