I’ve gradually moved away from writing reviews on Pizza Rules! because I find that many pizzerias have been sufficiently covered already. Over the past few months, the site has grown to focus more on pizza-related cultural topics, specifically those that exist in the realm of the artistic and/or weird. However, I will continue to write up various pizza reviews when I think there is something to be said that hasn’t been already.

Such is the case with Pulino’s Bar & Pizzeria, which just opened in Manhattan, on the corner of Bowery and Houston. I kicked off my month-long pizza-only diet at Pulino’s last week and thought I would share my experience for those who are still seeking opinions.

I was definitely excited when I first heard about Pulino’s because it’s a project of Keith McNally. I don’t personally know McNally or really anything about him, but one of his other restaurants, Schiller’s Liquor Bar, is one of my favorite brunch spots in the city (their french toast is so good!). The Schiller’s connection is definitely felt in the interior of Pulino’s; in fact, many of the same exact architectural elements have been brought over (bottles on the wall, tiled and mirrored pillars, same doors, same lights, etc).

Given my enthusiasm for lettering and typography, I’m somewhat biased, but one thing I must admit I was disappointed about with the design of Pulino’s is their “famous exterior” signage. They almost got it right with a classic format of fabricated three-dimensional neon lettering, but the choice of Helvetica as the typeface in which to render the name seems so default and unispired. I might not usually mention such a point, but it’s so disappointing when considering the lovely lettering styles at Schiller’s, which are much more closely connected to the traditional styles of architectural lettering in New York that give the city its distinct flavor. It’s a subtle distinction, but one that goes a long way for exuding a sense of authenticity (which seems to be a goal for Pulino’s).

Photo by Mattron on Flickr

Photo by JesC on Flickr

When I got to Pulino’s at around 1:00 last Thursday, it was rather busy but we were seated right away. The overall atmosphere inside was a bit hectic. It almost seemed that there were too many servers, and the relatively tight seating arrangement didn’t help (my menu was knocked off the table multiple times by passing waitstaff). We were also asked to order multiple times by different servers, furthering the impression of disorder. Of course this isn’t surprising for a new establishment that is still settling in to its groove.

But enough about the extraneous details; let’s move on to what really matters - the pizza. Most descriptions I’ve read of the pizza so far are pretty accurate… it’s somewhere between New Haven pizza and Midwest bar pizza: super-thin crispy crust with a decidedly dark shade of reddish orange. We got a plain margherita pie and a marinara pie which we had sprinkled with some grated parmesan (I forget if “margherita” and “marinara” are the names they use on their menu, but they generally match those styles). The crust was almost brittle at first, but as the oil and sauce settled in it became a bit more chewy in the center.

I really enjoyed most of the pizza; the sauce/cheese/crust ratio worked well and even the sparse simplicity of the cheeseless marinara pie was delicious with the ingredients they used.

I do have some gripes though. First of all, our marinara pie had a huge scorch mark that went straight through (see photo below). I’m all for the typical charring of any pizza that is cooked in a really hot oven like this one, and actually prefer a little spotting; but this was a huge solid chunk of pure carbon that, instead of accenting the flavor, made that slice basically like biting in to a solid piece of carbon.

(Note: orange-ish pool in above photo isn’t pizza grease, but chili oil which I poured on to the pan for dipping.)

My second gripe is related to the end-crust (or “cornicione”). Eating the wet part of the pie was so good, but when you got down to the “bones”, as my friend Lister calls them, the crispness that was a benefit in the middle of the pie made it become a chore to eat at the edges. Instead of complementing a crispy outer shell with softer dough inside, these end-crusts were hard all the way through, which made eating them feel like chewing on twigs. I think one of the servers even noticed me struggling with the task because they suggested the chili oil that was on the table. While the chili oil was indeed good, it was almost irrelevant for “bone”-dipping because the crust was too hard to soak any of it up.

