PIZZA MEMORIES
To be featured on Peter Reinhart's podcast,
Pizza Quest during Fall 2023
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Unedited text of the pizza memories below.
If you're here because you'd like to share your own pizza memory, click here.
Proust's Pizza--Memories of pizza past, triggered by pizzas of today...
If you've found this page, it's probably because you were linked here from the Pizza Prousti blog post about pizza memories as described by pizza people presented with the question: Is there a bite of a particular pizza that takes you back to a pizza of the past.
In a nutshell, Proust's madeleine is a literary metaphor for a food that triggers a long-ago memory. It stems from Marcel Proust’s seven-volume novel, In Search of Lost Time. The story’s narrator has no memory of his childhood home. But one day, while tasting a madeleine dipped in tea, he is swept up by a nostalgic, childhood memory of having a tea-dipped madeleine with his invalid aunt.
Of course, we substituted pizza for the madeleine, and asked a few people what their Proust's pizza might be. (When asked this question, Peter Reinhart dubbed the exercise "Pizza Prousti," so we're running with it.
There wasn't nearly enough room in the original blog post for all of the answers in their full length. So, we've posted them here for your reading enjoyment.
Peter Reinhart
I grew up in Philadelphia in the 1950's and 1960's. My family had two go-to pizzerias: Mama's and Pagano's. They were different but each equally good and, because they formed an iconic part of my childhood, they represented, going forward, the benchmarks of what pizza ought to be. There were others, pretenders to the throne, but these two were the Coke and Pepsi of my formative pizza years. Since then, as I have reported in my writings, my world has expanded and Mama's and Pagano's have been parked in my cherished way-back-when memory vault, along with Bobby Rydel, Chubby Checkers, and the 1967 Champion Philadelphia 76ers with Wilt Chamberlain, where I sometimes served as Wilt's personal ballboy. Pagano's is long gone, folding up shop shortly after patriarch Charlie Pagano passed away. Mama's, where I was a sometimes delivery boy, is still going strong, in its third location, even after founder Paul Castelucci died, the family legacy carried on by his son Paul, Jr. But Paul Jr. was never a pizza savant like his dad and, instead, focused on his own personal passion, cheese steaks, crafting what I still believe are the best cheese steaks in Philadelphia (and, thus, in the world). In fact, Mama's stopped serving pizzas altogether about 5 years ago to focus on cheese steaks and hoagies. (I wrote a more extended version of this story in my book, "American Pie: My Search for the Perfect Pizza," should you care to track it down).
Those taste memories from Pagano's and Mama's are, nevertheless, imprinted onto my soul and, every once in a while, I'll taste a slice somewhere else that has a vibrant messy tomato sauce like Pagano's, or a blistery, bubbly crust with a gooey, stringy cheese pull like Mama's (which I later learned was caused by a blend of mozzarella, cheddar, and Parmesan cheeses) and I'm instantly transported back to my youth. This happens here in my new hometown of Charlotte, NC, where my pizza go-to places are Luisa's and also Geno D's. Luisa's triggers the Pagano's button, and Geno D's taps open the Mama's lock box. Geno D's is helmed by Geno DePaulo, originally from the Tom's River area of, NJ. He refers to his pizza as Jersey-style, which he describes as meaning, "Because I'm from New Jersey and my pizza is made with love." Okay, not too esoteric but it works for me. His pizza is baked in a conveyer Marshall Middleby "Wow Oven," which is nothing like the Baker's Pride deck oven that Paul Castelucci used at Mama's, but somehow the resulting Geno D's pizza sets off the time machine and I am instantly back in the original Mama's Pizzeria, with its 1950's Formica-topped tables, on Main Street in Manyunk, PA (way before Manyunk became gentrified and retro-trendy). The main thing that Geno's has in common with Mama's, I am forced to conclude, is that it is made with love and, everything else being equal, that is all the trigger I need.
