Peppino's, Revisited

It's hard to believe that it's been about five months since I posted on Facebook about a slice that I got at Peppino's, which is in Chili, just off Chili Ave./33A. Peppino's was recommended to me by a reader, whom I thank once again. I enjoyed the slice, and made a mental note to go back for a full pie.
A couple weeks ago, I finally made good on that, and picked up a pie to go.
The first question was what to order. Peppino's has some interesting specialty pizzas on the menu, including a potato pie and my old standby, the Margherita, but this was a dinner pizza for my family and me, and since it was Thanksgiving eve, we didn't want leftovers. So I went with half pepperoni and half green peppers and onions. My daughter likes the former, my wife the latter, and I'll eat either.
Allow me to digress for a moment and say that I would also have been happy with half of either, and plain cheese on the other half, but in my experience that's a bad decision. The toppings tend to act as a blanket on the cheese. So a half-cheese/half something-else pie never comes out right. Either the extra toppings don't cook enough, or the cheese gets too brown.
This pie had a thin crust, with a darkly browned but not charred underside. The crust had a pleasant chewiness, and a crisp cornicione. The bottom was a little oily in spots, but I think that was due to oil that had seeped down after the pie was sliced, and mostly came from the cheese and pepperoni on top. It too about 20 minutes to get this pie home, which was likely a factor as well.
The balance and flavor were good. This wasn't a particularly cheese-heavy pie, but the cheese was a standout; nicely melted and smooth.
The sauce was pretty straightforward, with a tomatoey-sweet flavor accented by a bit of saltiness, and was applied in good proportion to the other components. The pepperoni was crisp but not overdone, and the peppers and onions were cooked enough to be softened, but they retained a bit of bite.
Peppino's pies come in medium, large and half-sheet sizes, with 22 toppings to pick from, including house-made ground sausage, fresh mozzarella, sun-dried tomatoes, and anchovies (which are all too rare on local pizza menus). The menu is rounded out with a mix of wings, several types of arancini (rice balls), sandwiches, and, incongruously but welcome, deep-fried, Southwest corn fritters, which are made with jalapenos, bacon and cream cheese.
To get back to the pizza -- my overall impression was that this pizza could be described as broadly in the New York style. Since Peppino's doesn't claim to make New York style pizza, I'm not going to judge it against the parameters for that style. It's a thin-crust pizza, and a good one. This was a cut above average, so I feel comfortable giving it a "B."

Peppino's Pizzas
25 Chestnut Ridge Road
(585) 247-8600

Tue. - Thu. 11 a.m. - 9 p.m.
Fri. 11 a.m. - 10 p.m.
Sat. 3 - 10 p.m.
Sun. noon - 10 p.m.
Mon. closed

Fiamma: Montanara Pizza

Even at pizzerias with long lists of specialty pies, you don't often see potato pizza among them. When you do, it's apt to be of the "stuffed potato" variety, loaded with cheddar cheese, bacon, sour cream and whatnot. To me that's overkill, and I generally avoid that kind of pizza. I don't even like my potatoes that way.
But there is an Italian tradition of adding potatoes to pizza. And Fiamma, one of my favorite pizzerias, offers its version, which I tried recently.
During a recent lunch visit with two friends, I ordered Fiamma's Montanara pizza. I'd seen it on the menu and been wanting to try it for some time. The Montanara is topped with smoked mozzarella, sliced potato, crumbled sausage and porcini mushrooms. 
(As an aside, I should mention that I've seen the term "montanara" applied to pizza with a fried crust, typically topped with a tomato-based sauce. This was neither.)
Now I would not ordinarily order a pizza with mushrooms. There aren't many pizza toppings I shy away from, but mushrooms are one of them. I just don't like mushrooms, mostly because of their texture.
But another principle I tend to follow is that at certain restaurants, I trust the chef. I don't think chefs should refuse reasonable customer requests to alter a dish slightly, but after all the fine pizza I've had at Fiamma, I figure, either get it as described, or don't get it at all. That's particularly true if I'm going to review it on the blog. So I ordered the Montanara, mushrooms and all.
As usual, I'll start with the crust. There's not much I can say beyond what I've said before about Fiamma's consistently good crust. Puffy cornicione, black blisters along the edge and underneath, supple and flavorful. I think I'd be quite happy to make a meal of an unadorned Fiamma's crust. To me, it's what a wood-fired pizza crust should be.
Which makes for a convenient segue to the toppings. I know that some customers have complained from time to time that they find Fiamma's pizza soggy, or soupy, or words to that effect. I've written about that before, and I'm not going to get back into it here, except to say that Neapolitan-style pizza is simply different from basic American pizza. I mention it because the toppings on Fiamma's Montanara are not as wet as some of their other pizzas, so the crust is comparatively drier and firmer.
It's also a more subtly flavored pie than some of the others on the menu. No hot peppers, or sharp cheese, or salty anchovies. Instead, you get a harmonious blend of savory sausage and mushrooms and almost buttery-tasting, thinly sliced al dente potatoes. They're complemented by bits of rosemary and other herbs, and a touch of olive oil, against a backdrop of smoked mozzarella, which I like very much. All told, this pizza is far from bland or uninteresting, but it does use a relatively restrained combination of ingredients that invites slow eating (something I'm not always good at) and which rewards the diner's attention.
Oh, and the mushrooms? I have to admit, they worked well here. Not that I'm going to start ordering mushrooms on my pizza on a regular basis, but their flavor blended nicely with that of the other toppings, and these didn't have the rubbery texture that I find so objectionable.
As much as I remain a fan of Fiamma's red pizzas, one of the things I enjoy about going there is working my way through the pizza menu. Each variety has something different to offer, and this was another good example. Its very dissimilarity from the other pies on the menu is why the Montanara offers its own unique rewards, which are well worth seeking.

