Most of you have probably read Brad English\u2019s superb coverage of this years Pizza Expo. The Expo is certainly the premier event for pizza pros and is, quite simply, the \u201cmust see\u201d event for anyone who is serious about a career in pizza. With that being said, this year I overheard something that at once disturbed me and got me thinking about where pizza is headed. While standing at the entrance to Expo on the first morning I overheard two executives from one of the “Big Three” chains chatting about their product. One of them asked:\u00a0\u201c How do you like the new Original Recipe Dough?\u201d \u00a0\u00a0The other replied without a trace of irony \u201cOh, I like it much better than the old Original Recipe Dough\u201d<\/p>\n
Well, this may sound funny at first but to old school pizza makers it\u2019s really kind of sad and here\u2019s why: You could tell that neither of these guys had any sense of pride in what they sell. For them pizza was just a product. Next year they may be selling shoes.<\/p>\n
So here is the thing: before we were business men, or restaurateurs, or executives, or chefs, or celebrities we called ourselves Pie Men.<\/em> I don\u2019t mean that to be sexist, there just weren\u2019t many women making pizzas in the old days. We were Pie Men<\/em> and we earned the right to be a part of that group by standing in front of a hot oven for 14 hours a day, 6 days a week, year after year. We told the world who we were by staying true to the craft that was gifted to us by those who came before. Everything that a Pie Man wanted to say was communicated through the pie. That\u2019s why every classic pizzeria is named after the founding Pie Man. In a famous interview, Genarro Lombardi patted his coal fired oven and stated, \u201cThis is what made me a man.\u201d \u00a0No one had a certificate, no one had won any medals, we didn\u2019t insist on being called \u201cChef\u201d or any other title. In fact no self respecting Pie Man would be caught dead wearing a chefs coat. \u00a0Joe Timpone the great Pie Man at Santarpios in Boston famously wore a brown paper bag for a hat while he tended the oven in an undershirt. Most Pie Men probably didn\u2019t own a pair of shoes that weren\u2019t caked with flour.<\/p>\n To have your peers refer to you as a \u201cgood Pie Man\u201d was the ultimate compliment. Sure we were competitors, but there was a code of honor that can only be understood by people who are connected through a common struggle. To become a Pie Man was hard work, forged through a long and sometimes painful apprenticeship. Words like \u201cartisan\u201d \u201cauthentic\u201d \u201ccertified\u201d or the collection of high sounding initials that we now attach to products and methods would mean nothing to a Pie Man. For a Pie Man only two things were important, does it taste good and am I proud of it? \u00a0The two chain guys discussing their \u201cOriginal Recipe\u201d dough that was probably created by a focus group in a lab would most likely be thrown onto the street if they ventured into Totonno\u2019s 50 years ago.<\/p>\n So are there any Pie Men left out there? Yes, and some great Pie Women too. You can find them if you search hard enough. I promise you, it\u2019s worth the effort. \u00a0Al Santillo, in Elizabeth New Jersey, is a Pie Man; so is Lou Abatte in New Haven. These kind of people usually live near or above their pizzeria. They\u2019re covered in flour. They have old burn stripes on their arms. They look very tired, but you will see something else too\u2026Pride.<\/p>\n \u00a0<\/p>\n \u00a0<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"