Ralph & Rosie's Deli, Bergen

Ralph & Rosie's Deli in Bergen, Genesee County, is a little farther away than I would ordinarily travel for a pizza, but I'd run across more than one online review saying how good their pizza was and I had to give it a try.
When I ordered, the guy asked if I wanted "regular" or "sweet" sauce. I wasn't expecting this question, so I asked what was more popular, and he said the sweet. Although the idea of a sweet pizza sauce wouldn't typically appeal to me, I figured if that's what the locals like, let's check it out.
I went to pick it up in Bergen, which is one of those sleepy-looking, Mayberryesque villages that makes you feels as if you've stumbled into a John Cougar Mellencamp video. It's the kind of place that has one of each "hometown" business: one bakery, one bar, one antique shop, and, of course, one pizzeria, Ralph & Rosie's. R&R's sits next to an American Legion post in the middle of the two-block long business district, which consists of a row of well-preserved brick buildings along the main drag, Lake Ave. (the lake in this case being Lake Ontario, about 20 miles north).
Well, you get the picture. Let's move on to the pizza. On first look, it wasn't too visually impressive. It had a puffy thickness, and the golden brown bottom showed that it had been cooked on a screen. The cheese was lightly browned here and there.
Taking a bite, one of the first things I noticed was the sweet sauce. Now admittedly I was paying extra attention to the sauce, but I think I would've noticed it right away even if I hadn't been. It wasn't super, sugary sweet, but it lacked the acidic tang of a typical pizza sauce. I guess "sweet" here is a relative term, then, as I would only call this sweet in comparison to most other sauces.
The sauce was a major player here, as was the crust. It was soft and doughy, with a dinner-roll-like texture, and a slightly oily crunchiness along the edges.
The cheese was applied moderately, and definitely took a back seat to both the sauce and the crust. The pepperoni was the wide-and-thin variety.
The verdict? Well, I wouldn't call this world-class pizza by any means, as I was not too crazy about the crust. Too soft, doughy and bland for my tastes.
But more important than that, this pizza was distinctive. I didn't drive half an hour just to get a generic pizza, and that's not what I got. In this era of homogenization and retail chains, it's important to hold onto some things that are unique, and to my mind pizza is one of the most important parts of everyday life that needs to stay that way. I can still remember vividly the pizzas I had from a number of pizzerias in my home town when I was growing up, most of which are now gone forever. And I can see why for Bergenites (Bergenians? Bergeners?), Ralph & Rosie's sweet pizza will always be their hometown pizza, like no other.
Trying to stay objective, I'll give this a C+, though I can understand why locals might consider it an A+.

Chester Cab, Park Ave.