Fiamma, 1308 Buffalo Road

585-270-4683
info@fiammarochester.com

Lunch
Mon-Sat - 11:45am-2:00pm

Dinner
Mon - Thurs 4:30pm-9pm
Fri - Sat 4:30pm-10pm
Sun 4:00pm-8pm

Back to Fiamma

As regular readers of this blog will surely know, Fiamma on Buffalo Road has been one of my favorites since my first visit there in October 2012. So it didn't take any arm-twisting to get me to accept an invitation for my wife and me to join two friends there for dinner on New Year's Eve.
After being seated, we shared some appetizers, a Caprese salad with fresh buffalo mozzarella, and a plate of mussels in a spicy tomato sauce. They were very good, but I did not want to overdo it on the antipasti, or the complimentary bread, because I was saving room for the pizza.
Fiamma is not just a pizzeria; it's a full-service restaurant, and they offer several pasta, meat and fish dishes. I don't doubt that those are very good, but I simply can't bring myself not to order pizza when I'm there.
I was leaning toward the Montanara pizza, which is topped with sliced potatoes, among other things, but instead - maybe it was the festive holiday mood - I decided to try the stella, which is unique among Fiamma's pizzas. The crust is formed into an eight-pronged star, and each prong is wrapped around a nugget of smoked buffalo mozzarella. The whole pie is topped with mozzarella, olives, sausage, arugula and cherry tomatoes.
The pizza was so pretty, I hated to cut into it. But after taking the leftovers home, I realized that the individual slices made for very nice Christmas-tree-shaped pizza.
The toppings provided contrasting flavors, which varied from one bite to the next: a bit of saltiness from the olives, some sweetness from the tomatoes, and the underlying bitterness of the arugula. But there was no sauce, so what I mostly got was the smoky-charred-bready-chewy crust. And it's that slow-risen, fast-baked crust that I love most about Fiamma's pizza.
My stella gave me more than enough to keep me busy, so I didn't sample my companions' pies. But my wife got a Napoletana, topped with tomato sauce, garlic, oregano, basil, pecorino Romano, and extra virgin olive oil. One friend got a Carminuccio, with double tomato sauce, spicy pancetta, basil, Parmigiano & a blend of Gran Cru cheese. Her husband ordered a Capricciosa, with tomato sauce, parma cotto ham, mushrooms, olives, mozzarella, basil, and olive oil. Each pie displayed the leopard-spotted underside that is Fiamma's signature, and everybody was happy with their pizza.
I'm not a huge dessert guy, but I do love tiramisu, so I couldn't resist that. It was moist, light and appropriately sweet.
At this point, my notes become rather sparse, probably reflecting the effects of a full stomach and carb overload. But my wife and one friend each got the same dessert, which I believe was the semifreddo, chocolate mousse topped with gelato. The fourth member of our party ordered a frozen, fruity dessert. For the life of me I can't think of what it was called but it was stuffed into a tiny, split squash or pumpkin.
Owner Giuseppe Pacciulo was quite busy (they were short-handed that night, due to an employee's illness), but I did manage to chat with him before we left around 10:00. He informed me that a second Fiamma's location, in Rochester, remains in the works, but the date remains TBA. I will pass on any information I get, as soon as I get it.
Someday, I will order something other than pizza off Fiamma's "primi" and "secondi" menu. The baccala al forno sounds especially intriguing. But next time I go, I'm getting that Montanara pizza. I'll do another post, when I've done so.

Fiamma, 1308 Buffalo Road

585-270-4683

info@fiammarochester.com

Lunch
Mon-Sat - 11:45am-2:00pm

Dinner
Mon - Thurs 4:30pm-9pm
Fri - Sat 4:30pm-10pm
Sun 4:00pm-8pm

Fiamma Update

If I seem to post about certain places over and over again, it's not necessarily that I'm running out of pizzerias, it's just that I keep returning to certain places, because I like them, and that I've got something new, I hope, to say about them.
Fiamma is one such place. I had lunch there recently with two friends.
I got a "San Daniele," topped with mozzarella, cherry tomatoes, baby arugula, prosciutto, shaved Parmigiano Reggiano, and balsamic cream.
I tend to lean toward minimalism where pizza is concerned, but I'm not a purist. I understand that in the Italian tradition, pizza is a base, the same way that pasta or rice is a base, for other toppings.
That said, I'm still not a fan of overloaded American pizza. Just dumping a bunch of toppings onto a crust does not make for good pizza, in my opinion, although I know there are those (including my daughter, whose default pizza is the "meat lover's") who will disagree with me.
But this pie, despite all its toppings, was not an exercise in gluttony. There's a reason that Fiamma's pies, like those in Italy, come with a knife and fork and a pizza cutter. You treat it as a main dish. And this was a well-balanced dish, with classic Italian flavors over Fiamma's excellent crust.
One reason I like going to pizzerias with my friends, besides the pleasure of their company, is that I get to try three pizzas. One friend got a diavola, topped with tomato sauce, mozzarella, spicy soppressata, basil, and spicy olive oil, and the other got a capricciosa, with tomato sauce, parma cotto, mixed mushrooms, mixed olives, mozzarella, basil, and extra virgin olive oil.
As much as I liked my San Daniele, I think I would've traded it for theirs. I love good olives, and I love spicy food, so both pies were right up my alley (although I will never love mushrooms, so I'd probably ask to have those left off if I ordered a capricciosa).
It may be needless to say, but all the pizzas had an excellent crust - blackened but not burnt, crisp but chewy. Thin in the middle, thick along the edge, this crust could stand on its own, with no toppings at all.
I had a moment to chat with Giuseppe, the proprietor. Work continues on Fiamma's new location in the city, at the corner of Atlantic Ave. and Russell St. It sounded as if they had hit a few minor snags, physically, which is typical, I think, so look for them to open later this summer or this fall.
In the meantime, get to Fiamma at its original location in Gates. It's world-class pizza.

