New York owns pizza. It's a simple fact. New Jersey proffers a highly respectable imitation, but every other state has much to learn – a bold statement I know, but you can’t argue with the truth. To all the many pizza producing wannabes out there - Ellios, bowling alleys, Papa John's, the entire city of Chicago - you are all embarrassing yourselves. Cut your losses and find something you are actually capable of doing well.
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| A newly converted believer at Grimaldi's in NY (aka my handsome bf) |
With that said the bar for exceptional pizza was set over 100 years ago by a New York family who today in their famous location perched on Old Fulton Street in Brooklyn not-so-quietly creates the most life-changingly delicious pizza one could ever fantasize about. In fact, this particular pie is so lusted for, on any given day customers will wait in line outside of Grimaldi's Pizzeria under the Brooklyn Bridge for hours to snag a bite of their heavenly creations. I have had the pleasure of enjoying the Grimaldi experience on two occasions, the latest of which with my boyfriend Alex who prior to the visit thought my insistence that we make the trek from midtown Manhattan to Brooklyn so we could wait in line for several hours on an excruciatingly hot summer day bordered maniacal. One bite into our coal-fired brick oven pie and he too became a true believer, itching to spread the good word of Grimaldi's divine tastiness.
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| Scottsdale's respectable rendition of a NY Classic |
Given my humble admiration for this NY treasure, you can imagine my surprise when my roommates in Arizona spotted a sign for a Grimaldi's Pizzeria in none other than Scottsdale, AZ. Could it be a mirage? A figment of my innermost dining dreams? Is it possible that THE Grimaldi's had gone mainstream and sowed its seeds across the nation hoping to educate the non-believers? With all these questions consuming my thoughts we obviously had to stop and indulge. Pulling into the parking lot and admiring the familiar Grimaldi's logo brought memories of my last visit rushing back -- the perfectly crisp and salty thin crust, the made-that-morning mozzarella, the fresh basil leaves, the just-right homemade tomato sauce, all greaseless, bursting with smoky flavor, incredibly fresh. Needless to say, this establishment had some rather monumental shoes to fill. Cutting to the chase, it was a decent knockoff, lacking the signature freshness of the original but making me feel more at home with every bite than anything I'd yet to encounter out here in AZ, so for that I'll write it off as a success. Scottsdale, you continue to renew my faith that good eats may just be lurking amidst the plethora of cacti and tarantulas that thus far, are Arizona.