According to its menu, Chester Cab traces its roots back to 1982, when the owner opened The Pizza Station in Seabreeze. At some point he moved his operation to Park Ave. and renamed it Chester Cab.
Chester Cab's specialty is "Chicago Stuffed Pizza," which the owner learned how to make at "Glorandono's" (I think he means "Giordano's") in Chicago. But they also offer "regular pizza" that is advertised as "baked on the hearth." A slice - billed as a "Slice of Heaven" - is described on the menu as a "Crispy New York style pizza Ray would be proud of." I presume that's a reference to the mysterious "Ray" whose name adorns many New York City pizzerias.
On this lunchtime occasion, I had to break my own rule about ordering whatever a pizzeria's "standard" pizza is, and opted for a thin slice instead of the stuffed pizza. For one thing, the menu says that they need 45 minutes to an hour to make a stuffed pizza. For another, I didn't want that much for lunch, nor did I want a lot of leftovers. Plus, to me, the stuffed/deep dish/pan stuff isn't exactly pizza. It's more like lasagna made with dough instead of pasta. I'm not saying it's bad, mind you; I just don't think "pizza" is the right word for it. (Which is not to say that Chicago has no "true" pizza, as you can see here.)
Anyway, that's a long introduction to my cheese slice (from what I could tell, Chester Cab's slices all start out as plain cheese, and if you want a topping, it is added to the slice, which is then reheated in the oven). Size-wise, it fell somewhere between an "ordinary" slice and a "mega" slice.
The first thing I noticed about it was the paleness of the cheese. No brown spots at all, and it was fairly thick, with a resemblance to the just-melted cheese you might get on a restaurant cheeseburger.
The crust was thin-to-medium, but the slice itself seemed thicker because of the thick layer of cheese and sauce. The underside bore a fair amount of charring, which was kind of surprising given the barely-melted appearance of the cheese. That indicates that the floor of the oven is pretty hot, but not too much of that heat seemed to make it to the top surface, where the cheese is. As is often the case with "hearth baked" pizza, it wasn't greasy at all.
Though fairly thin, the crust wasn't really foldable. It was more crunchy/crackly than pliable.
Biting into it, the first thing I noticed - aside from the crunchiness - was the sauce. That was also kind of unusual, since sauce tends to stay in the background at most pizzerias. This sauce was laid on rather thickly, and had a sweet, herb-infused flavor. The crust, on the other hand, was on the bland side, as was the cheese, which seemed to be straight mozzarella.
If the sauce provided the dominant flavor, the crust and cheese provided the two contrasting textural elements. Each bite brought a crunch-crunch-crunch of the crust, as well as the offsetting texture of melted mozzarella (I can think of no perfect adjective for the texture of melted cheese - if you know of one, please leave a comment). Surprisingly, the cheese was actually the least dominant of the three components.
Chester Cab also offers subs, wings, salads and a few other hot and cold items. Seating is pretty much limited to some outdoor picnic tables. They have a pretty wide delivery area, though the $2 delivery charge is on the steep side for this area. On the other hand, my $2.50 slice was pretty reasonable, and their online menu has several printable coupon deals.
All in all, this wasn't bad pizza, and it was certainly distinctive. It was one of those pizzas where each of the three main components - crust, sauce and cheese - stands out individually, rather than melding into a unified whole. I would definitely not call this NY style pizza, though; for starters, there was just a little too much of everything - crust, sauce, and cheese, as if betraying its "stuffed" roots. But on its own merits, though, it was pretty decent. I'll give it a B-.
Pizza Guy note:  see my review of Chester Cab's Chicago stuffed pizza here.

Mr. Shoes, South Ave. & E. Henrietta Rd.

Mr. Shoes has been around for quite a few years, and as I recall, used to have a bunch of locations around the Rochester area. Now they're down to just one, at the intersection of South Ave. and East Henrietta Rd., just north of Westfall Rd.
I got a pepperoni slice at lunchtime (I don't exactly love pepperoni, but if you're getting a slice, pepperoni tends to be the freshest because it sells the most).
They don't seem to advertise it - in fact, they don't seem to advertise too much at all - but this is one of those "mega slice" places. And this was a big slice. Maybe not the biggest I've ever seen in terms of surface area, but certainly among the biggest in terms of weight. It was big, thick, and heavy.
The thickness of the dough wasn't just from rising a lot; it was a fairly dense, chewy crust. It was just plain thick.
The bottom showed that it had been cooked on a screen. The dark brown of the bottom surface indicated a relatively long cooking time, at a relatively low temperature, which is probably necessary to cook the dough all the way through. That gave the exterior a slightly toasted flavor.
The exterior was pretty soft. Only along the braided edge of the crust was there a pleasant crunchiness, which I would've liked more of underneath.
Despite its thickness, the crust, which was rather bland on the interior, was almost an afterthought, what with the heavy toppings. The somewhat salty sauce was laid on thickly, and atop that was a thick, gooey layer of melted cheese. Try to hold this slice in one hand, and a chunk of the cheese will simply slide right off the pointy end, taking some of the pepperoni or other toppings along with it.
The pepperoni was basic, wide-and-thin stuff, adding a bit of flavor and grease.
Mr. Shoes has a fairly wide menu, with some specialty pizzas, wings, pasta, subs, various fried stuff, and even some desserts. There is some seating, but it's mostly takeout and probably a lot of delivery.
This may sound like a putdown, but as I was eating this slice the word that came to mind was "pancake." With its thickness, soft chewy texture and browned exterior, it was kind of like eating a pancake, minus the sweetness, and with a heavy layer of sauce and cheese instead of syrup. To me, this is not great pizza, but if you want a lot of food for a little money (I got a slice and a Coke and got a buck and change for my $5) this'll do it. I'll give it a C.
Mr. Shoes, 1921 South Ave.
Sunday – Thursday: 11a.m.– 9:30p.m., Friday & Saturday: 11a.m.– 10:30p.m.