Fiamma, 1308 Buffalo Road


585-270-4683


info@fiammarochester.com

Lunch
Mon-Sat - 11:45am-2:00pm

Dinner
Mon - Thurs 4:30pm-9pm
Fri - Sat 4:30pm-10pm
Sun 4:00pm-8pm

Blu, Pixley Road

I don't know what the breakdown is in terms of what sort of establishments sell pizza in Monroe County -- full-fledged pizzerias, convenience stores, supermarkets, restaurants and bars, and whatever other vendors are out there -- but there are more bars and restaurants offering pizza than you might think. It's not as commonplace as, say, chicken wings or burgers, but you can find pizza on quite a few menus around town.
Which brings us to Blu, a restaurant and bar that opened about three years ago on Pixley Road in Gates, not far from the Buffalo Road exit off 490. They offer several varieties of pizza, and I went there recently for lunch with two companions.
One of my friends got a burger - which looked, and according to him, was very good - and the other got a basic pepperoni pizza. I opted for the "Westside Margherita," which was topped with garlic oil, red sauce, tomatoes, basil, and mozzarella, with a drizzle of a reduced balsamic-vinegar sauce.
First, the good news. Where they had toppings, the pizzas were fairly tasty. More on that later. Now the bad news. The crust wasn't so good.
Both the menu and our server made a point of emphasizing that the dough for Blu's pizza is made in house, but you could've fooled me. I'm not sure what the explanation is, but the one adjective we agreed upon for these crusts was "dry," and the interiors lacked the puffiness that I like to see with freshly made dough. I don't know if Blu is making their own dough and then freezing it, but that's a possibility, to judge from these.
Now I'm not saying that the crust was godawful, or that it was bone-dry, to the point of being crumbly; the crust just lacked the aroma and liveliness of freshly made dough. It was serviceable, but no better than that.
The pies did taste good. The pepperoni pie was appropriately simple, with nicely melted mozzarella and crisp, meaty, spicy cup-and-char pepperoni. If only the toppings had been spread more fully around the pie, which had in some areas a wide area of naked crust along the perimeter. A little thicker application of the basic, tomatoey sauce might also to some extent have offset the dryness of the crust.
As for my Margherita, it was atypical but enjoyable. This isn't the first time I've had a pizza with a balsamic vinegar sauce, and I'm not complaining about it, since I knew from the menu that the pizza was drizzled with balsamic vinegar, but it's not traditionally associated with classic Margherita pizza. It did add an interesting flavor twist to the pie, with its sweet-yet-acidic tang playing off the other toppings, and the added liquid was particularly welcome atop this crust.
Flavorwise, the other dominant feature of the Margherita was the garlic oil. I love garlic, and the flavor here was prominent, but not harsh.
The red sauce and mozzarella were, I believe, the same as on the pepperoni pie, although the cheese seemed a bit more scattered than on the pepperoni pizza.
The sliced tomatoes were nothing special, but in fairness, one can't expect terrific fresh tomatoes around here in December. But if I might make so bold as to offer a suggestion to pizzeria owners, consider skipping both the sauce and the fresh tomatoes, and substituting canned tomatoes, of high quality. Crushed, drained and lightly seasoned, they'll more than make up for the absence of both the sauce and the fresh but flavorless sliced tomatoes.
That leaves the basil. This pie was dusted with tiny bits of basil. I think it was fresh basil, but it was chopped very finely. It did add a little background flavor, but I would've preferred some larger bits of shredded basil, added at the end.
Blu offers a few other specialty pizzas, including a beef on weck pie and the "J.M.G.," topped with garlic oil, banana peppers, spinach, asiago, ricotta, and fresh mozzarella. They also have an interesting selection of mac & cheese, from bacon cheeseburger to lobster.
Having written this review, it may appear to be more scathing than it should. I don't want to slam Blu too much. While based on this visit, I can't advise going there for the pizza, my friend's burger was good, and I can't speak to the rest of the menu.
Maybe, if anything, this points up the issue of places that don't specialize in pizza adding pizza to their menus. Good pizza takes time, effort, and expertise, in a way that some other menu items may not. So while I would be fine going back to Blu sometime for one of those meaty, half-pound burgers, the pizza was a disappointment. Perhaps with some tweaking, they can get it right.
In terms of a rating, well, it's always easier to point out a pizza's flaws than its strengths. And again, these pizzas tasted pretty good; the flavor wasn't really the issue. The biggest problem was the crust, which was not so great, but not so bad as to ruin the pizza either. So while I can't say these were average, a "D" seems a little too severe. Let's call these a C-minus.

Blu, 250 Pixley Rd., Gates

(585) 247-0079

Tue. - Thu. 11 a.m. - midnight
Fri. 11 a.m. - 2 a.m.
Sat. 4:30 p.m. - 2 a.m.
Closed Sun. & Mon.