Luisa's makes their pizzas in a wood-burning, gas-supported hybrid oven, an unheard-of concept when Pagano's, with its standard pizza deck ovens, was in full flower. But the balance of flavors and textures in Luisa's pizzas, especially their juicy tomato-pesto pizza (called "The Luisa"), blows open the memory vault and there I am, thanking Charlie Pagano for yet another memorable meal, including Pagano's signature Broasted Chicken (a pressure cooker/deep fryer hybrid, later adopted by KFC and the other fried chicken chains), and also their spaghetti with clam sauce (red or white, but I preferred the while).
Pagano's was a full tilt restaurant experience, while Mama's was all about pizza, hoagies, and cheese steaks. Both places, however, are etched in my taste memory hall of fame, and now, sixty years later, and 600 miles away, it's nice to know that they both still exist, reincarnated in spirit and taste, at Luisa's and Geno D's.
I grew up in Philadelphia in the 1950's and 1960's. My family had two go-to pizzerias: Mama's and Pagano's. They were different but each equally good and, because they formed an iconic part of my childhood, they represented, going forward, the benchmarks of what pizza ought to be. There were others, pretenders to the throne, but these two were the Coke and Pepsi of my formative pizza years. Since then, as I have reported in my writings, my world has expanded and Mama's and Pagano's have been parked in my cherished way-back-when memory vault, along with Bobby Rydel, Chubby Checkers, and the 1967 Champion Philadelphia 76ers with Wilt Chamberlain, where I sometimes served as Wilt's personal ballboy. Pagano's is long gone, folding up shop shortly after patriarch Charlie Pagano passed away. Mama's, where I was a sometimes delivery boy, is still going strong, in its third location, even after founder Paul Castelucci died, the family legacy carried on by his son Paul, Jr. But Paul Jr. was never a pizza savant like his dad and, instead, focused on his own personal passion, cheese steaks, crafting what I still believe are the best cheese steaks in Philadelphia (and, thus, in the world). In fact, Mama's stopped serving pizzas altogether about 5 years ago to focus on cheese steaks and hoagies. (I wrote a more extended version of this story in my book, "American Pie: My Search for the Perfect Pizza," should you care to track it down).
Those taste memories from Pagano's and Mama's are, nevertheless, imprinted onto my soul and, every once in a while, I'll taste a slice somewhere else that has a vibrant messy tomato sauce like Pagano's, or a blistery, bubbly crust with a gooey, stringy cheese pull like Mama's (which I later learned was caused by a blend of mozzarella, cheddar, and Parmesan cheeses) and I'm instantly transported back to my youth. This happens here in my new hometown of Charlotte, NC, where my pizza go-to places are Luisa's and also Geno D's. Luisa's triggers the Pagano's button, and Geno D's taps open the Mama's lock box. Geno D's is helmed by Geno DePaulo, originally from the Tom's River area of, NJ. He refers to his pizza as Jersey-style, which he describes as meaning, "Because I'm from New Jersey and my pizza is made with love." Okay, not too esoteric but it works for me. His pizza is baked in a conveyer Marshall Middleby "Wow Oven," which is nothing like the Baker's Pride deck oven that Paul Castelucci used at Mama's, but somehow the resulting Geno D's pizza sets off the time machine and I am instantly back in the original Mama's Pizzeria, with its 1950's Formica-topped tables, on Main Street in Manyunk, PA (way before Manyunk became gentrified and retro-trendy). The main thing that Geno's has in common with Mama's, I am forced to conclude, is that it is made with love and, everything else being equal, that is all the trigger I need.
Luisa's makes their pizzas in a wood-burning, gas-supported hybrid oven, an unheard-of concept when Pagano's, with its standard pizza deck ovens, was in full flower. But the balance of flavors and textures in Luisa's pizzas, especially their juicy tomato-pesto pizza (called "The Luisa"), blows open the memory vault and there I am, thanking Charlie Pagano for yet another memorable meal, including Pagano's signature Broasted Chicken (a pressure cooker/deep fryer hybrid, later adopted by KFC and the other fried chicken chains), and also their spaghetti with clam sauce (red or white, but I preferred the while).
