[Photograph: J. Kenji Lopez-Alt]
It was with overwhelming horror and self-loathing that I just realized my earlier post of animals eating pizza omitted the most important animal pizza video of them all...Hambone's personal pizza party.
Without further ado, may I (re)present:
[Video: Jessica Leibowitz of My Camera Eats Food
I took one for the team with this one [Photograph: Yvonne Ruperti]
It's interesting, to say the least, when you live in a location where Chinese New Year takes over the entire country. Prior to Singapore, my only experience has been to notice celebratory decorations inside Chinese restaurants. Here, it's everywhere, and it has been going on for weeks up to the actual holiday this past weekend.
Getting ready for New Years parade. [Photograph: Yvonne Ruperti]
As you probably know, it's now the year of the snake. During this time of year many folks like to have the lion dance performed in front of their home or business, just for a little extra insurance in the good luck department. The sound of drums permeates the air for days and days as the performers roam from shop to shop. I love watching the lion dance. I just want to cuddle the giant furry cartoon head.
Lantern snake along South Bridge Road [Photograph: Yvonne Ruperti]
Here's the dance being performed at Maxwell Food Court, my local hawker center. (I actually shot this video last year, but it's exactly the same every year.)
Street vendors set up shop in huge tents, some auctioning off wares well into the early morning, mandarin bushes adorn everyone's front doors, and foods abound with prefixes like 'abundance', 'lucky', 'prosperous', and 'wealthy'. It's all about good fortune this time of year, and after missing out on last year's Fortune Bag Pizza at Pizza Hut Singapore, I was not gonna miss out on the fortune pizza this year: cheese stuffed, golden coin shaped pizza topped with golden pumpkin paste, bits of taro (to symbolize gold and a good year ahead), pineapple (for prosperity), diced BBQ chicken, and mushrooms. How could I resist?
In hindsight, I should have.
It came coin-shaped with a container of crispy wonton strips to sprinkle on top. I couldn't detect any chicken at all on this pizza—oh wait a minute, that's what the sweet ham chippy things really were (chicken bakkwa). The tasteless, pasty taro cubes were strange, and the pumpkin paste was just sweet. And you can't miss the cheese surprise lurking in the crust.
I really could have used a beer to keep my spirits up and wash it all down, but my husband somehow hit gold and polished off three slices. I won't lie, it wasn't exactly inedible. The worst part was that for exactly the same price as this pizza ($24 SG) I could have had a wood fired squash blossom, burrata, and tomato pizza at Pizzeria Mozza right down the road.
About the Author: Yvonne Ruperti is a food writer, recipe developer, former bakery owner, and author of The Complete Idiot's Guide To Easy Artisan Bread. You can also watch her culinary stylings on the America's Test Kitchen television show. She presently lives in Singapore working on her new baking cookbook, and as a recipe developer for HungryGoWhere Singapore. Check out her blog: shophousecook.com . Follow Yvonne on Twitter.
[Photograph: Paintyourpizza.com]
I'm sure most of us would agree that pizza-making is an art, but how about pizza as art? The recent launch of Paintyourpizza.com takes "custom toppings" to a whole new, utterly terrifying level: At long last, there exists the perfect platform from which to unleash your inner creative preschooler on poor, innocent pizzas.
It's simple, really. Visit Paintyourpizza.com, illustrate your wildest pizza concepts (in an app that bears an uncanny resemblance to MS Paint circa 1998), and then have that edible masterpiece delivered to your door for a mere $36.
WAIT! Before you rush off to self-express, let it be known that you can't order the actual pizzas just yet. But creator Jonas Lund is hard at work with New York's Ray's Pizza to turn your pie fantasies into horrifying pie reality. Once things get going, he hopes to expand nationwide, and the process is slated to look more or less like this:
Paint Your Pizza from Jonas Lund on Vimeo.
In the off chance that this isn't glaringly obvious, it's worth mentioning that Lund hasn't always been about pizza — as you may have noted, it doesn't appear that you even get to specify what toppings are represented by the array of 7 colors on the site (we're dying to know what they use for purple). The artist's original concept was The Paintshop, described on his site as "a real time collaborative painting tool offering you the possibility to sell your artworks and buy great pieces of art for very competitive prices."
According to The Creator's Project, a severe shortage of interested buyers (a mere 3 paintings were purchased from a selection of over 3,500 works) prompted Lund to make some changes to his business model. The Swedish transplant may have settled on a more buzz-worthy medium, but it remains to be seen how this newest endeavor fares. Suffice it to say that we'll be revisiting this particular topic the moment those pizzas are available for purchase. In the meantime, let us know what you'd like to see on a Serious Eats-painted pie!
About the author:Niki Achitoff-Gray is the editor of Slice and a part-time student at The Institute of Culinary Education. She like offal. A lot.
Partners Nancy Silverton, Mario Batali, and Joe Bastianich have made quite the splash in L.A.'s restaurant scene since opening Pizzeria Mozza in 2007. Now, the trio is getting ready to open new branches in San Diego and New York.