General Hoock's, Reborn

Readers of this blog will know how much I love Fiamma on Buffalo Road in Gates. But going there is always tinged by a hint of bittersweetness, because I'm aware that at one time, that site was home to another great, albeit very different, pizzeria.
For some years, at the spot where Fiamma sits today, you would've found General Hoock's All American Pizzeria. (And there was another pizzeria there before that; some places are just made to be pizzerias, I guess.)
The General, a/k/a Shawn, turned out good, distinctive pizza, and legendary breakfast food, in a place that was part diner, part pizzeria, part bar (minus the alcohol, if you can picture that).
Thanks to a recent edit on RocWiki,I learned that the General was back in operation, in, of all places, a convenience store/gas station on Buffalo Road.
I drove through a snowstorm (so what else is new?) to stop in on a recent midday. Upon entering, I found Shawn behind the counter of his own corner of the store. It's a small operation, but he makes the most of it.
To my initial dismay, or at least surprise, Shawn uses a conveyor pizza oven. But a skilled pizzaiolo can probably make a good pizza in an Easy Bake OvenTM, and Shawn is nothing if not a skilled pizzaiolo. Rather than simply slide the pie in at one end and wait for it to come out on the other, he tended to it, giving it a turn or two before it emerged, crisp and nicely baked.
Good pizza always starts with a good crust, and this crust was very good, crisp yet chewy and charred along the edge, which was formed into a narrow but high cornicione. The crust was on the thin side of medium in thickness. It was topped with a slightly sweet, thick but not dried-out tomato sauce, well-melted mozzarella, and sliced-and-quartered slices of spicy, meaty pepperoni.
I neglected to get or transcribe the full menu, but those of you who were fans of the General in the past will find a number of old favorites here. And old-time fan or not, consider his new signature item, the Infinity Pie, topped with green garlic sauce, rib eye, mozzarella, fresh mushrooms, bacon, pepperoni, ham, onion, jalapeno and cheddar. 
I don't do 'shrooms - bad experience at a rock concert in the early '70s (just kidding, I just don't like mushrooms), but I must try an Infinity Pie at some point.
Gradewise, this is a tough call. An A would suggest that it's as good as could be, but in spite of Shawn's efforts, I'm not sure that it couldn't be improved on, in a different oven. In particular, the underside was baked a bit unevenly. And yet it was very good, and distinctive, which is an attribute that I prize. So although I'm staying away from pluses and minuses, I'll give it an A-minus.
Will we ever see another stand-alone General Hoock's pizzeria? Maybe. The pizza here is fine, but as good as it is, it deserves a full-fledged pizzeria with true pizza ovens. Nevertheless, it's good enough as is to warrant a trip. Whether you want a loaded pizza or just a simple cheese pie, I'd recommend a drive to the corner of Buffalo and Coldwater Roads, for a slice or a pie from the General. His pizza is distinctive,original, and one that I look forward to trying again.

General Hoock's, 3095 Buffalo Rd. (inside Westen Mini Mart)
247-1849
(I'll try to fill in the details as to hours, etc. as soon as I can get them)

Three Pizzas and More About Fiamma

I just gave away a $100 gift certificate to Fiamma, but I had to do an additional post, for a couple of reasons.
First, I want to say something about the pizzas that my wife and I shared on our November visit, when chef Giuseppe Paciullo generously agreed to donate that gift certificate. Second, I've been given some information about Fiamma that I think you may find interesting.
Let's start with the pizza. I got a Regina Margherita, topped with San Marzano tomato sauce, imported buffalo milk mozzarella, cherry tomatoes, oregano, basil, Gran Cru (an imported aged sheep's milk cheese), and extra virgin olive oil. My wife ordered the Amalfi, with mozzarella, arugula, thin-sliced bresaola carpaccio, shaved Parmigiano Reggiano, extra virgin olive oil and a squeeze of lemon juice.
I'd previously had Fiamma's Margherita off the "tradizionali" side of the pizza menu; the "Regina" is on the "Specialita" side. It had been so long (too long) in between visits that I can't give you a specific description of how they differ, but the Regina is a little on the wet side, with semi-liquid dollops of Buffalo milk mozzarella and chunks of cherry tomatoes rather than just a pureed sauce. The flavors blended and complemented each other beautifully, the crust remained crisp underneath, and it was with some difficulty that I was able to leave some on my plate to take home.
The Amalfi provided a nice contrast to the Margherita, and was a study in contrasts in itself. The carpaccio was reminiscent of salami, but more intensely flavored, leaner and chewier. My only complaint was that the slices of carpaccio needed to be individually cut, with a knife, into bite sizes; Fiamma provides pizza cutters with each pie, but they didn't really do the job on the carpaccio, and my attempts to bite off a small piece as I was eating the pizza were largely unsuccessful. Smaller, thinner strips would've been easier to work with, even if not as visually attractive as these.
The arugula and shot of fresh lemon juice added further contrasts, both texturally and flavorwise. I'm not always a big fan of fresh greens on pizza, but this was a fine combination of flavors, colors and textures. Definitely not your average American pizza, but quite enjoyable.
Upon learning that this was my wife's and my anniversary (well, one day short, but close enough), chef Giuseppe prepared us a special treat, a Nutella pizza. I fell in love with Nutella while traveling in France years ago, where I ate plenty of crepes laden with the chocolate-hazelnut spread. This was reminiscent of those, but with a crisp, wood-fired crust rather than a soft, rolled-up crepe. And like most of Fiamma's wares, this was made with the genuine article, imported Nutella, not its sweeter, more chocolatey American counterpart (which is still good, mind you, just not as good). I'm not sure if this "pizza" appears on Fiamma's menu, but I suspect that they can whip one up for you on request.
Oh, and the second thing - a reader (whom I thank) recently sent me an email with some background information about Fiamma. Turns out that pizzaiolo Giuseppe Paciullo spent some time working at this pizzeria in New York City, which is owned by his uncle Roberto, before moving to Rochester. I've never eaten at Zero Otto Nove, but it's gotten rave reviews, like this one. As you'll see, there's a strong resemblance to Fiamma's pizza.
The more I get to know pizzeria owners, the more I come to learn that all pizzerias - the best ones, at least - have a history, and family roots. Great pizzerias generally don't just spring up on their own, because the owner read a cookbook. There's always a background story. So this provides us with some insights into Fiamma's roots.
More than that, it points up how fortunate we are to have a pizzeria of this caliber in Rochester. New York City has long been home to some of the best pizzerias in the country, and the pizza scene there now is hotter than ever. We're lucky enough to have a pizzeria in our midst that can hold its own with the best of them.

Fiamma, 1308 Buffalo Rd. 14624
585-270-4683

info@fiammarochester.com

Lunch: Mon. - Sun. 11:45 a.m. - 2:30 p.m.,
Dinner: Sun. - Thu. 4:30 p.m. - 9 p.m., Fri. & Sat. 4:30 p.m. - 'til

New Giveaway: $100 gift certificate to Fiamma!

