Every conversation about pizza is a trap. Is thin crust better than tossed crust? Is pineapple an acceptable ingredient? Should Tomato Sauce be Cooked or Raw? If mozzarella isn’t from buffalo, is it margarita? Can I keep eating the crust? Is yeast dough better than dough made with commercial yeast? Are Coal Stoves Better Than Wood Burning Stoves? Does California have its own style? Chicago-style deep-calculated pizza?Many people claim to have the answer because everyone believes they’re a pizza expert — including actual Pizza experts, they are nightmares. But there are no answers, only conflict and stubbornness. Belief in pizza is so varied and so pervasive that it almost descends into Jungian territory as a window into the self and the shadow.The pizza from your childhood, the pizza from the place you thought was home, the pizza that made you realize that pizza can actually be delicious – each one of the best pizzas in the history of the world because it was your world. Tell me what you think is the perfect pizza and I’ll show you who you are.
On a recent Saturday night at 8:30 p.m., the queue for a slice outside Scarr’s Pizza — which opened in July and across the street from the now-closed Lower East Side location — along Orchard Street All the way to the end of the street. Turning west down Hearst Street, you end up with a constant stream of people coming and going, not sure if the wait and the pizza at the terminal was worth it. “Worth” is one of those cunning concepts that plagues our commoditized, optimized lives. The poor soul at the end of the 100+ person line will pay $3.75 for the slice like everyone else, but spend an extra hour or so in line. But then there’s the slice itself: a large, tapering wedge, maybe topped with round pepperoni, or studded with sexy mushrooms, maybe just a pure and simple triangle of sauce and cheese. It’ll be Skal’s slice—a legendary slice, an “if you knew you knew it” slice, and a slice that will earn you a heart-eye emoji when you post it on Instagram. Because if you want a good piece, Scale’s is the place to go – like, real Well, as good as “Best Slice in New York”. Whatever “best” means. No matter who it means to.
Cocktails and classic pizzas are served in the spacious restaurant at the back. Caesar salad with cashew vegan dressing is one of the best salads in town.
Is it worth it? I don’t know how to answer this question, and I would be skeptical of anyone who claims to know. All pizza is relative, and New York pizza is even more so. Millions of words have been written about the city’s best places to go, the best spots have been ranked, and the best itineraries to crawl and visit have been charted. People have declared with great confidence throughout their careers that a good pizza from one pizzeria is closer to the Platonic ideal than a pizza from another. There’s a reason why pizza has become the subject of obsession: As with all very simple things, the smallest changes in approach can have a huge impact on the end result.
I will say this: any list of great pizzas other than Scal’s Pizza should not be trusted. Restaurant slices are great, just the side is impeccable. The crust is fantastic, light and a little tangy, with a firm bottom and almost immediately a bouncy interior. No grease puddles, no bald dough, no annoying air bubbles or stray burnt marks. The entire building has admirable structural integrity, neither sagging nor flooding. The sauce is bright and fresh — it can be a bit bland, but nothing a little chili can’t lift. I can also tell you this: if you go to Scal’s in the middle of the week, early in the lunch rush, maybe with a little rain, you’ll find the line outside the door is only four feet long, so, is it “worth it” The question doesn’t matter at all.
Restaurant owner and founder Scarr Pimentel grew up in a Dominican family in Hamilton Heights. As a teenager, he got a job as a waitress at celebrity restaurant Emilio’s Ballato in Nolita, where he began to learn the basics of turning flour, yeast and water into dough. He turned to pizzerias—Artichoke Basille’s, known for its gigantic slices, and Lombardi’s, arguably the birthplace of New York pizza—and began to perfect his sense of pizza perfection. Opened in 2016, Scarr’s Pizza has a small, brown-wood-paneled interior with molded Formica stands and a kitschy, late-’70s vibe. It’s a deliberate aesthetic that’s as much a play on nostalgia as it is a subversion. Pimentel, a black Latino rising to prominence in a world dominated by white pizza, is not paying homage to the pizzeria of his youth; He is claiming them.