My third and final gripe is one which I’m almost certain will be a major topic of discussion in the future in relation to Pulino’s: the cutting of the pizza into square slices instead of normal triangular ones. I get the conceptual link to this cutting style that is used for so many pizzas in the Midwest, especially in bars. It even makes sense for “party” pizzas that are too big or hefty to otherwise divide in to triangular slices. But these pizzas are neither big nor hefty, so square slices are just not practical. With this cut style, the middle “slice” is left without any natural grip area, forcing you to either resort to fork usage or sloppy grease-hands. And, as my friend Yvonne points out, the square-peg-in-a-round-hole approach just isn’t fair: if you’re splitting the pie between any number of people, there are bound to be huge inconsistencies in what each person gets from each slice. In the case of this pie, where the wet portions are notably delicious and chewy but the end-crusts are hard and comparatively low in flavor, such uneven distribution could mean the difference between perceiving the pizza as amazingly good or unpleasantly bad.

Don’t get me wrong: overall I am in favor of Pulino’s, if for no other reason than that they tried - even invented - a new style of pizza. It’s definitely worth checking out for yourself to see if it matches your style, because I can’t reasonably say “if you like this other pizzeria, you will like Pulino’s”; it’s its own thing, and I value that. Plus, any pizzeria whose chef gets arrested for carrying a knife has to be bad-ass, right?

I will be going back for a return visit as soon as tomorrow, and definitely after a few months when any early quirks will hopefully be worked out of the system. After all, this is a new venture, and it wouldn’t be fair to judge it otherwise.

Pulino’s Bar & Pizzeria
pulinosny.com
282 Bowery (at Houston); New York, NY 10012 [map]
212-226-1966

Three days in to eating literally nothing but pizza, I can already tell that this year’s Pizza Month challenge is going to be much harder than I originally thought.

First I’ll clarify the specifics of the rules I’ve set out, because many people ask about them. The first part is pretty simple: anything I eat during the month of April will be pizza. This means no snacks, appetizers, desserts, candy… nothing. When I went to Pulino’s for pizza on the first day of the month, and my friend Dan got olives before our pies came, I did not eat any because they were not on a pizza.

Some people I’ve talked to have tried to find loopholes in that they would take advantage of, like eating soup, but I’m going to try to keep it as legit as possible: Anything I chew and swallow until midnight of April 30 will be pizza.

On top of that, as with previous Pizza Months, I’m also attempting to eat at a different pizza place (i.e. one that I haven’t been to yet this month) every day.

Despite what you may think, the eating of pizza isn’t the hard part. There are many factors that I hadn’t really considered when deciding to eat only pizza for a month. For instance, pizza is often a social meal; but if I’m hungry and I can’t find anyone to get pizza with - as is often the case in the middle of the day - I have to either wait for someone or go eat alone. It’s fine if you’re just getting a slice, but I’m guessing I’ll probably also end up being that creepy guys alone at a restaurant many times throughout the month. This isn’t made any easier by the fact that I tend to stay up late at night, when many pizzerias are closed and potential dining partners are asleep.

Another thing I hadn’t really realized before is how much of my normal diet consists of food that isn’t the main course of a normal meal. So many foods that I love to munch on between meals are conspicuous in their absence. It’s similarly difficult to walk past all the awesome bagel shops and bakeries in New York without stopping in to grab a small bite. Furthermore, considering my normal diet, life without dessert or candy is going to be brutal. Finally, other than a few places where breakfast pizza is offered, normal breakfast will be greatly missed.

So far, I’ve been drinking a lot of liquids to tide me over between pizzas. I’ll probably put down many cups of orange juice and smoothies before the month is through, and I’m relying on those kinds of things to keep me from getting scurvy.

Because of all this - and contrary to what many people’s assumptions about a pizza-only diet are - I’m predicting that I might actually lose weight over the next 30 days. This certainly isn’t my goal, but I’ll be curious to see what the correlation is.

Coinciding with the beginning of Pizza Month 2010, I’ve launched the Pizza Chef Caricature group photo pool on Flickr, dedicated to stereotypical portrayals of pizza-makers (or “pizzaioli”) typically seen on local pizzeria menus, signage, and take-out boxes.