You read that correctly. Fiamma, whose food I would rank among the best I've had - pizza or otherwise, Rochester or elsewhere - has agreed to donate a $100 gift certificate to some lucky reader of this blog. This would make an amazing stocking stuffer or a gift to yourself. In fact it's hard for me to give it away, but I will.
I will select a winner at random one week from today, Monday, December 23, around noon. If you are the winner and you do want this by Christmas, I will be able to get it to you if you're willing to meet me to pick it up.
To enter, just leave a comment at the end of this blog post. Any comment. You do not have to fully identify yourself at this point, but anonymous comments will not count. Multiple comments will do you no good.
If you are the winner, I will need a way to get in touch with you. If you don't need it before Christmas, I'll mail it to you. If you want it sooner, I'll need a phone number or email address so we can make arrangements.
Now I know you probably don't want competition for this, but please tell your friends about this giveaway. This is a very generous donation by Fiamma so I'd like to use this opportunity to spread the word about them. Maybe you and your friends can reach a deal where if one of you wins you'll take the other as a guest. Just please don't try to stuff the ballot box. We're all part of an online community and I think we'd all like to be fair to each other.
Whether you win or not, if you are a pizza fan (and I presume that you are, if you're reading this), you owe it to yourself to get to Fiamma. I don't know if I'll ever make to Italy, but I can't help believing this comes awfully close. (If you haven't seen my reviews of Fiamma, type "Fiamma" into the search box on the blog to pull them up.)
Fiamma, 1308 Buffalo Road, Gates 14624
270-4683
info@fiammarochester.com
Mon - Thu: 11:45 am - 9 pm, Fri: 11:45 am - 10 pm, Sat: 4 pm - 10 pm, Sun: 11:45 am - 9 pm

Six50 Revisited

Last December, I posted a review of Six50 Black Oven Cooking, a wood-fired pizzeria, bar and restaurant in Chili. Because it had just opened, I didn't give Six50 a grade, but I did note that the crust was "remarkably pale underneath," "heavily floured, and firm but not really crisp," and that the "edge displayed a little charring, but was hard and chewy." So there were some issues.
I recently went back for lunch with a friend, and am happy to report that things have improved.
Before I get to that, though - in my prior post, I confessed to being mystified by both the terms "Six50" and "black oven cooking." I've since been informed that "Six50" refers to the temperature inside their ovens. "Black oven" means that the pizza is cooked in the same chamber as the burning wood, as opposed to a "white oven," which uses indirect heat, typically with the wood burning in a separate chamber. "Black," I guess, refers to the presence of ash in the oven chamber.
OK. Back to the pizza.
I ordered a diavolo, which is topped with tomato sauce, sopressata, roasted red peppers, red pepper flakes, and mozzarella. My companion got a salsiccia, with garlic oil, sweet Italian sausage, banana peppers and Parmesan cheese.
Upon the arrival of my diavolo pie, first thing I did was check the underside. It was considerably darker than last time, with an inner circle of char spots and more charring along the edge.
That was encouraging, but this pie also had too much flour on the bottom. I know flour can help keep an unbaked crust from sticking to the pizza peel, but too much is too much. When you're biting into a pizza, you don't want the sensation of taking in raw, or burnt, flour. And I did get some of that here.
Despite the charring, the crust was still fairly soft. Even the edge was pretty soft. There just wasn't much bite to it.
Now this gets into matters of style and personal taste. I like a balance of crisp and chewy. But I also make allowances for different styles of pizza, and I know that some people may want more crunch, while others like a soft crust, or don't even focus much on the crust.
What makes a crust crunchy, crisp, chewy, spongy, etc., also involves a lot of factors. The type of flour used. The oven temperature. Oil in the dough or on the cooking surface. Whether the dough contains sugar, milk, or other ingredients. And the cooking method - oven deck, screen, pan, and so on. These characteristics can also differ based upon the style of pizza -- Neapolitan, Sicilian, New York, Chicago thin crust, etc.
So I don't want to overly penalize this one for its soft crust, but personally, I would've liked a little more crispness. And Six50's menu does state that its "pizzas are cooked in our black ovens, which gives them a crispier, darker crust." If that's what they were shooting for, this fell a little short.
OK. I probably said more about the crust than I needed to. But it's easier to write about flaws, or at least things you don't like, than about virtues. So I don't want to suggest that the crust was terrible. It just had some issues.
I did like the flavor of this pie. It wasn't terribly spicy, but then again I'm a pepperhead, and my palate is a bit jaded where hot food is concerned. It had a nice balance of sauce, cheese and other toppings, which added some interest without overwhelming the pie. The sopressata slices gave the pizza some meatiness to go along with the nicely melted cheese, and was complemented by the roasted red peppers, which I always like - in fact I consider them an underrated ingredient that I'd like to use, and eat more often.
My companion's salsiccia didn't have my diavolo's flour issues, but it wasn't quite as charred and was equally soft. But again, the flavor was good. It was topped with big chunks of salty sausage, and the banana peppers gave it a vinegary tang that I liked, though keep in mind that I've been known to eat banana peppers straight out the jar, by the forkful. The cheese on both pies was smooth, nicely melted and a good base for the rest of the toppings.
All in all, these were both generally good pies, with just a few relatively minor shortcomings. Certainly an improvement over my first visit, good enough to recommend, and and good enough to rate a solid B.
Six50 Black Oven Cooking, 3765 Chili Avenue
889-1650
Mon. - Sat. 11 a.m. - 10 p.m., Sun. 4 p.m. - 9 p.m.

