Forno Tony

About a month ago, Rochester was named the Best Pizza City in the U.S. This happens every so often, and I'm guessing other cities are similarly so-named occasionally. Somebody somewhere runs some numbers from online reviews, and looks at pizzerias per capita and declares that "[insert name of city] is the Best Pizza City in the country.

 So while I doubt that Rochester truly deserves that distinction, I will say that we are blessed with a lot of good pizzerias, making a wide variety of styles of pizza. 

Part of that is due to a trend that's been happening nationwide for years. You can go to East Fumbuck in the middle of nowhere these days and find a place offering wood-fired, "artisanal" pizza. It might or might not be good, but at least they're trying, and you've got an option besides the local convenience store (and even they've upped their game, as a result).

But part of it locally, I think, is that
Rochester had a pizza culture before the current pizza renaissance began. Pizza took early root here, thanks to the influx of Italian immigrants in the early 20th Century, and some of the old-timers are still around. We've arguably a local style, and now we've got even more choices.

 Which gets us to Forno Tony, which opened in January 2024 on University Avenue in Rochester, and focusing on Roman-style pizza. They started serving pizza from a location on East Avenue in 2022 one or two days a week, and drawing huge crowds. 

I was aware of it, but for several reasons I just put it on my to-do list and never got around to it. It took my resuming this blog to get there. I went on a Friday around 11 a.m. 

Walking in, one finds a takeout counter with a lot of choices, mostly pizza or variations thereof, plus some pastries. There were a few seats for dining in, but it was pretty much takeout. 

The basic choice was between pizza alla pala and pizza in teglia. The names simply refer to how they're made: from a paddle or a pan. The former, also known as Roman-style pizza, is stretched thin into an oblong shape and slid into the oven with a wooden peel, while the latter is a thicker, pan-baked pizza, similar to focaccia. Or maybe it's just focaccia by a different name. If I've learned one thing over the years, it's that Italians have a lot of names for food.

 You don't get slices here exactly, at least in the way most of us are used to, where you walk in and the pizza's already sliced. You get it by the cut, or al taglio, and charged by weight. And as in Rome, they cut it with scissors.

 At this point, I will make one mild criticism of Forno Tony. They have an impressive array of choices, but they weren't labeled, and there was no visible menu. The person behind the counter ran through them for me, and perhaps that's the way it's done in Rome, but if you don't want to have to recite every variety over and over, why not put up today's menu, or small signs identifying each variety? 

I settled on four choices. Two were alla pala and two were in teglia. I asked for pretty big cuts, so it ended up being eight regular-size slices.

 One Roman slice (pizza rossa) was topped with nothing but tomato sauce, which is as basic as it gets. I'd be tempted to say it was close to what ancient Romans might've had, were it not for the fact that tomatoes weren't known in Europe until after Spanish conquistadores brought them back from the New World. (Incidentally, it also took a while for Europeans to realize that tomatoes aren't poisonous.)

It was crisp and crunchy, and despite its thinness, there were visible air pockets inside, which gave it a light but chewy texture. The underside was well browned but not charred, although there were some charred spots on the topside and along the edge, which added that extra bit of flavor. So simple yet so delicious.

 My other Roman slice was similar, but topped with sliced eggplant and mozzarella. Eggplant is one of the few foods I dislike, but my wife loves it, so I got it for her. I tried it and leaving aside my distaste for eggplant, it was good. For one thing, the eggplant was sliced so thin that I wasn't bothered by the texture, which is my primary reason for hating eggplant. The mozzarella didn't hurt either. It appeared to be processed mozzarella but it was silky smooth and creamy.

I don't know if this was just a matter of chance, but this slice was also noticeably more charred underneath and along the edge. Perhaps because of the additional toppings, the pizzaiolo left it in the oven a bit longer to give it a little more time to bake.

(Speaking of the oven, from what I could see it was an electric oven, and I assume the digital display showing "585" referred to the temperature, not the area code.)

