Nothing Humble About this Pie

Those “in the know” when it comes to the New York pizza scene have probably caught wind of the whirlwind of chatter surrounding East Village newcomer Artichoke Pizza & Brewery. This controversial newbie has incited a riot within the notoriously cantankerous sub-culture of the NYC pizza-obsessed. With their indulgent pies that have called for comparison to legendary Di Fara’s in Brooklyn, cousins Sal and Fran have managed to further polarize an already starkly divided community of pizza aficionados. Be that as it may, in light of the ridiculously long lines, erratic hours, and paper plate-printed pleas for help in finding housing (they can’t sustain the commute from Staten Island), it should be no surprise that Artichoke’s struggle with instant fame remains as much the story as the pizza itself.

So how good is this pie anyway?

While recently running a quick errand in SoHo, in the throngs of a sluggish gaggle of fanny-packed, Capri-clad Frederic Prinz von Anhalt look-alikes, I had a sudden pang for a slice or two (or three). Hungry, focused, and fed up with the downtown commotion of map-flapping, exchange-rate gouging, over-tanned Francophones gorging themselves on discount tank tops at Old Navy while on “holiday”, I had to eat. I was more than delighted to schlep 20 blocks to the northern rim of the East Village on what would ultimately be my pizza pilgrimage to Artichoke Pizza and Brewery.

On a relatively unpolished clip of 14th street, just east of 2nd avenue, Artichoke is plenty easy to find, not so much for its enticing signage, but because of the line of people that are snaked onto the sidewalk. At 2:30 in the afternoon, an out-the-door, single-file line of devout pizza pilgrims almost entirely dammed foot traffic on the south side of 14th street. Are they giving something away here? What the hell is this all about?

While on any other day I would’ve blown out of there quicker than Jeremiah Wright at a 9/11 Memorial Service, I decided to pull an Obama and stick around. Resigned to mingling with other pizza piss-ants, I counted on the heated anticipation of a great pie to dull the throbbing pain that comes with realizing I had nothing better to do with my Saturday afternoon than to spend 25 minutes waiting for a slice of pizza. Like a government-run Soviet soup kitchen in downtown Kiev, pathetic onlookers sulked and slavered at the trickling flow of customers that emerged one by one, from the cramped parlor with prized pizza product in hand. To be honest, I’ve never seen anything like this, and as amusing as it was to watch, enough was enough…I want to eat!

Inside the shoebox-sized parlor, narrow counters square off a small space that barely accommodates the line of local lemmings pining for pie. Even so, the narrow elbow-high ledge that lines the opposite wall is a powerful (albeit subtle) reminder that these guys care about those who insist on immediate consumption.

Having invested the better part of an hour getting to this hallowed counter, there was no way I wasn’t ordering a slice of all three pies. The round pie was sturdy, if not a bit heavy, and adorned with a liberal amount of mozzarella, red gravy, and parmesan cheese. A crunchy, textured bottom crust dominates the overall mouthfeel of this creation, packing more than a enough structure to support its bulky blanket of cheese and red gravy. This slice is proud and isn’t afraid to show it, amounting to one of the better round slices I’ve had in the city…though a second trip will be necessary to further elaborate..

Before I could fully process the succulent simplicity of the round pie, the square slice started talking to me, and I yelled right back. Thick, dense, and again, a bit stocky, I enjoyed the square even more than the round. Notwithstanding my well known powerful predilection for square pies, Artichoke’s creation was brawny, masculine, and sure of itself. A dense layer of cheese covered with streaming swaths of robust red gravy makes this rectangular masterpiece an exciting proposition for anyone who is man enough to accept it. There is no doubt I will be back for the square.

Channeling the Vanessa Williams in me, I saved the best for last, turning my attention to the eponymous offering that is responsible for all this mayhem; the Spinach and Artichoke pizza. Given the fact that I’m not much of a “toppings” guy, my initial reaction to an artichoke pizza was less than favorable. Expecting a regular pie sopped with canned salt-laden artichoke hearts, I instead, got a beautifully plump, wide-crusted slice covered in a snowy white blanket of rich goodness. This “sauce” as Sal behind the counter calls it, is a smooth and sinfully salty concoction of artichokes, spinach, garlic, cream, and white wine. This was easily the most enjoyable of all three slices, and of course, the most unique. Yet as decadent and divine as each bite is, this baby is a true calorie-bomb, and though I’d prefer not to have to use the word “heavy”, it in fact is just that, making multiple slices a feat for even the most ravenous of appetites. Either way, whether you like the regular pie or not, it behooves anyone with a passion for pizza to try the Spinach and Artichoke slice. I would be very surprised if you didn’t find it to be unlike anything you’ve ever had.

As an amateur pizzaiola myself, watching Sal, by his lonesome behind the counter, methodically making each pie while tending to a relentless herd of customers, was inspiring, if not, touching. Perhaps I can see how the inconsistent hours, shortage of pies (they often run out of Artichoke sauce), and long waits, in some instances, curt service, have left many miffed, disappointed, and resentful toward this promising pizza player, I can’t say I completely understand; in fact, I find it rather annoying. If anything, Artichoke is blessing, a rare example of a business born out of 3 men’s shared passion and love for making pizza their way at their pace. Maybe they are a little slow; maybe they do run out of the good stuff sometimes, but when this obsessive passion for perfection and consistency is joined by stronger business sense and greater efficiency, Artichoke will become a force to be reckoned with.

I apologize for no pictures, but this was an impromptu run. I will return soon and upate with pics!! Sorry!!

Artichoke Pizza and Brewery