Quality examples typically feature a majority of the following elements:

• Mustache
• Classic chef’s toque hat
• Plumpness
• Friendly hand gesture, such as the “OK” pinch or thumbs-up
• Neckerchief or bow-tie
• Apron
• Pizza in hand, or mid-air in spin toss

New submissions are welcome!

Back in 2007, I began a personal tradition I call Pizza Month. The specifics of the challenge have evolved over the years, but the general premise is that I eat pizza every day for the entirety of April.

In 2008 and 2009, to make Pizza Month more challenging, a new stipulation was introduced in which I had to get pizza from a new place every day (no repeats). It made the whole endeavor much more exciting than just grabbing a slice from my local pizza spot every day.

For Pizza Month this year, I’ve decided to step things up another notch and eat nothing but pizza for the entire month of April.

While many people think that eating pizza every day would be challenging, the hardest part to me for this new level of pizza dedication will be the elimination of candy and desserts. Luckily, Coca-Cola is basically candy in liquid form and happens to also be the best beverage to complement pizza with.

I’ll try to post updates and notes here throughout the month. Also keep an eye on my Flickr photostream for photographic documentation.

For more info on my previous Pizza Months, see the related wrap-up entries from Pizza Month 2008 and Pizza Month 2009, as well as all my Pizza Month photos on Flickr.

As a counterpoint to Jessica’s lovely and fancy letter V slice initial letter, I present to you this pizza-face monster letter A by Elli Egilsson (AC BANANAS on Flickr):

And mocked up here on a t-shirt:

See also: Shirts & Destroy’s gross-out pizza shirt/box package

One of my favorite new blogs lately is Every Person In New York, where artist Jason Polan has set out to draw every person in New York. Naturally I was excited to see that his most recent batch of drawings included a sketch of “The Man”, Dom DeMarco of Di Fara Pizzeria fame.

There’s enough hype and opinion about Dom and Di Fara floating around to fill a book, but if you don’t know about him, suffice to say he’s among the most legendary living pizzaiolos in America today.

Here’s a photo of Dom from a trip I took to Di Fara in April that matches Polan’s sketch perfectly (minus the scally cap):

Regardless of what you think about the pizza at Di Fara, it’s hard not to love the perseverance of the man behind the counter.

The angry Hitler YouTube meme was bound to involve pizza sooner or later.

ery rarely, my passions for pizza and lettering cross paths, but the decorative pizza letter V used for this post is an awesome case in which I can dork out on both things at once.

My friend Jessica Hische runs a site called The Daily Drop Cap, where she designs an ornamental letter every work day to be used for decorative initials (I wrote more about the topic previously, elsewhere). Last night she was one of the attendants at a big typography nerd get-together I organized at Lombardi's Pizza in Manhattan (if you don't know about it already, Google it). While scarfing on pizza, we joked about how she should make a pizza-themed initial, but I didn't think she'd actually do it.

Speaking of Lombardi's-inspired lettering art done by friends (I couldn't think of a more obscure topic) I ran in to the artist and legendary NYC skateboarder Harry Jumanji during a trip to Lombardi's last year. He was so psyched on the pizza that he broke out his markers and did a mini piece on the back of a postcard for the manager (or at least I think he was the manager):

I got one too (though it was skate-themed, rather than pizza):

For what it's worth, the first time I ever went to Lombardi's I was similarly compelled to make this drawing in my sketchbook (the disgruntled guy on the right is totally unrelated):

I guess all the pizza art makes sense with the huge Mona Lisa on the outside wall -- they say "the debate over her smile is over".