Pagano's was a full tilt restaurant experience, while Mama's was all about pizza, hoagies, and cheese steaks. Both places, however, are etched in my taste memory hall of fame, and now, sixty years later, and 600 miles away, it's nice to know that they both still exist, reincarnated in spirit and taste, at Luisa's and Geno D's.
Andris Lagsdin
I remember the 7 minute bake like it was yesterday. I made a figs 12 hour dough on a sunday morning, and baked it up about later that afternoon. My only goal was to see if that pizza would bake. I had made a lot of pizzas at home on a pizza stone up to that point. I used the same strategy. Bake it at 500 F for about 10 minutes. I was merely trying to replicate the pizza of a pizza stone, not improve. My expectations were minimal. But when that pizza cooked about 30% faster than my pizza stone on the first attempt i was sold and super excited. I couldn't believe it. That was a one pizza test that was the birth of the Baking Steel.
The more pizzas i made, i felt so strong that the Steel would outshine a pizza stone 10 out of 10 times. That first pizza i made on a Steel will be in my memory bank forever...
Figs at home, finally..
I remember the 7 minute bake like it was yesterday. I made a figs 12 hour dough on a sunday morning, and baked it up about later that afternoon. My only goal was to see if that pizza would bake. I had made a lot of pizzas at home on a pizza stone up to that point. I used the same strategy. Bake it at 500 F for about 10 minutes. I was merely trying to replicate the pizza of a pizza stone, not improve. My expectations were minimal. But when that pizza cooked about 30% faster than my pizza stone on the first attempt i was sold and super excited. I couldn't believe it. That was a one pizza test that was the birth of the Baking Steel.
The more pizzas i made, i felt so strong that the Steel would outshine a pizza stone 10 out of 10 times. That first pizza i made on a Steel will be in my memory bank forever...
Figs at home, finally..
Tuan Tran
Growing up in a Vietnamese household, we didn't eat pizza. My parents weren't very familiar with pizza. It was something my sisters and I would eat only at school or at birthday party of my non Viet friends.
I do remember the first time I remember having pizza. I was in 1st grade at Escambia elementary in Pensacola, FL. There was a Domino's pizza very close to the school. So close that during a field trip there, we walked single file to the store. There I was welcomed by (at that time) a very foreign smell to me. The smell of a pizza shop. Dough, yeast, pizza cooking in the ovens.
Every pizza shop regardless if it's a chain or a local shop has their own smells. Watching and learning how pizza was made (at Dominos) was a very fun and exciting time. We got to make a bunch of pizzas for the class. The first slice I ate was from a pepperoni pizza.
Up until that moment, I have no memory of every eating pizza.
From that moment on until my adult life, every time I have Dominos, it brings me back to that moment in Pensacola. That is the first time I remembered having pizza.
Now has an adult, I have had the pleasure of eating some of the best and some of the worst pizzas in my years.
Another pizza that will always have a soft spot in my heart will be Totino's party pizza. That was the first pizza my mom ever bought for us to eat at home. I remember me and my 3 little sisters getting excited when she would bring some home from the store.
We were so little that 2 of these were enough to feed all 4 of us. Plus being that Totino's was invented IN MN, it will be awarded bonus points for being home brewed. [EDITOR'S NOTE: Tuan grew up in Minnesota.]
Now, Totino's and Domino's are far from being the best pizzas I’ve ever had, but they are indeed memorable to me.
Growing up in a Vietnamese household, we didn't eat pizza. My parents weren't very familiar with pizza. It was something my sisters and I would eat only at school or at birthday party of my non Viet friends.
I do remember the first time I remember having pizza. I was in 1st grade at Escambia elementary in Pensacola, FL. There was a Domino's pizza very close to the school. So close that during a field trip there, we walked single file to the store. There I was welcomed by (at that time) a very foreign smell to me. The smell of a pizza shop. Dough, yeast, pizza cooking in the ovens.