With additional sites already up and running in Newport Beach and Singapore, it's hardly a surprise that the restaurant group intends further expansion. But according to The Hollywood Reporter, the New York Mozza is due to open in the least likely of places: JFK Airport.
With chef-entrepreneurs like Wolfgang Puck already colonizing "express" airport dining, it will be interesting to see how Silverton manages Mozza's quality and reputation as it transitions to a lower-end environment. At the very least, we know where we'll be eating the next time we're between flights!
Ahh, the sweet smell of an empire rising.
About the author:Niki Achitoff-Gray is the editor of Slice and a part-time culinary student at The Institute of Culinary Education. She like offal. A lot.
Aw, here, put some My Pie Monday on that Tuesday! We're back from President's Day with an array of 18 scrumptious pies to trigger your inner pizzaolo.***
First off, a warm welcome to a slew of new contributors! Suziey and Eric K. both join MPM with some classic Margheritas, and Moo102 comes to us with a first time EVER pizza! Kenji's Foolproof Pan Pizza continues to yield stunning results from the likes of harrycaul, Kenneth K, and Bloo. On steel, we have a cheddar pie from Florida9, a Quadruple Chili Threat-inspired pizza from imwalkin, and a jalapeño popper pie by way of Okaru.
Meanwhile, some intriguing combos emerge on the toppings front. Charliel7 brings us caramelized onions, sausage, and "yabbies" (it's an Australian thing!). Amusebouche1 gives roasted grapes, maple walnut, and goat cheese a shot, and goes from skeptic to believer. Oh, and pizza gets a sweet new 'do from Jamesws, who assembles some golden, buttery looking triangles.
Norma wows us yet again with a Detroit-style pie, this time graced with a 3 meat combo. On the other end of the spectrum, surcredibility shares a delicate pizza bianca with olive oil, fennel seeds, grated garlic, and sprinkle of pecorino. Jimmyg's recipe for success taps Sicilian sausage, Brussels Sprouts, and chili flakes, while Kenposurf whips out a rustic wholewheat pie. Last, but far from least, Millions whisks us off our feet with a perfect heart-shaped Valentine's Day pie. Shame on all the rest of you lackluster romantics! Good thing you make some damn fine pizza, or we'd have a real problem.
Click through the slideshow to view the full lineup in all its pizzalicious glory. And if you're crafting your own pizza this week, please do send us a shot for next week's My Pie Monday! Just take one horizontal snapshot of your homemade pizza (at least 610px by 458px, please!), briefly describe your cooking method, and follow these instructions to get it to Slice HQ by 8pm EST on Thursday night. Be sure to let us know your Slice/Serious Eats username!
Want to peruse more pizza beauty shots? Right this way! No, please, after you »
***A formal apology is owed to TXCraig1, as somebody left his pie out of this week's original post. His Detroit-style pie with jalapeños and bacon can now be found in the slideshow. Sorry, Craig!***
About the author:Niki Achitoff-Gray is the editor of Slice and a part-time student at the Institute of Culinary Education. She's pretty big into pizza. Also, she likes offal. A lot.
[Photographs: Casey Barber]
For bookworms of a certain age, Pizza Hut's new Big Pizza Sliders will likely elicit flashbacks to the Book It! reading program that was all the rage in elementary schools in the mid-'80s (and apparently still exists, though in modified form). As a voracious reader who earned her share of personal pan pizzas—I think I was up to one a week when the program was going full steam—tearing into one of these even-more-personally-sized pies took me right back to the days of smeary vinyl gingham tablecloths and deep-dish indulgences.
If you're already a Pizza Hut fan, the sliders aren't going to take your love of pan pizza to a whole new stratospheric level. If you're not a fan, these aren't going to be the Pizza Hut product that changes your mind. The sliders are merely 3 1/2-inch personal pies. They're not pizza bagels; the disc is flat with no center hole. And they're certainly not changing the way you eat pizza forever. They're just small pizzas, folks!
Actually, they're mostly a thick puck of bread crust with the requisite golden brown, faux-buttery bottom. I'll admit that the crispy pan edge, slightly oozing with grease, is my favorite part of a Pizza Hut pizza. It's like "butter flavor" on your movie popcorn: you know it's not good for you, but the combination of salt, fat, and carbs is too hard to resist.
The sauce is that immediately identifiable salty Pizza Hut sauce, with its melange of garlic and herbs, and the cheese is that congeal-y, gooey-in-a-plastic-kind-of-way Pizza Hut cheese. Nothing revolutionary, no new formulas to be found, and hence, no surprises or disappointments...
...Until we come to the toppings. You can customize each batch of three sliders with up to three toppings, and in the name of science, I went three ways with my 9-piece order ($10): ham and green pepper (my childhood go-to combo), black olive and pineapple (my long-time favorite), and pepperoni, jalapeño, and mushroom, for kicks. But the pathetic smattering of bits across all nine of my sliders—a few sad strips of green pepper, minuscule bits of desiccated mushrooms, scattered ham slices—looked more like afterthoughts than the main event.