Back to Fiamma

I've been pleased, though hardly surprised, to see that Fiamma continues to do well. For a long time, Rochester's and Monroe County's east side has held a lopsided advantage over the west side where wood-fired pizza is concerned, but Fiamma's opening in Gates has dramatically shifted the center of gravity for lovers of the style.
I gave Fiamma a rave review last October, and only the need to check other pizzerias off my list kept me from going back sooner, but I did make a return visit recently. This allowed me to stray from my usual diet of Margherita pizza, and check out some of Fiamma's other varieties.
In fact, I didn't even choose what kind of pizza to get from among Fiamma's wide array of traditional and specialty pizzas. Instead, I left it up to pizzaiolo Giuseppe Paciullo. He recommended the Positano, a "specialita" pizza that's topped with butternut squash puree, smoked mozzarella, basil, and spicy pancetta. Probably not something I'd be inclined to order, but I trusted him to steer me in the right direction.
My trust was amply rewarded, with one of the best pies I've had. Giuseppe told me that not many people order the Positano, probably because the toppings sound a little weird to the average customer. That's understandable, but it's also a shame. They don't know what they're missing. This pizza had a wonderful flavor that could hold its own with any more conventional, tomato-based pie. It also demonstrated how a few well-chosen ingredients can yield far more flavor, or at least more satisfying flavor, than you can get from an everything-but-the-kitchen-sink approach.
Not that I dislike squash, but aside from the orange hue, I never would have guessed that to be one of the toppings on this pie. Maybe it was the effect of pureeing and then cooking the squash, or the influence of the other toppings, but the squash flavor was toned down and subtle, rendering the overall flavor of this pie simultaneously familiar and difficult to pin down. The squash provided a sweet but not cloying base for the contrasting yet complementary smoky, savory and piquant flavors and aromas of the cheese, basil and pancetta. For all the relative simplicity of this pie, the result was a richness and depth of flavor that I've seldom found in any pizza.
One of my companions ordered the Diavola pizza, from the "Tradizionali" side of the menu. Topped with tomato sauce, mozzarella, spicy Italian soppressata, basil, and spicy olive oil, this was basically a kicked-up version of a red pizza, not tongue-scorchingly hot, but with enough spice to add an extra dimension to the sure-fire combination of tomatoes, cheese, basil and thin-sliced cured meat.
While I thoroughly enjoyed the toppings on these pies, I don't mean to neglect the crust, which, for my money, is what truly makes Fiamma's pizza among the best that our area has to offer. After my first visit last year, I'd heard from a friend that one of her dining companions on another occasion had complained that Fiamma's crust was wet and soggy.
Well, yes, in a way. But as you can read here, that's what to expect with authentic Neapolitan pizza. That doesn't make my friend's friend "wrong" - I mean, you like what you like, and you don't like what you don't like - but yes, you will probably need to use a knife and fork to eat Fiamma's pizza, just as you would if you went to a pizzeria in Naples, Italy.
But I did mention that "wet" complaint to Giuseppe, to get his response. He attributed it to Americans' unfamiliarity with the Neapolitan style, telling me, "I never said that's the way [i.e., with a crisp crust] I make pizza. I say, 'this is Neapolitan pizza.' You know, it's like going to Chicago, eating the Chicago style pizza, and saying it's too thick."
And he raised another good point. Fiamma's pizzas cook in an incredibly hot, 1000-degree oven, where they spend about one minute before they're done. The result is a charred but not burnt crust, and toppings that are cooked but not blackened or dried out.
And a crust that, frankly, is not crackly crisp throughout. As Giuseppe put it, "Nothing that cooks in one minute can ever be crispy." Perhaps a "naked" disk of thin dough would get thoroughly crisp, but with toppings, a pizza dough simply cannot exude enough moisture in one minute to develop the firmness that is typical of American style pizza. In fact, Giuseppe said, in Italy, a pizzeria that served a customer a pizza with a thoroughly crisp crust would likely be met with an annoyed, "What did you serve me, a tile?"
Giuseppe also cited Fiamma's use of fresh mozzarella as a reason why his pies cannot be left in the oven long enough for the crust to get completely crisp. I love fresh mozzarella, but I know from experience that it can go from delectably creamy to unappetizingly rubbery in the blink of an eye. Fiamma's pizzas stay in the oven just long enough for the cheese to melt - any longer, and you'd end up with white Silly Putty, or worse.
Having said all that, I should add that on this visit, my pizza crust was not wet. No, this was not the kind of pizza that one could eat with one-hand, folded down the middle like a New York-style slice, but it certainly wasn't soggy, either. So just know, if you go there, what to expect, and what not to expect. And by all means, dare to stray from your pizza comfort zone. I'm glad I did.
Fiamma, 1308 Buffalo Road, Gates 14624
270-4683
info@fiammarochester.com
Mon - Thu: 11:45 am - 9 pm, Fri: 11:45 am - 10 pm, Sat: 4 pm - 10 pm, Sun: 11:45 am - 9 pm

Six-50, Chili

After all these years, I still have mixed feelings about wood-fired pizza. What I mean is, it’s fine and all, but I think that sometimes “wood fired” is assumed to mean “excellent.”
In point of fact, in my experience, wood-fired pizza doesn’t tend to be any better, or worse, on average, than any other kind of pizza. I’ve had great ones, OK ones, and bad ones.
Plus, there’s a learning curve with a wood-fired oven. I’m not sure if it’s more or less difficult to make good pizza in a wood-fired oven than in a gas or electric oven, but it’s surely different. And I’m guessing that it’s pretty easy to screw up a wood-fired pizza, since the radiant heat involved necessitates pretty close and constant attention by the pizzaiolo.
Be that as it may, locally the wood-fired trend continues to march on. After years of growth on Rochester’s east side, wood-fired pizza is slowly spreading west of the Genesee.
The latest entrant is Six50 Black Oven Cooking, a restaurant and bar that opened in early November in Chili. I frankly have no idea what the name means; the phone number, 889-1650, includes the numbers 650, but I’m guessing that the phone number followed the name, not the other way around. And though the oven is sort of black, the term “black oven” doesn’t connote anything in particular to me.
But whatever. They could call it One80 Lavender Oven for all I care, as long as the pizza’s good.
On a recent lunch visit, my first instinct on perusing Six50's list of fourteen pizzas was to go with the Margherita, but I’m always tempted by anything spicy, so I opted for the Diavolo, which was topped with tomato sauce, sopresatta, roasted peppers, crushed red pepper flakes, and mozzarella.
The crust was super-thin, as is typical of wood-fired pizzas, but it was remarkably pale underneath. The underside was heavily floured, and firm but not really crisp. The edge displayed a little charring, but was hard and chewy.
Despite the name, this pizza was not particularly spicy. It was topped with a thick tomato sauce, sweet roasted red peppers, and thick slices of sausage, which had a mild but pleasantly meaty, slightly smoky flavor. A heavier dose of red pepper would've been welcome. I know you can always add it to the finished pizza but when it's in the sauce the heat tends to permeate the entire pizza better.
For starters, I tried the minestrone, which was fine, although it was more like a tomatoey bean soup than classic minestrone. It could’ve passed for a mild vegetarian chili.
Six50 has a full bar, with a handful of taps that lean toward local microbrews. There’s an open kitchen in the back of the room, and a single dining area occupies most of the restaurant.
Service was friendly, and generally good. It took what seemed like an unusually long time for my soup to come out, but the staff seemed to be trying hard to please.
I’m not doing a full restaurant review, but I got the impresson that Six50 is striving to achieve a level of sophistication that you might not expect to find in a small plaza next to a convenience store/gas station in North Chili. And I think they’ve got the basics in place. But the pizza could use a little work, particularly the crust. I’d like to see a quicker-baking, crisper crust with a bit of charring underneath and along the edge. This crust seemed too much as if it had been cooked at a relatively low temperature, so that it firmed up and dried out without developing a lot of flavor.
But since Six50 had been open for a very short time when I visited, I’ll hold off on grading it for now. It’s got promise, and I look forward to a return visit.
Six50, 3765 Chili Ave. 14624
889-1650
11 a.m. - 10 p.m. daily