Every pizza shop regardless if it's a chain or a local shop has their own smells. Watching and learning how pizza was made (at Dominos) was a very fun and exciting time. We got to make a bunch of pizzas for the class. The first slice I ate was from a pepperoni pizza.
Up until that moment, I have no memory of every eating pizza.
From that moment on until my adult life, every time I have Dominos, it brings me back to that moment in Pensacola. That is the first time I remembered having pizza.
Now has an adult, I have had the pleasure of eating some of the best and some of the worst pizzas in my years.
Another pizza that will always have a soft spot in my heart will be Totino's party pizza. That was the first pizza my mom ever bought for us to eat at home. I remember me and my 3 little sisters getting excited when she would bring some home from the store.
We were so little that 2 of these were enough to feed all 4 of us. Plus being that Totino's was invented IN MN, it will be awarded bonus points for being home brewed. [EDITOR'S NOTE: Tuan grew up in Minnesota.]
Now, Totino's and Domino's are far from being the best pizzas I’ve ever had, but they are indeed memorable to me.
Stephanie Swane
I have a couple but the more recent one is Benny Tudino’s in Hoboken, NJ.
When you walk into the place the smell of a NY slice house hits you straight on and the oven is right when you walk in so you can see what’s coming out and how many slices are in for reheat.
Benny’s was my late night spot after a show at Maxwell’s, hanging out with friends at Louise & Jerry’s on Washington St. or my last stop on my way home from NYC.
The white pie was always my moment of rejoice when I would take that first bite of the slice that’s the size of a pizza box, the ricotta and combo of cheeses melted in my mouth. It was a celebration of the night’s accomplishments in a slice that if it was a great night or a shitty night it was always there for me.
Moving from the West coast where slice shops were rare, this was an amazing adventure and anything open past 11pm that was good was even more difficult to find out west.
Whenever anyone came to town it was always the spot of choice to have a slice either in one of their awesome booths to people watch, to take to go in a pizza box and sit on a bench in the park famous from On the Waterfront on my way home or the rarity waiting the 15 minute walk home to open the box to start devouring a slice.
It’s the whole package of what a NY slice shop meant to me and still does when I want that classic white pie slice – for over 50 years they have kept the party people of Hoboken very happy.
I have a couple but the more recent one is Benny Tudino’s in Hoboken, NJ.
When you walk into the place the smell of a NY slice house hits you straight on and the oven is right when you walk in so you can see what’s coming out and how many slices are in for reheat.
Benny’s was my late night spot after a show at Maxwell’s, hanging out with friends at Louise & Jerry’s on Washington St. or my last stop on my way home from NYC.
The white pie was always my moment of rejoice when I would take that first bite of the slice that’s the size of a pizza box, the ricotta and combo of cheeses melted in my mouth. It was a celebration of the night’s accomplishments in a slice that if it was a great night or a shitty night it was always there for me.
Moving from the West coast where slice shops were rare, this was an amazing adventure and anything open past 11pm that was good was even more difficult to find out west.
Whenever anyone came to town it was always the spot of choice to have a slice either in one of their awesome booths to people watch, to take to go in a pizza box and sit on a bench in the park famous from On the Waterfront on my way home or the rarity waiting the 15 minute walk home to open the box to start devouring a slice.
It’s the whole package of what a NY slice shop meant to me and still does when I want that classic white pie slice – for over 50 years they have kept the party people of Hoboken very happy.
Kevin Godbee
My base reference point for pizza is Nino's Pizza and Subs in North Brunswick, NJ. I still remember it as the best pizza I ever had, and every once in a while, I'll find something just as good, and it brings me back to Friday Family Pizza Night at home with family, neighbors and friends, and at least two large pizza boxes open on the table. I didn't have a care in the world except where my next slice of pizza was coming from.