My beloved black olive-and-pineapple fared the best of the three, with a healthy, even dusting of both toppings across the batch. Taste-wise, the combinations satisfied when I was able to get a full bite of all the flavors together (the pepperoni and jalapeño in particular being something I'll return to for a home-cooked pizza). Overall, however, it was an underwhelming showing for what seemed to be the biggest selling point for the sliders.
The most enthusiastic reaction to the pizza came from Harry, my 15-pound porker of a cat, who had previously established a taste for Totino's Pizza Rolls. Otherwise a gentleman, when Harry sees a piece of food he wants, he lets you know—loudly—that he's about to stake his claim. Launching onto the chair and sniffing out his prey, he dragged a half-eaten carcass of pizza from the plate to the floor and attacked with gusto. Even if he managed to down a jalapeño during his sneak attack, he had no complaints.
For families with a Pizza Hut preference who are sick of mediating the toppings fight between their picky kids, the sliders will no doubt find favor. But for the love of pete, Pizza Hut, could you be a little less tightfisted with your toppings? The sad showing on these sliders left a bad taste in my mouth. (Not my cat's, though.)
[Photograph: Spaceballs, 1987]
Ah, Hollywood. Land of broken dreams...
Pshhh. Right. Maybe if you're a loser. But obviously, pizza is not a loser. Fact: Pizza is most decidedly a winner. Proof: Pizza is a big movie star.
So, without further ado, here's a brilliant montage of pizza's greatest celebrity appearances, which comes to us by way of Slice reader and BuzzFeed contributor, Travis Rand Greenwood.
[Video: Travis Rand Greenwood, for BuzzFeed]
Want to weigh in with your favorite pizza movie moments? Visit our poll »
Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles
Loverboy
The Jerk
Wayne's World
Stripes
Spider-Man 2
Saturday Night Fever
Spaceballs
Slap Shot
Men At Work
The Goonies
Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles
Fast Times At Ridgemont High
Bio-Dome
Fast Times (redux)
Do The Right Thing
Dog Day Afternoon
Back To The Future 2
Die Hard
Goodfellas
Be Kind Rewind
The Bicycle Thief
Do The Right Thing
The Net
Dodgeball: A True Underdog Story
The Gold Of Naples
E.T. The Extra Terrestrial
Half Baked
Home Alone
Manhattan
Mars Attacks!
Bio-Dome
Nightmare On Elm Street 4: The Dream Master
Rock 'N' Roll High School
Scott Pilgrim Vs. The World
Sixteen Candles
Stripes
Home Alone
Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles
About the author:Niki Achitoff-Gray is the editor of Slice and a part-time student at the Institute of Culinary Education. She's pretty big into pizza. Also, she likes offal. A lot.
Redundant much? [Photographs, Clockwise from top left: Adam Kuban, Nutrition.gov, Robyn Lee]
First off, let's get the "well obviously it depends" bit out of the way. We can probably all agree that there's some pretty heinously hazardous pizza out there. For instance:
Anything, and I mean an-y-thing has the capacity to be made unhealthy. And I'm not just talking about whatever terrifying creature was just birthed in that video—from coffee to eggs, we've all watched foods get jerked to and fro by contradictory findings and capricious health reports. Pizza has become quite the fickle mistress; at least for those who tune into such debates. Depending on who, where, and when you are, the medical community may or may not deem pizza a worthy calorie source. Meaning that they clearly cannot be trusted.
So we want to know, Ultimate Pizza Sandwich monstrosities and media mouthpieces aside, how do you rate your average pizza serving, on a scale of guilt-filled to guilt-free?
VIEW SLIDESHOW: Krescendo: Is Elizabeth Falkner's Pizzeria Worth a Trip on the A Train?
Finocchio Flower Power [Photographs: J. Kenji Lopez-Alt]
364 Atlantic Ave, New York, NY 11217 (Map); 718-330-0888; krescendobrooklyn.com
Pizza type: Neapolitan
Oven type: Brick, wood-fired
The Skinny: Perfectly average pies don't live up to the hype.
Price:Appetizers and salads, $7-$15; Pizzas, $13-$17; Desserts, $6-9
Hype is a devious creature. Great press can work wonders in the restaurant business; it can also build expectations fundamentally disproportionate to reality. Such was the case with our recent excursion to Krescendo. Maybe it was chef Elizabeth Falkner's exceptional reputation, or the excitement generated by Pete Wells's recent two star review in The New York Times. Regardless, we walked in hoping for transcendent pizza. What we found was a good neighborhood Neapolitan joint. No more, no less.
The space is everything a neighborhood joint should be: friendly, warm, neither too big nor too loud. A bright red façade opens to a brick-walled dining room, flanked by a generous wooden bar with plenty of stools for sidling up to a glass of wine and a pie. The rear of the restaurant houses the pizza station, complete with a gold-tiled wood-fired oven on display for those who want to head back and watch the action.
But we're more interested in what comes out of that oven, aren't we? Let's get the heavy-hitter out of the way first.
