Ashlyn Oakes
“Just pizza? Let me tell you about the thing you say is just pizza,” Marshall Erikson once contested on the sitcom “How I Met Your Mother.” He goes on to describe pizza in a manner more intimate than I feel comfortable quoting (here is the link to quench your curiosity). But he’s not wrong. Pizza is never just pizza.
“Cos’è la pizza?” To some, it’s the ultimate comfort food for those at-home family movie nights. For others, it’s a true delicacy that should be savored with every bite of melted mozzarella, smoldering sauce and crunchy crust. Some like it hot, some like it cold (yes, I’ve met that someone). Some like it red, some like it white (shame on them, though). Some cover it with toppings, while others enjoy it blissfully bare (like young Kevin McCallister).
To college students, though, pizza is arguably the sole food that fuels our curiosity, satiates our two-in-the-morning cravings and forges our friendships. Though I was only on campus for a little under three months, I made myself a sauce-sworn promise that I would scavenge every inch of the New Haven pizza scene that I could.
It was a cool summer Sunday night in New Haven. The city was slowly drifting to sleep, preparing for the new week ahead. But me? I was wide awake and positively ravenous. I had just flown in a few hours earlier, having eaten nothing all day but the free Biscoff cookies given on Delta flights. Our plan was to have dinner at Modern Apizza, supposedly one of the best pizzerias in the country along with Sally’s Apizza and Frank Pepe Pizzeria Napoletana (the New Haven pizza triumvirate, as I like to call them). We probably should have checked the restaurant’s hours before driving over there, though. By 8:45, we were driving aimlessly around a new city at night, stomachs rumbling and patience wearing thin.
“We should just go to the next open restaurant we see,” I sighed.
In the distance, I saw twinkling lights, signaling some kind of culinary refuge. It was NOLO. And let me tell you right now: this was the BEST pizza that I have ever eaten in New Haven. Nothing compares to the NOLO margherita pizza, with its just-right amount of thick mozzarella and aromatic basil that didn’t overwhelm the abundance of fresh tomato sauce. The crust was crispy, yet soft, baring its perfectly blackened edges that told me it was a real pizza and not from the frozen aisle.
About a year before that eye-opening pizza experience, I had the privilege to eat at both the iconic Yorkside Pizza and Frank Pepe Pizzeria Napoletana with my dad when we were visiting Yale. It was a few months before I had even sent in my application, so everything I saw or ate held significance. That one glance at Harkness Tower or that one bite of Donut Crazy’s maple bacon donut could have been my last. So, I made sure to relish every slice of pizza I got my hands on.
Once again, I was ravenous after having been on a plane all day. It was nearing 10 o’clock when my dad and I finally sat down in a booth in Yorkside Pizza. When the waitress served our pizza (quite promptly I might add), there was steam rising out of the sausage topping, luring me in. There is something about their pizza that just hits the spot every time; maybe it’s the Yale paraphernalia on the walls or the incredibly convenient location, but every time I eat at Yorkside, it feels like home.
Is that too cheesy? I don’t think so, but do you know what was too cheesy? Frank Pepe’s pizza (for my liking, at least). Now, there are people who would drop everything and get on a plane to New Haven just to experience a slice of Frank Pepe’s pizza. After trying it, I am not one of those people. Don’t get me wrong — it was great pizza! The unique oblong shape of the pizza and locally produced soda to accompany my meal were certainly memorable (the thirty-minute wait less so), but I hold the cheese-to-sauce ratio sacred. If you love cheese, though, you won’t regret dining at this historic pizzeria.
Next on the menu is Modern Apizza. This place was quite adorable, with its wood décor, cozy booths and warm, welcoming staff. Eating here felt like a scene out of Mystic Pizza (an equally adorable movie about three young women working at a pizzeria in Mystic, Connecticut). If you’re looking for that small-town ambiance but big-impact pizza, definitely go there! The pizza was a bit messy and unrefined, but who cares about those things when it’s just plain delicious?
And then, there is the final member of the triumvirate: Sally’s Apizza. Throughout my first semester, I passed Sally’s Apizza over a dozen times during my runs to Long Wharf. Without fail, the outside seating area was always packed to the gills, and it is no wonder why. My suitemates and I had the opportunity to order four free pizzas towards the end of our first semester at Yale. I made sure to order from Sally’s Apizza so that I could see exactly why their pizza drew crowds everyday, even in the midst of a pandemic. One bite of my bacon pizza gave me the answer. I thought that I might regret eating the entire pizza. I didn’t. The saltiness of the bacon tangoed perfectly on my tongue with the sweet tomato sauce, and the best part was the just-right amount of cheese to top it all off.
Apart from these famed pizzerias, there are a few more spots close to campus that deliver in flavor: Brick Oven Pizza (which also has some great deals!) and Est Est Est Pizza. There’s also BAR Pizza, which is famous for its mashed potato and bacon pie. It wasn’t bad, but let’s be honest: if there’s no sauce or cheese, is it even a pizza?
Pizza has become such a staple of American society, despite its Italian roots, that we’ll settle for anything these days, even a DiGiorno Croissant Crust pizza or a soggy and flavorless Domino’s pizza. But I’m begging you to slap some sense into those taste buds of yours and explore New Haven’s extraordinary pizzerias which are dipped in rich history and flavor and can somehow convince you it’s okay to eat all eight slices. So, drop that açai bowl and go eat some real New Haven food!