Pizza NOTA

Pizzerias open and pizzerias close, but I was more than a little intrigued when I saw recently that Pizza NOTA had opened in the Neighborhood of the Arts in Rochester. They bill themselves as offering something along the lines of New Haven (Ct.) style pizza, which as far as I know is a first for this area.

So why is that a big deal? In a nutshell, New Haven style pizza is sort of like New York style pizza, but not exactly. And devotees of each will tell you why one is better than the other. There's an abundance of stuff about it online, but for a primer, go here or here. I've been to New Haven and tried a few of places, and I've read quite a bit about it, so I had an idea of the style going in. 

NOTA seems a bit unsure of where they stand; their website describes their pies as "Inspired by New Haven’s iconic char," but "finished with a touch of New York influence." Not quite sure what that means, but my interest was piqued by seeing that NOTA has a coal-fired oven. I don't want to get into a long digression here, but coal-fired ovens are typical of New Haven's long-established pizzerias, and some of NYC's older pizzerias as well.  Coal was the fuel of choice way back when primarily because it was more readily available, and there are some differences between coal- and wood-fired ovens in terms of temperature, maintaining the fire, oven humidity, and so on. Read more here. 

My wife and I shared one pizza, along with a salad.  So the question was, which pizza to order? Several sounded interesting, but since this was our first time here, I figured we'd go with a classic New Haven pizza, the tomato pie. NOTA's version is described as topped with Bianco DiNapoli tomato, garlic, pecorino, Parmesan, Sicilian oregano, and EVOO (no mozzarella). 

Upon its arrival at our table, our pie was blackened along the edge and blistered underneath. There was almost no cornicione to speak of; the edge was just barely thicker than the rest of the crust, and the sauce was also applied nearly all the way to the rim.

One of the most striking aspects of the pizza was how thin the crust was. It was literally translucent. 

So there wasn't much interior. It was a nicely charred bottom and the toppings, but with almost nothing in between.

At this point I will pause to address "authenticity" and style points, as in, is this how New Haven style pizza is "supposed" to be?

I'll digress long enough to say that (1) I've had New Haven pizza, but I'm no expert; (2) there are differences among New Haven pizzerias, so there are no hard and fast rules, just general characteristics; and (3) I don't put too much emphasis on that sort of stuff anyway. If I were judging this in a competition in the category of New Haven style pizza, sure. 

But as much as I enjoy trying different pizza styles, as a blog writer I try to focus more on simply describing the pizza, allowing for some subjective impressions, with less emphasis on measuring it against some Platonic ideal. Perhaps I hold a more Aristotelian view of pizza. It's hard to say because neither Plato nor Aristotle were familiar with pizza, although they probably did enjoy the occasional flatbread.

Wait, where was I? 

Oh yes. In my estimation this fell within the parameters of the New Haven style, based on my own experience and what I've read and seen about New Haven pizza: thin, charred, and chewy.

But to re-digress for a moment to the subject of style, if I were a stickler for that sort of thing I could ding NOTA in a few nitpicky respects.

For starters, I was a bit surprised to see that they offer no clam pizza, which is perhaps the most iconic New Haven variety. I'm not even saying I like clam pizza, just that I was surprised.

Second:  too round. Yes, too round. For reasons that have never been explained to my satisfaction, purported authorities on the subject have asserted that New Haven pizza is not supposed to be circular, but sort of oblong or "roundish." If you don't believe me, ask AI, which is never wrong about these sorts of things.

That was actually a valuable piece of information, though, as I've discovered that shapewise at least, I've been making New Haven style pizza all these years; despite my best efforts I have yet to get a pie to come out perfectly round. I'll have to remember that next time I serve homemade pizza to guests. ("Uh, yeaah?!  It's New Haven style! It's supposed to look that way!")

Third: it's all described as "pizza." As the pizza intelligentsia (fancy word for snobs) know, in New Haven, it's not "pizza," it's "apizza," which for still more inexplicable reasons is pronounced "ah-beetz." Maybe that's where the New York attitude comes in? ("Ah-beetz? What da **** is ah-beetz? Whaddaya, from Noo Haven or sumpin?")

Next digression. When I went to New Haven a few years ago I had a serious dilemma about how to pronounce the word when I got there. Say "pizza" and you sound like a tourist (which I was, but that doesn't mean I want to sound like one). Say "ah-beetz" and you seem like you're trying too hard to sound like a local. My solution was to avoid saying the word at all ("I'd like a clam pie"). Not once did "pizza" or anything close to it come out of my mouth. 

I also got a look at Pizza NOTA's oven. I saw flames, but I couldn't directly see the source of them. It didn't directly resemble a coal-fired oven like those I'd seen at some of New Haven's oldest pizzerias, where there's a pile of burning coal in the back of the oven chamber. The flames were coming up from some hidden source at the back of but beneath the oven deck.

I wanted to ask questions, but they were getting busy, so I didn't, but I was left with some questions. Like, is the oven "gas-assisted"? How is the coal used? Coal or charcoal? If coal, what kind? And not least, what kind of legal and regulatory hoops do you have to jump through to use coal as a heat source these days? I'm guessing one cannot have an old-style coal oven anymore, and that you're looking at quite an expense to meet current standards.

Questions for another day. Which there will be. This was very good pizza, and I can't say I've had another in our area that quite compares to it. One of the most heartening things over the years since I started this blog is how the range of choices in our area has expanded. Pizza NOTA offers something genuinely different, and it was no one-and-done kind of place for me. I plan to go back to try some other varieties, and to learn more about their pizza.