The cheekily-namedFinocchio Flower Power ($16), the same pie that won Falkner first place in the Caputo World Pizza Championship in Naples in 2012, garnered lavish praise from Wells. Indeed, what we received had the sure-fire signs of greatness. The combination of anise-y braised fennel, chunks of juicy fennel sausage, and veiny fennel fronds makes for a subtle, layered topping. We couldn't find any vestiges of the titular fennel flowers; then again, we didn't pick apart the entire pie in our search.
Some may find that there's a bit too much provolone and cream blanketing the dough, but the dish is unquestionably delicious in that fat-on-bread sort of way.
For the record, that bread—the pizza crust, that is—was good. At least, most of the time (notable exceptions in a bit). Tender and well-seasoned, it had more of an even golden-brown color than a typical leopard-spotted Neapolitan crust. Nobody would mistake it as "artfully charred," as black-spot apologists like to call it, though it deftly passed the "is-it-still-tender-and-flavorful-even-when-cold?" test that should be a standard assay for pizzerias.
Polpette al Forno
The pizza is the best thing on the menu, which is a good thing, since we were thoroughly unimpressed with the quality of our opening courses. This was surprising to us, considering how much Wells, not to mention Vogue's Jeffrey Steingarten—both friends of Ed Levine and colleagues who possess trusted taste buds—had heralded that non-pizza portion of Krescendo's menu. We can only assume that it came down to luck of the draw.
The first of our plates was the Polpette al Forno ($9). The three meatballs arrived so dry and tough that we had trouble cutting through them with the side of a fork. Under-seasoned and over-ground, they left an unpleasant taste in our mouths—literally and figuratively. The sauce, at least, was fresh, delivering some much-needed brightness and moisture to the dish.
Frittele di Baccala Con Cannellini
In the Frittele di Baccala Con Cannellini ($12), the cod and potato fritter proved light and crisp, if subtle in salt-cod flavor. Sadly, the bed of cannellini on which it perched was beyond al dente, edging into raw territory. The beans were tough enough that we pushed the plate away unfinished, hoping that the pasta and pizza would prove more rewarding. [Insert your "Californians and their crunchy vegetables" joke of choice here].
Pappardelle alla Bolognese
We found the pasta in the Pappardelle alla Bolognese ($20) to be wonderfully tender and perfectly cooked. Which made it a crying shame that the ragú was so thin that it would have better borne the title zuppa. A few token pieces of wan ground meat floating in ruddy broth does not make for a satisfying course, no matter how good those noodles are.
The Oven
But enough of that; back to the pizza. As the Times proclaimed, the crusts are "exceptionally light," though at least one of our pies had some issues achieving the "good 'crumb structure'" mentioned. A quick look at the cornicione will demonstrate:
Cornicione
Do you see any holes or airiness in there?
Underbelly
Many folks can find typically tender and (ok, we'll admit it) somewhat "soupy" traditional Neapolitan crusts to be too soft. Falkner's pies ranged from tender with just a bit of sag, to outright crackery-crisp, allowing you to fold-and-hold them like a New York slice. Consistency issues aside, this may be a wisely informed decision, based on the relatively thick layers of cheese and toppings to which she's partial. "Let the crust fit the toppings" is a good motto for pie-slingers to subscribe to.
Bianca
While none of the other pies reached the heights of flavor found in the fennel pie, many showed promise, if a bit of poor engineering. It's the kind of food that is just good enough that you wish the chef would make that final push to take it to brilliant.
For instance, in our Bianca ($15), the two bits of kale that managed to peek out from their four-cheese shroud turned beautifully crisp and sweet as they caramelized in the heat of the oven. Meanwhile, the rest steamed under its white blanket, pulling away as a solid mass when we tugged at it with our teeth. Why not let all the kale peek out? (Oh, and could we have a sprinkle of salt while you're at it?)
The Cure
The Cure ($15) combined good salami with fresno chilis, mozzarella, and a dusting of pecorino. Simple, balanced, and tasty, but couldn't the edges of that salami have been browned just a tad? It's the kind of pie that makes you wish you were eating the soppresatta pie from Motorino.
Cannolo
Unsurprisingly, one of the most redemptive elements of Krescendo's menu is the desserts. Judging from the Cannolo ($6) alone, you wouldn't guess that Falkner is the woman behind San Francisco's Citizen Cake and Orson, but it's a fine dessert nonetheless. Crisp, greaseless, and stuffed with a not-too-sweet ricotta filling, it hits a perfect balance of dark chocolate, pistachio, and bitter-sweet candied orange zest. Our cannolo came with a few crunchy-sweet slices of candied fennel stems, as well—an altogether more satisfying use of the vegetable than on our pizza.
Tartufo
The hazelnut and chocolate Tartufo ($9) is another excellent dessert. We could have managed another helping or three of the excellent salted caramel sauce and crumbled sbrosolona, a shortbread-like Italian tart.