Nino's was (and still is) 2/10th of a mile, or a four minute walk from the house I grew up in, and my family and I ate their pizza all of the time. Antonino “Nino” Bellavia immigrated from Sicily to Brooklyn in 1964. He moved to North Brunswick in 1973 when he opened Nino's Pizza and Subs. He retired in 2008 when his son Tony took over the restaurant, which is still there today in the same spot, but not the same building. (I went to school with Tony. The school bus would actually drop him off at the restaurant rather than home, so I guess he was apprenticing at the time.) Back then, Nino's was a standalone building with a loose flint stone parking lot. Now it's Nino's Plaza - a full strip mall with a paved parking lot and several other stores.
There is a lot of good pizza to be found, but it's harder to find really great pizza. There are two places that I think are the best that bring me back to my childhood.
The first one is aptly named, Best Pizza, 33 Havemeyer St, Brooklyn, NY 11211. The first bite, and you just have to pause and close your eyes. Luckily for me, the other place is a 5-minute car ride from my house. Nicko's Pizza and Subs, 1239 4th St South, St. Petersburg, FL 33701, has been open for just a year and a half, and I had their pepperoni pizza as recently as yesterday, and must have repeated myself five times, "This is sooo good!"
My base reference point for pizza is Nino's Pizza and Subs in North Brunswick, NJ. I still remember it as the best pizza I ever had, and every once in a while, I'll find something just as good, and it brings me back to Friday Family Pizza Night at home with family, neighbors and friends, and at least two large pizza boxes open on the table. I didn't have a care in the world except where my next slice of pizza was coming from.
Nino's was (and still is) 2/10th of a mile, or a four minute walk from the house I grew up in, and my family and I ate their pizza all of the time. Antonino “Nino” Bellavia immigrated from Sicily to Brooklyn in 1964. He moved to North Brunswick in 1973 when he opened Nino's Pizza and Subs. He retired in 2008 when his son Tony took over the restaurant, which is still there today in the same spot, but not the same building. (I went to school with Tony. The school bus would actually drop him off at the restaurant rather than home, so I guess he was apprenticing at the time.) Back then, Nino's was a standalone building with a loose flint stone parking lot. Now it's Nino's Plaza - a full strip mall with a paved parking lot and several other stores.
There is a lot of good pizza to be found, but it's harder to find really great pizza. There are two places that I think are the best that bring me back to my childhood.
The first one is aptly named, Best Pizza, 33 Havemeyer St, Brooklyn, NY 11211. The first bite, and you just have to pause and close your eyes. Luckily for me, the other place is a 5-minute car ride from my house. Nicko's Pizza and Subs, 1239 4th St South, St. Petersburg, FL 33701, has been open for just a year and a half, and I had their pepperoni pizza as recently as yesterday, and must have repeated myself five times, "This is sooo good!"
Albert Grande
If I am in Southeastern Ct / Westerly, Rhode Island / Pawcatuck, Rhode Island / there is a person / shop called The Pizza Lady who makes pizza strips. Going to parties at Jon F.'s house he will often order from the shop. Those pizza strips take me back to those childhood days...
You know after much thought, and going through the pizza files in my mind... my favorite childhood pizza memories are from pizza strips in Rhode Island. I was born in Rhode Island and moved to Connecticut when I was 11 or 12. All the relatives lived in Rhode Island and we would go back frequently...These were thin, strips of dough lathered with sauce. You could only find them in bakeries... very unusual and very much a regional pizza
If I am in Southeastern Ct / Westerly, Rhode Island / Pawcatuck, Rhode Island / there is a person / shop called The Pizza Lady who makes pizza strips. Going to parties at Jon F.'s house he will often order from the shop. Those pizza strips take me back to those childhood days...
