The Way of the Pizza Guy

We are hearing more and more about different organizations that have established themselves as the governing body of “authentic” pizza making. The idea is that they can somehow standardize and define a particular pizza making style and then offer certification (at a price) to people who have met the standards. Take a wild guess at what would have happened if somebody visited Totonno’s in the 1930’s and suggested that they needed a certificate to make pizzas.

Now I know that these schools of pizza making serve a purpose, especially for beginners who want to get started and learn the basic principles of our craft. The issue that I have with this idea is that it kind of sucks the individuality out of the whole thing. The pizzerias that I am really excited about right now (like Slice in New York) aren’t trying to recreate anything, they are listening to their own original voice. The real innovators in the pizza world are coming from diverse backgrounds and bringing a unique perspective to our favorite food. The trick is to approach pizza making with a fresh and uncluttered outlook every day. In Zen philosophy this is called “the beginners mind” The future of the pizza business is not recreation or preservation it is innovation. The “next big thing” is going to come from a beginner with no baggage or an experienced pizza lover that refuses to be confined by the past.

“For the beginner, all things are possible”

Just about every day someone comes up to me in our restaurant and mentions how much they hate the big chain pizzerias. I know they are trying to compliment me because they see us covered in flour, agonizing over every pie. Well here’s the truth: The big guys have helped us way more than they hurt us. When I was a kid pizzerias only existed in Italian neighborhoods. Pizza was still some kind of exotic food. The big chains brought pizza to the general public and made it the most popular food in America. Do I eat in corporate restaurants? No. Do I respect them? You bet.

Think of the chains as entry level experiences, sort of like drinking white zinfandel. At some point that white zin drinker is going to get curious and in a few years they are sitting in Piedmonte drinking a Barolo. Todays personal pan pizza eater is eventually going to wait 3 hours in front of Pizzeria Bianco to see what all the fuss is about (and be glad they did) My family opened an espresso bar on Long Island in 1961! Nobody was ready for it. Today there is a thriving coffee cafe 50 feet from that original location. The difference? Starbucks. Pizza belongs to everybody. That’s what makes it the greatest and most important food in the history of mankind. I’m serious, and in the next couple of days I’m going to prove it right here

A few weeks ago I had an opportunity to judge an international pizza contest held at a really unique little place in New York called Slice- the perfect food (more on them at a later date). While evaluating the pizzas I was listening to comments from the audience. It occured to me that it was almost impossible for people to be objective about pizza. Nobody (including me) was able to completely seperate themselves from their own preconcieved notions of what a pizza is supposed to be. In the middle of judging, an image flashed in my mind from a famous scene in a Bruce Lee movie. Lee states that “unless we empty our cups of expectations we are unable to experience someon elses tea” As he puts it “the usefullness of the cup is in it’s emptiness” Well, how many of us try to evaluate pizza without first emptying our plates of opinion, perception of “tradition” and all kinds of excess baggage including an emotional attachement to the pizzeria we ate at in high school? Are we really judging just whats on the plate? Or do we also bring to the table the vision of a mythological pizza that really exists only in our hearts? I create and sell thousands of pizza every week. It is my lifes work, but I have yet to come close to that perfect pie that I’ve conjured up in my head.