Cassata
Our version of the Cassata ($9) looked markedly different than the one pictured in the Times review. In fact, we realized that the dessert is composed of the exact same elements as the cannolo. That is, if you took away the unifying crunchy shell, added icy tangerine sorbet, and topped it with three campari-soaked cherries. Our sponge cake was more mushy and wet than moist and spongy; of the two desserts, the cannolo is a clear winner.
So the question remains. Is Krescendo worth a trip on the A-train?
Head to Krescendo for dessert. Or even go for their pizza—if these pies been coming out of this oven a decade ago, we would have been proclaiming their genius. But the fact is, with our current access to truly remarkable Neapolitan-derived pizza in New York, what we've eaten at Krescendo is, as the Cookie Monster used to say, good, but not delicious. It's the kind of place you'd be happy to have on your block; the kind of place you'd even travel to if your friends lived near by.
Judging by the fleeting glimpses of greatness that we experienced, it's possible we happened to hit Krescendo on two off-nights. That's what we hope, anyway—Falkner is too talented for us to think otherwise.
In this day and age, plain old good pizza just isn't good enough for anything beyond a comfortable neighborhood joint. If that's Falkner's goal, then she has succeeded, no changes necessary. But if her goal is great pizza, there are still a few details that need working out.
- Niki Achitoff-Gray, J. Kenji López-Alt, and Ed Levine
Deciding what to eat for dinner in college / your totally adult apartment is one of life's greatest challenges. Seriously. There are a lot of different kinds of pizza and ramen out there.
Or...hold up! Why torture yourself over the pros and cons of pizza versus ramen when you can eliminate the decision-making process altogether and have both. At the same time. In a single, edible vessel.Food Deconstructed is here to show you how to unite the collegiate dream team in your very own "home."
[Video: Food Deconstructed]
About the author:Niki Achitoff-Gray is the editor of Slice and a part-time student at the Institute of Culinary Education. She's pretty big into pizza. Also, she likes offal. A lot.
[Photographs: Nick Kindelsperger]
355 East Ohio Street, Chicago, Illinois 60611 (map); 312-822-8998; flourandstone.com
Pizza Style: "Brooklyn Style"
Pizza Oven: Gas Oven
The Skinny: Light hand-tossed that needs more time in the oven.
Price: Margherita, $15.25; Classic, $15.75; Mushroom, $17.75
Oh, the weight of expectations. For the past six months, I've eagerly anticipated the opening of Flour & Stone, mostly due to the restaurant's claim that it would serve "Chicago's Brooklyn style pizza." Now, I know what you're going to say. What the hell is Brooklyn-style pizza?
Two things immediately popped into my brain. First come all memories of the pizza I ate while living in the Brooklyn—the pilgrimages to DiFara's and Totonno's, the simple and stunning toppings at Franny's, and my weekly pie at Lucali's. But just as quickly, there flashed images of Domino's "Brooklyn Style Pizza" and that commercial where some streetwise lady tells a cabbie to fold his pizza "like a man." My scars have yet to heal. So, on one hand we have some of the greatest pizza anywhere, and on the other we have...well, Domino's.
Any doubts as to where on this spectrum Flour & Stone would fall were also heavily influenced by a manifesto of sorts on the restaurant's website: Crust, they declare, should be "perfectly crunchy on the outside, delightfully chewy on the inside—just like a good loaf of bread." This sounded exactly like the kind of pizza I love. I couldn't wait to check it out.
But I knew something was off the moment the Classic ($15.75) with pepperoni hit the table. Though the crust had some color, it was far more blonde than browned, and the whole pie had a soft, squishy look to it.
Flour & Stone claims that they "love bubbles in our crust," but a profile view of the pie proved otherwise. The ends had some rise to them, but they still looked way too dense and uniform, with none of the hole structure I was hoping for.
A peek underneath revealed a crust with almost no char. Instead, it was nearly white. Obviously, this pizza just needed some more time in the gas oven (which the restaurant claims hits 600°.). For a few minutes I sunk into something of a pizza depression, the kind of illness that afflicts me when my obscenely high expectations of a pizzeria are sent tumbling down. But I regrouped and pressed on. Perhaps Lucali's wasn't going to open in my city, but what did Flour & Stone have to offer?
As the Margherita ($15.25) soon revealed, Flour & Stone serves up satisfying thin-crust pizza in a neighborhood that has few other options. There's a little too much cheese, but at least its tangy and distinctive, playing well off the tart and acidic sauce. And while the ends are soft, the crust is fairly thin.
I wouldn't want to eat it often, but the aggressive and salty pepperoni on the Classic made for a satisfying couple of slices. Still, I wouldn't let this one sit around for too long, or it gets greasy. But hey—all the more reason to feast quickly.
Only the Mushroom ($17.75) failed to connect. I blame the watery and bland mushrooms, which even sharp red onion slices couldn't wake up.