Lucky's

The restaurant business is notorious for its high casualty rate, and I suspect that pizzerias are at least as likely to fail as are other types of restaurants. So while it's unfortunate to see a pizzeria go out of business, it's rarely a surprise.
A few years ago, Tano's Pizza Grill operated out of a shopping plaza in Gates. I know that I went there, at least once, but I never got a blog post up before it closed. As I recall, the pizza wasn't bad, though I don't have any specific recollection of what it was like.
Often, when a pizzeria closes, another one opens up in the same spot. That's not always a great idea - sometimes the problem is the location, not the pizza - but that's how it is.
Tano's former space is not occupied by a pizzeria, exactly, but you can get pizza there. Lucky's Irish Bar, which moved into the former Tano's spot in 2010, serves up mostly standard bar food, but pizza is on the menu.
I'd seen some print ads for Lucky's mentioning pizza, and I wondered if this had become, in effect, a pizzeria with a bar, as opposed to a bar with pizza on the menu.
It turned out to be the latter. The interior has been completely redone, with a large U-shaped bar dominating the room. And while you can get pizza, more typical bar foods make up the bulk of the menu.
I ordered a pepperoni pie, which I think makes a good benchmark for standard, American-style pizza. This plate-sized pie had a thin crust with a dry bottom marked by concentric rings, presumably from whatever sort of pan it had been on. (Sorry that I photographed it in a styrofoam takeout container, but it's not always feasible to sit there taking pictures of my food without calling attention to myself, and I don't want people to know that I'm there for purposes of doing a review.)
The thin crust showed very little evidence of having risen, and had a more biscuit- than bread-like texture. It had no thick cornicione, as do most pizzas, but a thin edge, which I think is more common with "bar pies." The edge was crunchy and seemed somewhat oil-infused, which accounted for its orangey color.
The pizza was topped with a moderate layer of thinnish sauce, and a more substantial blanket of stringy mozzarella. The wide slices of pepperoni were generously laid on; they were slightly crisp along the edges and had a spicy kick.
This wasn't bad pizza exactly, but I'd have to call it below average, as local pizza goes. I like a thin crust, but it has to have some life to it; this crust was not tasty in its own right, but served only as a platform for the toppings, which were OK, but not enough to save this pizza from a D rating.
Having said that, I will add that from my observation of other patrons' food, Lucky's serves up some pretty good grub. The wings, burgers and fries that I saw looked very appetizing. The lunchtime crowd of regulars obviously thought so too. And the place itself was nice enough - a basic, suburban strip-mall kind of bar, with enough TVs to keep sports fans happy. So I don't mean to dissuade anyone from going there, if you're so inclined. But I wouldn't make a point of going just for the pizza, which I'm afraid rates a D from me.
Lucky's Irish Bar, 2325 Buffalo Rd (Tops Plaza), Gates
426-5825
Open Mon. - Sat. 11 a.m. - 2 a.m.. Sun. noon - 2 a.m.
(Second location at 3240 Chili Ave. in Chili Paul Plaza), 889-1005

