The Mango Lassie

I have been known to wait in line for great food. When it comes to vaunted establishments like Sally’s or Pepe’s in New Haven, CT or the original Pizzeria Uno in Chicago, I have even been known to wait in line for great pizza. But no matter how fantastic the food is, waiting is usually a serious deterrent to frequent visits. And waiting in sub-zero temperatures, as we were visited with last week in New York, is just not something I am willing to do. Luckily, Empanada Boy and I had great timing when we decided to stop in at Brooklyn’s legendary coal brick-oven pizzeria, Grimaldi’s.

I was flying into JFK after a week of reporting in Southern California, and EB was kindly driving out to meet me at the airport. My plane didn’t land until around 9:30 pm. Neither of us had eaten dinner, so we saw it as our chance to stop somewhere outside our normal dining range. EB used to be a frequent visitor to Grimaldi’s, and he couldn’t wait to see whether it lived up to his memories. After some winding around beneath the Brooklyn Bridge, we found the restaurant. By then it was after 10 pm, and we had the pick of the red-checkered tables. The restaurant is delightfully old-school and somewhat shabby with a faded awing and an interior decorated with nostalgic trinkets. Most of these were related to Frank Sinatra, for whom Grimaldi’s is supposed to have been a favorite. (I have also heard stories of Sinatra sending his driver to all the way New Haven for Sally’s pies or for clam pizza at Pepe’s.) Others were just celebrity/Italian/mafia-related posters, signed photos and souvenirs.

EB and I sat down and hungrily ordered a plain large pizza and a bottle of wine. A large is 18″, and a small is only two inches smaller. Why not get the bigger one? A plain pizza is $14 or so, with an added cost for each topping. EB assured me that the superior quality of the ingredients made even a plain pizza a near religious experience. He was right. Our beautiful pizza arrived fresh from the oven a few minutes later. The sauce tasted slightly sweet like just-picked tomatoes; circles of fresh mozzarella were smattered across the surface like ethereal snowflakes; sprigs of fresh basil added color and the perfect bite. But most of all, this pizza stood out because of its crust. Deliciously chewy with a slight touch of sweetness and wonderful, slightly charred bubbles, this was a masterpiece of a crust. This texture is incredibly hard to come by, even in New York, in large part because very few places have the license to run a coal-powered brick oven. We noted that Grimaldi’s pizza is a uniquely Italian-American style, more specifically New York-style. You wouldn’t find it in Naples or Rome; you couldn’t even find it in Chicago.

We ate our whole pizza (of course). I considered this to be a pretty big feat, but the average-sized couple at the table next to us finished one plain pie only to be brought another pepperoni of which they ate half. We were full, but our eyes were bigger than our stomachs. Cannoli were calling out to us from the menu, and we had to order one. This cannolo was not the best we’d tried, but it seemed to have been filled in-house. It seemed like a nice light way to end the meal until we stood up. We were full until we went to bed that night, but what’s a better food for dreams than perfect pizza and creamy cannoli? Perhaps the thought of getting to eat it all without having to wait in line.

Grimaldi’s Pizzeria
19 Old Fulton St.
Under the Brooklyn Bridge
Brooklyn, NY 11201
718.858.4300