Moving on to the pan-baked pizza, I love red pizza with fresh mozzarella, so I got that. It was not all that much different from the alla pala pizza, aside from the thickness. Unlike typical American pan-baked "sheet pizza," it wasn't oily underneath. It had a firm texture and was again airy and light, showing the beneficial effects of a long slow dough rise. The mozzarella was melted just short of browning, which is perfect. The sauce seemed the same as on the other slices, slightly sweet in a tomatoey way, but perhaps a bit more concentrated from staying in the oven longer.

My fourth choice was a white pizza (pizza bianca), baked in the pan. I'm generally not a huge fan of white pizza, for a variety of reasons; they tend to be oily, for one thing. Plus I just prefer red sauce. But if I'm getting several varieties, I usually include at least one white pizza.

This one was topped with thinly sliced zucchini and, I believe, lemon zest. (Yes, the server explained everything. But at some point I lost track of what was what, which is why I wish they had a printed menu.)

There was some oil between the crust and the cheese, although not to an unpleasant degree or as much as with some white pizzas I've had. The yellow squash added more color than flavor, but the lemon zest and oregano sprinkles added some interest.

Forno Tony also sells a few sweets, and although I hadn't planned on getting anything other than pizza, one caught my eye. It looked a bit like a pretzel roll, split down the middle, filled with cream and topped with fresh raspberries. Turns out they are maritozzi, which is Rome's signature pastry. The counter server described it as a brioche bun filled with cream. They looked too good to pass up, so I got one maritozzo. I shared it later that night with my wife. It was a bit messy to try to cut in half, much less eat by hand after being split, but it was delicious and remarkably light (by "light," I mean texturewise, not caloriewise). Sorry I didn't get a photo, but the Democrat and Chronicle posted one here.

I will confess to a tendency to resist liking anything that everyone else is saying is great. If somebody tells me, "You've got to see this movie, you'll love it," I'm already predisposed to hate it. I can hardly say that Forno Tony has hyped itself--their web presence seems limited to an Instagram page--but I was both eager to try it and ready to say, "Overrated." It's not.

However-- 

Not long before I went, I was speaking with someone who'd been there. To paraphrase, they told me, "Yeah, it was good, but I like regular pizza, and it's not regular pizza."

I get it. By way of analogy, and to quote Supreme Court Justice Brett Kavanaugh, I like beer. And I can appreciate a well-made IPA or stout or bock or whatever. But sometimes you just want a plain old beer. Fizzy and yellow and white and foamy on top.

And sometimes you just want plain old pizza, the kind you grew up with. You won't find that here. But we're blessed to have a panoply of pizza choices around Rochester, and this is a great addition to that array. 

Forno Tony, 1350 University Ave., Rochester

Thu. - Sat. 9 am - 5 pm

closed Sun. - Wed.

Dough Depot (not)

 On a recent weekend I decided to take advantage of the nice weather and go for a hike. I was scanning the map for trails or forests where I could work in a hike and a nearby pizzeria, and settled on Indian Fort Nature Preserve near Geneseo. I chose it partly because it has some very nice trails, for a relatively small place, and partly because I saw on Google Maps that there was a pizzeria in nearby Caledonia, Dough Depot, that I hadn't been aware of. It got good reviews and was in an old railroad depot to boot, which was a bonus for me.

 I called and got no answer but I forged ahead, as there were recent updates online stating that they would be open. OK, I admit, dumb idea. Should've made sure. But it was still worth checking out. 

Got to the depot and saw "DOUGH DEPOT" in large letters along the wall, and I smelled food cooking. 

But the doors on both sides were locked, and the interior looked dark. I started back to my car when I heard someone say, "Anything I can do for you?," or words to that effect. Across the adjacent tracks stood a man in his yard, and after I explained that I was there for pizza he responded that he hadn't known Dough Depot to make pizza for at least several weeks.

 "But I smell something cooking," I said. He answered. "Oh, that's me, I'm doing steaks." "Can I come over?" "Sure, come on over," he replied.

It was a nice offer, and I'm guessing he would've honored it had I taken him up on it, but I declined. He suggested Pizza Land, just down the road. But I saw that I had reviewed it before, and although that was a long time ago, I had stopped there pretty recently and the pizza didn't seem much different from the time of my prior review, so I headed home and made my own lunch.