Pizza NOTA

192 Anderson Ave.

Rochester, NY 14607

Thu. 4:00 pm – 8:00 pm

Fri.   12:00 pm – 08:00 pm

Sat.   12:00 pm – 08:00 pm
    
Sun.   3:00 pm – 08:00 pm

Closed Mon. - Wed.       

Guest Post: New Haven Pizza

(Pizza Guy note: in a divergence from past practice, I have agreed to publish a guest post. Craig Ephraim has been a faithful follower of this blog, and its associated Facebook page, for many years. I knew from some of his previous comments and inquiries that he is not only knowledgeable on the subject of pizza, but a particular devotee of New Haven (Ct.) pizza, which is reputed to be among the best in the country. Sadly, I have not been there, but when Craig told me he'd recently taken a pilgrimage to New Haven, I readily agreed to publish his account here. The only alterations I have made are the addition of links to the pizzerias he references.)

Recently, I had the pleasure of meeting the Rochester Pizza Guy. As a subscriber and fan of his for years, we would occasionally discuss my love of New Haven (CT) pizza and my ongoing search to find similar pizza in the Rochester area. As we had lunch (pizza, of course!), he asked me more about what makes New Haven pizza different. He was kind enough to agree to let me put my thoughts down as a post in his blog.
I grew up in the New Haven, CT area, so I may be biased. But, it seems that many of the “Top Pizzerias in America” lists agree with me – New Haven pizza is the best in the country. There are a few characteristics of New Haven “apizza” (pronounced “abeets”) that set it apart. As a style of Neapolitan pizza, it starts with a thin crust. But, this pizza is traditionally cooked in brick ovens fired by COAL! You see, the most famous pizzerias in New Haven made their debut in the 1920s, as southern Italian families immigrated to the Wooster Square area of New Haven, aka: “Little Italy”. Coal was cheap and plentiful back then, and proved to be a successful way to make the ideal pizza pie, as it allowed the ovens to heat to very high temperatures of at least 650degF. The crusts come out firm, yet flexible, chewy, and charred (not burned!) on top and bottom. The dough is made such that bubbles form during the cooking process. While the cornicione has a modest crunch, the pizza requires folding to handle. Some believe that the coal may actually add some flavor to the crust, but I’m not sure I agree, as the coal is used below the surface of the oven, not inside the oven as with wood-fired pizza. Check out the pile of coal in Sally’s kitchen!
New Haven pizza is also a bit messy, topped by a fine layer of “mootz” (as mozzarella is pronounced here) only upon request! A “regular” pie has tomato sauce only! It also traditionally has a decent amount of oil. Be prepared to burn the roof of your mouth on that first bite! The topping options are also what we have discovered sets New Haven apart from other areas of the country. Whereas the typical Rochester pizza joint uses “precooked” bacon, usually cut into very small pieces, New Haven pizzerias start with UNCOOKED bacon in large 1-1.5in strips. Yup! Uncooked! If you love bacon (who doesn’t?!?) you will absolutely LOVE the way these pies come out of these hot ovens. The bacon cooks just enough to give a good feel in your mouth and between your teeth, and the bacon fat renders right onto the slice, making a bacon pie even a little bit sloppier! Get your napkins ready! Check out this bacon pie from Modern Apizza. My mouth is watering!

While bacon is our “go-to pie”, another classic New Haven pizza is the White Clam pizza. While most places start with canned clams, Pepe’s and Modern use fresh littleneck clams, and Pepe’s actually shucks their clams on-site! A traditional white pie with garlic, olive oil, and parmesan cheese, the addition of salty clam pieces make for a gastronomical party in your mouth. I *have* been able to find a couple places in the Rochester area that have a white clam pie, but not on this crust. The combination is award-winning. Don’t believe me? Google it. Check out this white clam from The Spot. Unfortunately, we were so anxious to eat it, that we took a couple bites before the picture was snapped!

These pictures were all taken in May, 2016, when my dad, brother, nephew and I had our second “Pizza Pilgrimage”. This one was in New Haven, our home turf. The first one was in Brooklyn, where, while we enjoyed pizzas at “famous” Brooklyn pizzerias like DiFara’s, Lucali’s, and Totonno’s, we all agreed that New Haven pizza is better than all of them. Again, biased? Maybe. But, check out where places rank in the “best of” lists:

Pepe’s Pizzeria Napoletana, established 1925. The original Pepe’s is now called “The Spot”, and is located right next door to the “new” Pepe’s. In fact, they share a parking lot.

Modern Apizza, established 1934. While Modern’s ovens were originally “coke-fueled”, they are now open flame, oil-fueled brick oven.

Sally’s Appiza, established 1938. Sally’s is known for a “no-frills experience”. Although the service has gotten better with new ownership, don’t be surprised if your waiter throws the pie down on the table and grumbles when your phone is in the way. And, don’t look at the floor or the “bathroom”. You’re there for the pizza.

There are others in the New Haven area that some people claim can be added to this list. We tried a couple of them again during this latest pilgrimage. But, they just don’t compare to this trio.

We all agree that Modern is the best. Sally’s is close (if you can ignore the service), and Pepe’s and The Spot are still better than any other pizza you will try.

Thanks to the Rochester Pizza Guy’s awesome reviews, I have tried out a BUNCH of places in the area that I was hoping would recreate the New Haven experience, or at least come close. While places like Pizza Stop, Fiamma, Tony D’s, and Joe’s Brooklyn (extra-large slices only) come close, they all fail to satisfy the craving for traditional New Haven style apizza I get every time I think of home.