Fiamma, Buffalo Road

This past summer, I decided to take a drive over to General Hoock's on Buffalo Road, a pizzeria I hadn't been to for a while, just for an update. I was disappointed to see that it was closed, but my disappointment was partially mitigated by the sign in the window advertising a wood-fired pizzeria opening in that space soon.
I've been to enough wood-fired pizzerias by now to know that the presence of a wood-burning oven is no guarantee of great pizza, so while I was interested, I wasn't overly excited about the news.
A couple of weeks ago, I drove by again, and noticed that the restaurant had opened, under the name Fiamma. I arranged to meet some friends there for lunch.
The pizza portion of the menu was broken down into two categories: Le Pizze Tradizionali, and Le Pizze Specialita, each of which had a Margherita on it. On the traditional side was a $12 Margherita with tomato sauce, mozzarella, fresh basil, extra virgin olive oil, and Gran Cru cheese. The specialty Margherita, at $16, came with San Marzano tomato sauce, imported buffalo milk mozzarella, cherry tomatoes, oregano, basil, Gran Cru cheese, and extra virgin olive oil.
As I understood the menu, all of Fiamma's pizzas are made with San Marzano tomatoes, and though I was tempted to spring for the specialty version, I ended up going for the regular, "traditional" Margherita. Both my friends ordered a Diavola, which comes with tomato sauce, mozzarella, soppressata, basil, and spicy olive oil, also at $12.
Truth be told, I was a little taken aback by the prices. I know you can pay $5 for a single slice in New York City, but Fiamma's prices seemed a tad high for this area, especially for a pizzeria in a small strip plaza on a relatively nondescript stretch of Buffalo Road in Gates. Still, I tried to keep an open mind, and hope for the best.
Or at least I thought I was hoping for the best. What I got was better than what I had hoped for, and by the time I was done, the prices seemed eminently reasonable.
On arrival, the pie looked like a pretty good, if typical, wood-fired Margherita. But the closer I looked, the more intrigued I became.
First, there was the charring. I've had wood-fired pies that have a nice charred edge, but a pale underside. It's almost as if the charring is just there for show. And then there are some that are, quite frankly, burnt. There is a difference between charred and burnt, and to be sure, some customers aren't aware of that distinction, complaining that their pizza is burnt when in fact it's simply charred, on the surface. But some pizzaioli don't always seem to know the difference, either, serving up burnt pies and explaining that they're "supposed" to look that way.
This pizza showed the difference. It was lightly charred along the edge, and speckled with char spots underneath, across its bottom surface. In other words, it wasn't just blackened around the perimeter, by being exposed to the open flame for a few seconds - it was charred (not burnt) from the flame, yes, but also from coming into direct contact with a very hot oven floor. The edge was thick, but not heavy or dense, with crisp bubbles of charred dough encasing a series of small air pockets.
Despite the charring of the crust, the toppings didn't appear to be overdone at all. The fresh mozzarella had melted beautifully into the sauce, and the basil was wilted but still retained some of its vibrant green color.
What really struck me most, though, visually, was not the charring. On lifting up one side of my pizza (pizzas here arrive at the table unsliced, as in Italy), I found that the crust was actually translucent. If you've made bread or pizza, you probably are familiar with the "windowpane" test, which involves stretching a small piece of dough in your fingers. If you can stretch the dough thin enough for light to pass through it without the dough tearing, the gluten has been adequately developed. If it tears, keep kneading. This entire pie had been stretched to that point,with no holes or tears.
But the proof of the pizza is in the eating. If the crust were overly dry, or floppy, or flavorless, then its translucence would be no more than an impressive, but purely technical achievement. I mean, I can stretch Silly Putty until it's paper-thin, too, but I wouldn't want to eat it.
Happily, this pizza delivered on that score as well. For all its thinness, the crust was neither dried out nor limp, retaining enough structural integrity to bear the weight of the toppings, yet supple enough to fold without cracking.
As for the flavor - even before it reached my mouth, this pizza greeted my nostrils with its aroma, an enticing blend of toasty crust, tomatoes and basil. Those flavors - as felicitous a trinity as any in gastronomy - carried through on the palate. The sauce was rich, with a hint of sweetness from the tomatoes, and judiciously applied, as were the smooth, creamy slices of fresh mozzarella and the torn leaves of basil.
I did sample one of my companions' Diavola pies, which was also outstanding, broadly similar to the Margherita but with a peppery kick and the added textural dimension of thinly sliced soppressata. But I was more than happy with the subtle simplicity of my Margherita.
Particularly on a first visit, I rarely identify myself as a pizza blogger, and to the extent possible, I try to be subtle about taking notes and photos. I'm not looking for special treatment. But I had to meet the person responsible for this pizza.
That would be 32-year-old Giuseppe Paciullo, a native of Salerno, Italy, who learned his craft as a youngster before bringing his skills to New York City, where he spent the last few years before moving here. He told me that his girlfriend, who's from Rochester, convinced him to come here and open his own pizzeria, and all I can say is, thank you, girlfriend.
Talk with Giuseppe for a few minutes and you'll realize how devoted he is to pizza. With the exception of the fresh basil, all his ingredients are imported from Italy. I'm all for buying American, but this tells me that Giuseppe knows his ingredients, knows what he needs to make the pizza he has in mind, and will settle for nothing less.
Fiamma's oven burns a blend of hardwoods, which is the only heat source. And what a heat source. Giuseppe told me that the oven temperature generally reaches about 1000 degrees.
I used to think that stuff about extremely high oven temperatures was just so much hype, but I can't argue with the results here. As I spoke with Giuseppe, I watched as he put two pies in the oven, turning them every few seconds, and then took them out after what couldn't have been more than two minutes, perfectly done.
(That heat, I'm sure, is directly related to the thinness of the crusts. A thick crust would either come out with an underdone interior or a burnt exterior. But these? Perfect.)
Fiamma is a small place, with just a few tables and a small bar, which is awaiting its liquor license (although they appeared to have wine). Unless I'm way off the mark, you may soon find it packed on many nights, so I'd get there ASAP. They don't deliver, either - this is not the kind of pizza that you want to spend 30 minutes in a box before it gets to you. Only sheer willpower kept me from devouring my entire pie at lunch, and although it seems a crime to put this into a styrofoam container, I wanted my wife and daughter to be able to try it, even under less than ideal conditions (we'll all go there as a family soon, I assure you).
I've never been to Italy *sigh* but my gut tells me that this is as close as I've come, pizzawise. Forgive me if I've strayed into hyperbole here at times, but this was some of the best pizza I've had, period. It was right in so many ways, from the charring to the light, crisp, supple texture of the crust to the blend of flavors of the toppings ... well, I've think I've said all that I can. The next step is for you to go there and try it for yourself. Do I guarantee you'll like it as much as I did? No, and I never would. People's tastes can differ. But if your taste in pizza is anywhere close to mine, and I'm thinking it probably is if you're reading this blog, do yourself a favor and try Fiamma. It's a great example of the pizzamaker's art.
Fiamma, 1308 Buffalo Road, Gates
585-270-4683
email: info@fiammarochester.com
Lunch Mon. - Fri. 11:30 - 2:30
Dinner Mon. - Sat. 4:30 - 10:00
Sunday for private parties only