Since I'm on the subject, Lombardi's also is relevant to another obscure design-related fascination of mine, which is the pointing-finger symbol known as the "manicule". For whatever reason, I collect photos of the symbol in use and, coincidentally, they're used heavily for signage at Lombardi's -- including a sizable example on the exterior of the building (just above the Mona Lisa):

In closing, a gratuitous photo of the source material:

Today on Vice magazine’s blog, Viceland, they quoted an awesome excerpt from the new Ozzy biography, I Am Ozzy:

I thought America was fabulous. Take pizza for example. For years I’d been thinking, I wish someone would invent a new kind of food. In England it was always egg and chips, sausage and chips, pie and chips… anything and chips. After a while it just got boring, y’know? But you couldn’t exactly order a shaved Parmesan and rocket salad in Birmingham in the early 70s. If it didn’t come out of a deep-fat fryer, no one knew what the fuck it was. But then, in New York, I discovered pizza. It blew my mind wide fucking open. I would buy ten or twenty slices a day. And then, when I realized you could buy a great big pizza all for yourself, I started ordering them wherever we went. I couldn’t wait to get back home and tell all my mates: ‘There’s this incredible new thing. It’s American and it’s called pizza. It’s like bread, but it’s better than any bread you’ve tasted in your life.’ I even tried to recreate a New York pizza for Thelma once. I made some dough, then I got all these cans of beans and pilchards and olives and shit and put them on top-it must have been about 15 quid’s worth of gear-but after ten minutes it just came dribbling out of the oven. It was like someone had been sick in there. Thelma just looked at it and went, ‘I don’t think I like pizza, John.’ She never called me Ozzy, my first wife.

Kinda makes you wonder if Sweet Leaf is actually about basil.

Thanks to Jeff for the link.

Somehow, ironic t-shirt companies get me every time with their pizza-themed designs. Much like the previously-noted Pizza is the Best shirt, the Direct Line t-shirt design from Glennz Tees (pictured above) exploits my love of pizza enough to distract me from all the other pop-culture dependent stuff on their site.

“A composite image made from 121 pizzas”, by Jim Bumgardner on Flickr.

Detailed instructions here.

PeopleInPizzaSliceCostumesBecomingPizzas.com

Earlier this year the dudes at Liberated Images / Shirts & Destroy released a limited edition 5-color gross-out pizza shirt that comes in a specially printed pizza box. From their description:

A pizza to end all pizzas. Served piping hot with everything you could want on it. Nails, screws, an eyeball, pocket change, a severed finger, cigarette butts, pepperoni, a razor blade, a dead fish, mushrooms and a bunch of other gnarly shit.

Gnarly shit, indeed.

The graphic was done by Billy from Tall Boy Illustration. Get yours here.

In the video below, John Joseph — singer for the legendary 1980s NYC hardcore punk band, the Cro-Mags — talks about his favorite veg spots in NYC, including Viva Herbal Pizzeria. It’s all framed around Joseph’s new book Meat Is For Pussies.

The blog software I use to run Pizza Rules! has been super slow and sometimes even completely broken lately, which is why I haven’t posted much. I have a whole folder of stuff to share once I get some time to fix everything, but in the mean time, here’s a quick pizza-related lolcat for you.

I completed my third annual Pizza Month yesterday at Stone Hearth Pizza in Cambridge, MA. As with the past two years, I ate pizza every day for the entire month of April. Similar to last year, I managed to do so without getting pizza from the same pizzeria twice.

Since I’m currently in vagabond travel mode, I got a lot more variety this year, geographically, than in past years. New York got some heavy representation early on, followed by a string of various Massachusetts pizza.

Billy (who participated in Pizza Month with me the previous two years) folded only 3 or 4 days into the month after forgetting to eat a slice, so I did this one solo.

• Best pizza all month: Not as easy to say this year as it was last year; it’s a toss-up between Motorino in Brooklyn, and my childhood neighborhood favorite, New England Pizza House #1, on Cape Cod.
• Worst pizza all month: Arizona Pizza Company in Hadley, MA. Better Fella’s (formerly Vinny Vella’s) in Brooklyn was a close runner up in this category too.
• Most interesting pizza experience: Definitely my trip to DiFara’s

I must say I was really surprised at how easy it was to complete Pizza Month this time around. I’m starting to think about stepping it up somehow next time (Pizza Season???)

I’ll let you know.

I always hated the annoying ads I see all over the internet for Busted Tees and their ironic t-shirts, but I have to give some credit for this one.

New pizza shirt on Threadless:

I’ve got some other pizza shirts I’ve been meaning to post about too. Soon.