Perhaps it was my fault. With the memories of my favorite Brooklyn pizzerias bouncing in my brain, I set Flour & Stone up to be something it clearly could never be. Luckily, without all my baggage, it fairs better. The residents of Streeterville obviously agree: It was packed to the breaking point on my visit, as customers crowded the area next to the register waiting for their pizzas. Plus, it will take time to figure out the oven before they can kick out a consistent product. I'll be back soon to check it out.
About the author:Nick Kindelsperger is the Editor of Serious Eats: Chicago.
Discount coupon offered on the pizzeria's website. [Photograph: Allaroundpizza.com]
If you did a double take, too, then we're probably on the same page. And yes, you heard me correctly. Virginia Beach's All Around Pizza and Deli is offering a generous 15% discount to anyone who brings in their concealed handgun permit or just, you know, whips out any old concealed weapon.
According to restaurant owner Jay Laze, roughly 80% of his customers have taken advantage of this gun-toting supersaver opportunity. That's including one delightful gentleman who apparently brought in his AK-47. No biggie!
The NRA already offers discounts to its members, who can save big bucks at hotels like Wyndham and Best Western. It appears that the institution's incentivizing tactics have trickled down to small business owners like Laze.
The ambitious Second Amendment activist is certainly pleased with the promotion's success; Laze has already extended the offer for an additional month and says he's considering making it available indefinitely. With a menu touting "HOMEMADE DOUGH - ZESTY SAUCE - 7-CHEESE BLEND - FRESH - MADE TO ORDER" pies, ranging from $6.99-$14.99 ($2 for extra toppings), it's clearly a pretty unbeatable deal.
Slice'rs! Are you strapped for cash or up in arms?? *
*I'm really sorry. I just couldn't resist.
About the author:Niki Achitoff-Gray is the editor of Slice and a part-time student at the Institute of Culinary Education. She's pretty big into pizza. Also, she likes offal. A lot.
[Photographs: Lauren Sloss]
Cow Lane, Queenstown 9300, New Zealand (map); 03 442 8588 thecowrestaurant.co.nz
Pizza Style: Medium-crusted, toppings-heavy pies
Pizza Oven: Electric, pies bake at 300º C (572º F)
The Skinny: With a focus on ample toppings, The Cow's sturdy-crusted pizza is a hearty, stick-to-your-ribs affair, perfect after a long day of hiking, skiing, and the likes. Don't skip out on the pasta or garlic bread, either!
Price: Bolognese Pizza, $19.90 NZD for a small; Chicken Liver Spaghetti, $21.90 NZD for a full order; Garlic Bread, $8.50 NZD
With only four days to spend in Queenstown during a recent trip to New Zealand, I had every intention of soaking up as much culinary diversity as possible. But one meal at The Cow soon turned into two, and two into three.
The Cow is a cozy pizza and spaghetti house, tucked down an alleyway of the same name. With heavy, dark wood paneling and a blazing fireplace, it's the kind of place that feels après-ski, or even après-hike, whether or not you're après-anything at all. It's an ideal den—even the middle of New Zealand's summer sees some crisp, chilly nights. The long tables are communal; locals and fellow travelers alike welcome conversation. Wine and beer flow freely, and the menu is almost entirely composed of pizza and pasta. What's not to like?
We ordered our first pizza after eying other parties chowing down on topping-heavy, fresh-from-the-oven pies. Seeing as heartiness is the name of the game at The Cow, we opted for the Bolognese ($19.90 NZD for an 11-inch small, $28.90 NZD for a 14-inch large). None of us had any experience with meat sauce-topped pizzas, but we'd fallen hard and fast for The Cow's take on pasta bolognese (we were, of course, practically regulars at this point.)
The blend of rich meat sauce, melted mozzarella, and tangy-sweet tomato sauce proved to be a great one. The sauce, made of whole, crushed Italian tomatoes and "secret ingredients," is cooked for 8 hours. There's enough meat to add heft to the pie, subtly accentuated by the slow-cooked depth of the bolognese.
The crust, meant to be thin-to-medium in thickness and "crunchy, not floppy," is clearly designed to stand up to toppings. The menu proudly declares that the pizzas are "large and heavily garnished," noting that pizza bags are available for taking home leftovers. The twice-proofed dough bakes to a good, bready height; the browned crunch of the underbelly doesn't lend a huge amount of distinctive flavor, but it's well-salted, with a nice hole structure. Most importantly, the crust is light enough to balance the richness of that delicious sauce.
Spaghetti options at The Cow are equally hearty and, fortunately for the waistline, available in half portions. The pasta isn't fresh, but it's reliably al dente—a perfectly serviceable vessel for the restaurant's sauces. From bolognese, to a cream-based mushroom and cheese sauce, to spicy chicken and chilis, it really does feel necessary to get a pasta in addition to your pizza.
On our last visit, we went big, getting the chicken liver spaghetti ($21.90 NZD for a whole portion, half pictured), described as being "for connoisseurs—not gluttons." It definitely isn't for those who shy away from the meaty, earthy funk of liver...they really pile it on. I love animal parts in excess, so this was a decadent, delightful bowl of goodness for me.
