THE FIRST U.S. PIZZERIA
NEW YORK -- Three other Sacramentans and
I recently flew here to
attend a wedding. The celebration was
delightful. But the night
before proved almost as memorable.
For that evening we tasted history - in the form of a pizza.
Of course, great pizza and New York are
almost synonymous.
Not that New York invented pizza; that
honor belongs to the southern
Italian city of Naples. But New York did
introduce the now-ubiquitous
dish to the United States. And the person
making the introduction was
a Neapolitan: Gennaro Lombardi, a baker
who emigrated from Naples in
1895.
Lombardi started making pizza in a bakery
and selling it by the slice
in the most famous Little Italy, the one
on Manhattan's Lower East
Side along historic Mulberry Street. He
used the same dough recipe
that his father and grandfather had used
in Naples.
Because his pizza slices sold better than
his breads and pastries,
Lombardi abandoned the bakery and, in
1905, opened his - and the
country's - first pizzeria.
Vestiges of the great migration that brought
more than 5 million
Italians to the United States between
1880 and 1920 remain visible on
Little Italy's narrow streets today. There
are grocery stores, gift
shops, espresso bars, restaurants and
pizzerias, including Lombardi's.
Now owned by a new Gennaro Lombardi (grandson
of the founder) and his
partner, John Brescio, America's first
pizzeria still does a brisk
business.
Its location - 32 Spring St. (between Mott
and Mulberry streets) - is
Lombardi's third; all three are just a
few feet from one another.
You'd never know it wasn't the original,
though, because Little Italy
is one of the older neighborhoods in New
York, and the structure that
houses Lombardi's dates to around 1900.
It looks every bit of its age.
Consisting of two long, narrow storefronts
connected by a breezeway
with an upstairs "annex" (al fresco in
good weather; canvas-covered
in bad), the eatery seats only 90 people.
Tables have checkered
cloths. Some walls are bare brick; others
are covered with glowing
newspaper and magazine reviews. The ceiling
is stamped tin. Floors
are "chicken-wire" tiles. Waiters, including
the extremely friendly
Yanni Provias who served us, wear white
shirts and aprons in the
turn-of-the-20th-century style.
In short, once you enter, you feel like
you've taken a time-machine
trip.
Lombardi's most distinctive feature, however,
is its brick oven.
(Movie star Jack Nicholson, a regular
patron when in New York, likes
to sit in a relatively private nook near
it.) As any pizza fan knows,
brick ovens make the best pizza. But Lombardi's
oven is more than
brick. It's also a "coal oven" (as the
sign on the entry awning
boasts).
Coal ovens have been outlawed in New York
for environmental reasons,
but Lombardi's was grandfathered in. The
advantage of a coal oven is
that it heats to 900-plus degrees - some
200 to 300 degrees higher
than wood or gas ovens.
"That allows the pizza to bake much quicker,"
explained manager
Rosemarie Gentile. "The bottom gets a
little blistered and the cheese
melts just right. It makes pizza taste
much better."
Co-owner Brescio agreed, but noted that
other factors contribute to
Lombardi's reputation, namely extremely
fresh, top-quality
ingredients - "I throw them out if they're
not just right," he said
proudly - and "the family's secret recipe
for the dough."
We tried:
* The standard pizza (mozzarella, San Marzano
tomatoes, fresh basil,
pecorino Romano and olive oil).
* White pizza (mozzarella, ricotta, pecorino
Romano, garlic, black
pepper - and no sauce).
* Calzone (a folded-over large pizza stuffed
with mozzarella and
ricotta, herbs and any other topping you
wish; marinara sauce, which
comes on the side, can be poured on top
if you wish).
* And the house specialty, "fresh clam
pie" (tons of shucked,
top-neck clams, oregano, garlic, parsley,
pecorino Romano, olive oil
and black pepper).
The unusual clam pizza was adapted from
a Lombardi family Christmas
Eve tradition, when all-seafood meals
were the rule for that day in
Catholic Italy.
To say all of Lombardi's pizzas are fantastic
is true - but that is
also an understatement.
What makes them so good? Start with the
thin crusts - the only kind
Lombardi's makes. Slightly charred and
crispy on the underside, they
have a wonderful springiness when you
bite into them.
The toppings - the mozzarella and ricotta,
especially - were
incredibly fresh, with a sweetness one
only encounters in the finest
dairy products. If the dough is the keystone
of a Lombardi pizza, the
mozzarella and ricotta are its zenith.
Lombardi's is a true Italian pizzeria.
It sells only pizza, except
for a few appetizers and beverages.
And this history-cum-quality comes reasonably
priced: $13.50 for an
eight-slice pizza; $11.50 for a six-slice
one. The calzone, which is
enough for a small army, goes for $27.
But bring cash: Lombardi's
takes no plastic.
It did not surprise us to learn that in
Manhattan, where there are
many excellent pizzerias, Lombardi's was
rated No. 1 in 1996 by the
consumer-written Zagat guide. In 1999,
Zagat rated Lombardi's "Best
on the Planet."
Such praise gets no argument from us. We
left with only one regret:
that Lombardi's doesn't deliver to California.
LOMBARDI'S, 32 Spring St., New York; (212)
941-7994. Open daily for
lunch and dinner; no reservations, no
credit cards, no checks.