You know after much thought, and going through the pizza files in my mind... my favorite childhood pizza memories are from pizza strips in Rhode Island. I was born in Rhode Island and moved to Connecticut when I was 11 or 12. All the relatives lived in Rhode Island and we would go back frequently...These were thin, strips of dough lathered with sauce. You could only find them in bakeries... very unusual and very much a regional pizza
Chuck Park
My "Proustian" pizza, my benchmark that I compare all NY thin crust pizzas to, was from Sante's Restaurant on Central Ave in Greenville (Scarsdale), NY.
It had a simple, tasteful tomato sauce, high-quality mozzarella, and a thin leopard-spotted crust, with charred cornicione bubbles.
Sadly, Sante's has been gone for decades, but I was lucky enough to find a restaurateur who was also a childhood fan of Sante's, and makes Sante's style pizza in his restaurant, Abbatino's in North White Plains, NY.
The owner of Abbatino's worked at Sante's when he was a kid, just before it closed, so his pies are a tribute to Sante's. It's the whole package; the look, the smell, and the taste.
My "Proustian" pizza, my benchmark that I compare all NY thin crust pizzas to, was from Sante's Restaurant on Central Ave in Greenville (Scarsdale), NY.
It had a simple, tasteful tomato sauce, high-quality mozzarella, and a thin leopard-spotted crust, with charred cornicione bubbles.
Sadly, Sante's has been gone for decades, but I was lucky enough to find a restaurateur who was also a childhood fan of Sante's, and makes Sante's style pizza in his restaurant, Abbatino's in North White Plains, NY.
The owner of Abbatino's worked at Sante's when he was a kid, just before it closed, so his pies are a tribute to Sante's. It's the whole package; the look, the smell, and the taste.
Honey Parker
Pizza Bite Memory.
A bite that took me back in time came courtesy of my live-in pizzaiolo, Mr. Parker.
The place it took me back to was a restaurant/bar in Northeast Philly called Vitale’s. Think dark wood paneling and servers who’d been there forever. I don’t remember the first time I had a Vitale’s pie because it was a staple of my youth. We’d often go when we visited my dad’s parents, who lived just a few blocks away.
Thin crust, cheese on the bottom. The sauce wasn’t too sweet and the bite on the cheese was completely satisfying. (NOTE: Always add dried oregano on top.) The pizza has become a legend because the pizzaiolo died with the recipe. I know. Tragic.
But the pizza memory I associate most with Vitale’s was the time my older sister and younger brother went on our own. El and I were legal drinking age, but Matt wasn’t. After trying and failing to get a beer (Remember, the staff had been there forever and knew how old my brother wasn’t) he was served a Coke.
My sister was joking about his botched beer attempted and Matt, trying to contain his laughter, shot soda out his nose and onto the pizza. That lead to more laughter, but much harder. And, of course, a fresh pizza.
My family still waxes poetic about this pie. It’s the standard we hold all other pizza to. The fact the Mr. Parker came close is a shocking and delightful.
Pizza Bite Memory.
A bite that took me back in time came courtesy of my live-in pizzaiolo, Mr. Parker.
The place it took me back to was a restaurant/bar in Northeast Philly called Vitale’s. Think dark wood paneling and servers who’d been there forever. I don’t remember the first time I had a Vitale’s pie because it was a staple of my youth. We’d often go when we visited my dad’s parents, who lived just a few blocks away.
Thin crust, cheese on the bottom. The sauce wasn’t too sweet and the bite on the cheese was completely satisfying. (NOTE: Always add dried oregano on top.) The pizza has become a legend because the pizzaiolo died with the recipe. I know. Tragic.
But the pizza memory I associate most with Vitale’s was the time my older sister and younger brother went on our own. El and I were legal drinking age, but Matt wasn’t. After trying and failing to get a beer (Remember, the staff had been there forever and knew how old my brother wasn’t) he was served a Coke.
My sister was joking about his botched beer attempted and Matt, trying to contain his laughter, shot soda out his nose and onto the pizza. That lead to more laughter, but much harder. And, of course, a fresh pizza.
My family still waxes poetic about this pie. It’s the standard we hold all other pizza to. The fact the Mr. Parker came close is a shocking and delightful.