While pizza and pasta and garlic bread ($8.50 NZD) in one meal may seem like overkill, ignore your responsible inner voice and go for it. The garlic bread is unmissable. A small, still-warm loaf of hearty housemade bread is doused with warm, melted butter, studded with ample amounts of diced garlic, and sprinkled with parsley. With a deep, whole grain flavor, the porous bread soaks up the butter and just begs for a dab of the additional butter conveniently served alongside.
Really, there's nothing to do but go big at The Cow. Stop worrying—you'll go for a hike tomorrow, or something. And, if you're like us, will likely hike all the way back to The Cow for dinner again.
About the author:Lauren Sloss is a bicoastal food-lover who is based in San Francisco. Some of her favorite things include The Black Keys, goat gouda, and guacamole. You can follow her on Twitter @laurensloss.
As always, Nedroid's comics have successfully tapped directly into my pizza brain. The internet's pretty great, but I simply won't be satisfied until I can download my pie in 5 minutes or less!
Sound too good (or bad) to be true? You're probably right, at least when it comes to enjoying a quality pie. But grabbing a pizza off the internet isn't quite as sci-fi as you might think.
The burgeoning field of 3D printing is working on domestic models that will deliver a growing variety of products to your home, no shipping required. Biotech companies are already adapting the technology to develop organ and tissue printing, and start-up Modern Meadow is working to create eco-friendly printable meats and leathers.
Who knows? Internet pizza may not be such a distant future, after all...
Video courtesy of Huffington Post Live
About the author: Niki Achitoff-Gray is the editor of Slice and a part-time student at the Institute of Culinary Education. She's pretty big into pizza.
VIEW SLIDESHOW: Introducing: The Serious Eats Pizza-Making Guide
When Slice founder Adam Kuban built our guide to regional pizza styles back in 2008, we had no idea just how popular it would become. To this day, it remains the most visited feature on our site.
Now we're ready to welcome you to our brand new companion index. Over the years, our contributors and readers (and our Kenji!) have worked to build a treasure trove of pizza recipes and techniques, ranging from regional classics to home kitchen adaptations and twists. Have we covered it all? Absolutely not—that would take all the fun out it! One of pizza's greatest qualities, at least in our humble opinion, is how difficult it is to pin down or define. Ideally, this list will continue to grow and evolve indefinitely. In the meantime, we've done our best to organize our existing pizza resources to make things a little easier for all the home cooks and aspiring pizzaoli out there. Have at it, Slice'rs!
Click through the slideshow to ogle the full array, and be sure to let us know what recipes and tips you'd like to see next!
Neapolitan-Style Pizza »
New York-Style Pizza »
Sicilian-Style Pizza »
Grilled Pizza »
Bar-Style Pizza »
Deep Dish »
New England Greek-Style Pizza »
Philadelphia Tomato Pie »
Montanara »
Pizza Bianca »
Sfincione »
No-Knead Dough »
Foolproof Pan Pizza »
Baking Steel Pizza »
Skillet Pizza »
Stuffed Crust Pizza »
Gluten-Free Pizza »
Vegan Pizza »
Sourdough Pizza »
Pizza Monkey Bread »
Breakfast Pizza »
Deep-Fried Garlic Knots »
Thanksgiving Pizza Stuffing »
Thanksgiving Pizza Stuffing, Part II »
Spinach, Provolone, and Pepperoni Calzone »
Pizza Buns »
Grilled Pizza Panini Sandwich »
Dessert Pizza »
Pizza Rolls »
On Ovens »
On Sauce »
On Yeast »
On Flours, Foams, and Dough »
On Cheese »
On Fermentation »
On Toppings »
On Sausage »
A joyous My Pie Monday to one and all! We have a jaw-dropping count of twenty-five contributors this week, and I'm not kidding when I say that each and every one of them has been kicking some major pizza butt.
Our regulars are out in full force, along with a slew of newcomers.Dailywaffle unveils a garlicky spinach pizza; Cheesus gets blue 'n' green with some gorgonzola and broccoli; our very own Erin Zimmer shares her third pan pie of the week; and eatitatlanta goes all-out Polly-O. Meanwhile, Norma keeps her Detroit momentum going strong with a Marco Pollo pie, and Adam Kuban chimes in with his own Detroit-style beaut. We've got a no-knead from Tailbiter and Kakugori goes wild with a "Frito Chili Pie-zza."
I could keep going, but honestly, folks, with so many phenomenal contributions this week, let's not waste any more time. Click through the slideshow catch the full spread in all its pie-tastic glory!
If you're working some pizza magic this week, please do send us a shot for our next My Pie Monday! Just take one horizontal snapshot of your homemade pizza, briefly describe your cooking method, and follow these instructions to get it to Slice HQ by 8pm EST on Thursday night. Be sure to let us know your Slice/Serious Eats username!
Want to join the MPM crew? See our Pizza Making Guide »
Want to peruse more pizza beauty shots? Come along »
About the author:Niki Achitoff-Gray is the editor of Slice and a part-time student at the Institute of Culinary Education. She's pretty big into pizza. Also, she likes offal. A lot.