Subsequent calls to Dough Depot have met without success.  So I can only conclude that it's no longer in business, or at least that it's not making pizza. Too bad, as the reviews that I saw were quite positive, and I had been looking forward to it. I can only hope that it reopens or that someone else moves into the space. But I can't call it a wasted trip, as I was heartened to see that there are still some hospitable folks left in the world, at least in Caledonia.

 Dough Depot, 226 North St., Caledonia

 

 

The Richmond

Way back when, on any given night you might've seen me had you walked into Richmond's, a bar on Richmond Street in Rochester. It was a truly great bar. The neon "SORRY WE'RE OPEN" sign in the window pretty much told you what you needed to know about Richmond's. "Dive" doesn't sound quite right, but anybody and everybody was welcome. I think someone best described it as a neighborhood bar without a neighborhood.

 Sadly, Richmond's closed in 2020, apparently a victim of the COVID restrictions imposed by New York State (don't get me started on that). 

But it re-emerged in 2022, under different ownership, as "The Richmond," with a makeover and the addition of pizza. I put it on my to-do list, but saved it for a later day, when I would start doing blog posts again.

I went back recently with my wife for dinner, on a Saturday night around 6 p.m. The layout was about the same as I remembered it -- bar up front, some booths along the back -- but a bit classier looking, which is either a good or a bad thing, depending on your point of view. Happily, the "SORRY WE'RE OPEN" sign remains, now in blue instead of the old red neon.

We shared an appetizer of cauliflower salad, which
was very good. I highly recommend it.

From there, we got two pizzas, a Margherita and a "Cup N' Char." Pizzas are described on the menu as "Neapolitan style," and while I will leave it to interested readers to do further research on the parameters of that style, I would say these fell within that category: thin, relatively soft, and foldable.

I'll start with the Cup N' Char, which is described as topped with cup n' char pepperoni, mozzarella and house red sauce. It was pretty good, with nearly-burnt pepperoni on top and some charring underneath.  But the crust didn't wow me. One mark of a great pizza, for me, is that when I eat through to the edge (cornicione), I keep on going, because it's that good. I didn't get that here. The crust just didn't have a lot going for it. I don't claim to be an expert but it seemed like a quickly-risen dough that didn't have time to develop the kind of complexity I would expect from a Neapolitan-style pizza. But all in all, not bad.

The Margherita was, sad to say, a disappointment.  As with most things pizza, it started with the crust.

 The underside was quite pale. I wouldn't say that the crust was raw -- given its thinness, it didn't take long to bake -- but it was underdone, for sure.

I suppose we could've sent it back, although I've never done that before with a pizza. Come to think of it, I've never done that before, with any dish, but I can see doing it with meat. Pizza? Maybe, with a slice, if you want the bottom to get crisp, but the problem here was that the top side was already well-baked. A few more minutes and it would've been overdone.

The toppings were not enough to make up the difference. My tastes in pizza differ somewhat from my wife's, but we both commented on the sauce. It was thin and tasted as if it had come out of a jar. I suggested Ragu, and she didn't disagree. I have fond memories of Ragu spaghetti sauce, but it's not what I expect on a Margherita pizza. (I am NOT saying they used Ragu. I'm saying that's what it brought to mind.)

 I took a walk back to the oven area and it appeared to me that though the oven has the appearance of a wood-burning oven, the heat came entirely from a gas flame. (I should point out that they don't claim to do wood-burning pizza; I'm not accusing them of false advertising or anything like that.) Again, I don't claim to be an expert but I wondered if the oven hadn't had long enough to come up to full temperature when we got there. I didn't see a temp on the oven, so I don't know how hot it was, but there seemed to be a disconnect between the ambient temperature, where the toppings cook, and the deck, where the bottom cooks.

It occurred to me during dinner that I and fellow pizza aficionados have gotten spoiled over the years. Some years ago, I would've been amazed to get this pizza in a bar. Today, thankfully, standards have risen and I am a little more demanding.

 I will add that the service was great. We sat  at the bar, in my old spot, and the bartender was attentive. When the pizza came out, the server explained that the chef had mistakenly added hot honey and red pepper flakes, and she offered to take it back and have it redone, but I was fine with it. 