Daily Slice gives a quick snapshot of a different slice or pie that the folks at the Serious Eats empire have enjoyed lately.
A year and a half ago, I sat at the counter of Pizzeria il Fico, as eager owner/partner John Tierney waxed on about turning this little slice of Robertson Blvd. into a neighborhood hangout. I nodded along politely, even though I thought the environment seemed too upscale for his scheme.
I was wrong.
Pizzeria il Fico has steadfastly endured. Never clamoring for top billing in the Los Angeles pizza scene, although some critics may disagree, Nicola Mastronardi and Giuseppe Gentile deliver a steady stream of high-quality pies to complement their excellent pastas. The restraint of their southern Italian-style pizza feels more familiar and casual in Los Angeles, where many people still consider Neapolitan pizza a "new" thing.
The current Special Pizza ($20) is topped with mozzarella, taleggio, porcini mushrooms, dollops of ricotta cheese and puddles of white truffle oil. The price sounds steep, but this pizza makes up for it in size. The heavy plate holds a very full 12" pie; more than one person should eat in a sitting (not that I didn't manage to eat the whole thing myself).
On earlier visits, the pizzas shone beautiful from above, but were pale and over-floured underneath. While the menu has barely changed over the last year and a half, the kitchen has clearly honed their wood-fire oven skills. The crust, crisp from top to tip, is covered in brown spots; tiny bubbles are littered along the edge. The dough tastes young, with the clean flavors of water and flour easily detected beneath the dry base of mozzarella and taleggio. Moist morsels of ricotta and porcini mushrooms float on top, buttressed by the scent of white truffle oil. The combination managed to be at once subtle and hardy, elevated by a drizzle of chili-spiked olive oil.
Pizzeria il Fico does not rank among LA's greatest pizzerias. They serve up an everyday pie—perhaps the best* in walking distance from itself—served in a chic, neighborhood joint. It's exactly what they set out to be.
*Although Madeo is a contender
310 S Robertson Blvd Los Angeles, CA 90048 (map)
310-271-3426; pizzeriailfico.com
About the author: After nearly a decade in Brooklyn, Kelly Bone landed back in Los Angeles where she writes The Vegetarian Foodie. She spends the rest of her time designing office cubicles... you might be sitting in one right now! Follow her on Twitter at @TheVegFoodie
[Photographs: J. Kenji Lopez-Alt]
I've been keeping vegan for the entire month of February (as part of my vegan experience), and I admit it: this dish is not vegan. Not by a long shot. Fortunately, the recipe is one I've had in the old data banks for some time now, ever since we ran it as part of our 10 Easy Stir-In Stove-Top Macaroni and Cheese Variations post last October. The thing was so darn delicious, that we felt it deserved a spotlight (not to mention a full step-by-step recipe) all its own, so here we are.
The base is classic stovetop mac & cheese, a roux-less version I've been tweaking for a number of years. It's based largely on my cheese sauce recipe, which uses evaporated milk and cornstarch to bind the cheese in place of a roux. This results in an ultra-creamy, glossy, and intensely flavored sauce. For my mac and cheese, I add a couple of eggs and some butter to the mix. The butter for richness, the eggs to help thicken the sauce slightly so that it binds better to the cooked pasta.
For cheeses, you can go classic with a mix of American and Cheddar, but I like to add a bit of pizza flair to the mix with some shredded full fat mozzarella and parmesan (you can use real Parmigiano-Reggiano, Grana Padano, or a domestic parm).
The flavorings are classic fully-loaded pizza flavors. Italian sausage sauteed until crisp, pepperoni, soppressata, black olives, a few pepperoncini for some added heat and bright acidic bite, tomatoes, and basil. Of course, the basic steps are simple enough that you could add whatever the heck you normally add to your pizza. Once the sausage fat is rendered out, that would be a good time to add onions, peppers, or mushrooms to the pan to sauté.
If you could have any pizza topping in a mac and cheese dish, what would it be?
Fully Loaded Pizza Macaroni and Cheese »
About the author: J. Kenji Lopez-Alt is the Chief Creative Officer of Serious Eats where he likes to explore the science of home cooking in his weekly column The Food Lab. You can follow him at @thefoodlab on Twitter, or at The Food Lab on Facebook.
The March issue of Travel and Leisure is out, featuring a ranking of America's 20 best cities for pizza. For those who don't feel like clicking through the whole slideshow, we've laid out the full list below. Something tells me that SE pizza enthusiasts will have a thing or two to say about this particular order...
So, is your city missing? How would you shuffle this round-up?
About the author:Niki Achitoff-Gray is the editor of Slice and a part-time student at the Institute of Culinary Education. She's pretty big into pizza.
Sriracha is quite the controversial condiment, especially when it comes to slathering it on a food as controversial as pizza. Some people simply adore a splash of pizza with that bottle o' Sriracha; others will cry blasphemy at the mere question of such a pairing, even with the lowliest of pies.
Can you handle the heat? And, more importantly, do you want to?