So ... 

It was great to get back to Richmond's. Nice to see that wings are still on the menu, although I don't know if they're up to the old standards; maybe next time I'll find out. (Mike, if you're out there, you made the BEST wings anywhere, anytime.) 

Based on this one visit, I would describe the pizza as a bit of a disappointment, but showing potential. Get better sauce and make better use of that oven (and maybe do a longer, colder dough rise), and they might have something great. That may sound like damning by faint praise, but that's not my intent. Some tweaking is all it needs.

The Richmond

21 Richmond St., Rochester, NY  

Mon., Wed. 4 pm - 10 pm

Thu., Fri. 4 pm - midnight

Sat. 1 pm -  midnight

Sun. 1 pm - 10 pm

 

Cristo's, Buffalo Road

Just twelve and a half short years ago, I published a post about a new wood-fired pizzeria on Buffalo Road, Fiamma. I l loved it, calling it "a great example of the pizzamaker's art."

In 2015, Fiamma opened a second location off University Avenue in Rochester (which I've been to, and it's every bit as good; I highly recommend it).

Eventually Fiamma closed the Buffalo Road location. For a while, the space housed a second location of Veneto, which is one of the first pizzerias I reviewed, in 2009.

In 2023, the Buffalo Road location re-opened as Cristo, under the ownership of a former Veneto chef. 

I added Cristo to my to-do list, but never got around to doing it until recently. I guess re-starting the blog finally gave me the impetus I needed.  I know that maintaining this blog is going to require some effort on my part, but if it got me to check out Cristo, then it's already been worth it.

Among the three of us, we ordered (the descriptions are from the menu) homemade fusilli pasta tossed in a vodka sauce with pancetta and red pepper flakes, and tagliatelle all'Amatriciana, described as homemade tagliatelle tossed in a red sauce with red onion, pancetta, and Calabrian peppers topped with Parmesan, Asiago and Romano cheeses.

And of course, the main reason for our trip:  pizza.

There are eight different pizzas on the menu, and though several of them sounded tempting, my default on a first visit to a place that does wood-fired or Neapolitan-style pizza is to go with a Margherita, as I did here.

When it arrived at our table, it looked good:  charred around the edge, topped with red sauce, fresh mozzarella and chopped basil.

When I took a bite, it got even better. Everything about it seemed right. So I took another bite, and another. I kept looking for something wrong with it, not because I wanted something to be wrong but because I thought, there has to be something wrong here; some flaw.

I didn't find one.

Let's start with the crust. Pliable, bready, chewy, charred. Not crackly like a NYC slice, but not soft or spongy, like, well, too many other places. And the charring was just right, for me. Not burnt, but not the kind of charring I've seen induced at some places for show, where they briefly expose the perimeter of the pizza to a gas flame to blacken it a bit. I confirmed with the pizzaiolo that their oven is 100% wood-fired, and this is how wood-fired pizza should be.

(By the way, I apologize for the relatively poor quality of the photos. The light in the restaurant was somewhat dim, and my attempts to improve the photos by editing them met with limited success. I need to work on that.)

The toppings shone both individually and in concert with each other. The sauce had a bright, fresh flavor, the cheese was melted juuust enough, and the basil, which had wilted a bit in the oven without browning, added the right herbal accent.

All three components worked beautifully together, and with the crust. I hate to overuse the phrase, but to me pizza is first and foremost about balance.  The crust, the sauce, the cheese, etc., everything has to work together in the right proportions and in harmony. And that was true of this pizza. 

Oh, and the pasta dishes? They were good too, or so I was told. I was too busy with the pizza.

As I said, some of the other pizzas on the menu sounded good, and I would like to go back to try them, although given my tastes it's hard to imagine I would like one of them better than this. For me, this was about as good as it gets.

Cristo's Wood Fired Pizza and Pasta

1308 Buffalo Road, Gates, New York 14624

585-622-9000

cristosrestaurant@gmail.com

Mon. - Wed. 4:00 pm – 9:00 pm
    
Thu., Fri. noon – 9:00 pm
    
Sat.  3:30 pm – 9:00 pm
    
Sun. Closed (available for private parties and catering)