“Dad, it is the best pizza I have ever eaten.”
Those are some fighting words, but to be fair, my eldest daughter has lived in NYC for five years. I do trust her judgement when it comes to restaurants; the NBA not so much.
In New York City there are a number of illustrious restaurants that serve great pizza and that feature on the “best of” lists.
Lucali, L‘Industrie, Robertas and Di Fara in Brooklyn all have their dedicated followers.
In Manhattan, Scarrs on the Lower East Side and Rubirosa in Soho receive many plaudits, whilst Lombardis in Little Italy has been serving pizza to its faithful flock since 1905. Pizza restaurants in this city are talked about with the reverence normally reserved for cathedrals, and each parishioner has their preferred pie.
We have booked a 5.30 pm table at Razza in Jersey City. I know that Jersey City is technically not in New York but given that it is a 15-minute subway ride from the World Trade Centre, I have deemed that from a geographical perspective Razza can be included in the best pizza conversation. Although I actually find the whole “best of” lists a bit reductive. I understand that people will always want to know where to find the great restaurants and the hidden gems, but publications claiming that an establishment is definitively “the best”, is just derisive click bait to sell more mineral water, magazines or car tyres. They are feeble checklists that wealthy people can name drop to each other at insipid dinner parties.
There are over 2000 pizzerias in the state of New Jersey, so the question is. Why would it need one more?
Razza was opened in 2012 by Dan Richer a New Jersey native and from the outset he had a clear vision of what he wanted to achieve. Part of his mission was to channel the Italian ideology of sourcing the very best local ingredients. To this end, he has built strong relationships with local growers, freshly milled flour is sourced from Clifton, New Jersey, handmade fresh mozzarella from Jersey Girl Cheese in Branchville and mushrooms are supplied by Dan Lipow from the Foraged Feast. Mr Richer sees his pizza craft as a perennial work in progress, and his team are invested in this constant evolution. Every year Richer and his team engage in yearly blind tasting of numerous canned tomato brands, new flours are trialled, and different doughs are experimented with in order to give his customers the best pizza he can.
The restaurant is centrally located in Jersey City in what was originally the lobby of an old theatre. The entrance has high ceilings and is painted black, there are dark wooden shelves in the corners in which to wait with a drink in hand, it has a sombre, subdued vibe. The walls are a motley mess of spilt green and orange paint from decades beforehand, deliberately left untouched as an art homage to the building's history. The space has two levels, and the inky industrial feel extends pass the small bar up to the open kitchen which has a glowing metal domed pizza oven in each corner. We turn right past the wood stacks and the frenetic pass and descend two stairs to an additional space which was added two years ago. This section has long blonde wooden bar, loaves of bread and bottles of spirits sit on wooden racks on the back wall. A grey banquette snakes around the exposed brick mortar walls that are painted white, and old exposed timber frames are the last remnants of the previous tenant. Another kitchen, with multiple deck ovens hums with bread baking activity in the far corner. We start with the sliced sourdough that possesses a dark crust which is chewy, slightly acidic and satisfying.
I don’t know of many other restaurants where you can order the bread and a “tasting” of three different handmade cultured butters. I have read an article in which Richer states that the menu item he is most proud of is the bread and butter. Which is like asking a parent, “who is your favourite child?”
As a prelude to our pizzas, we share the modestly titled, “Apple Salad”. What arrives looks like a perfect Christmas wreath on a plate. A crescent of entwined glossy radicchio and green oak leaves are dotted with caramelised walnuts, house smoked ricotta, and apple two ways, raw apple slices and wedges of poached apple. The salad is dressed expertly with an apple cider vinaigrette, every blissful mouthful a reminder of how simple things can be the most enjoyable.
The other dish is emblematic of what distinguishes Razza’s greatness. That dish is the meatballs with ricotta. Cynics may question why you would bother ordering meatballs at all! To that, I say not all meatballs are born equal, and the ones served at Razza will prove my point your Honour. Razza uses 50 % pork, mixed with a lot of their left-over bread that is soaked in the buttermilk which is a by-product of the three cultured butters you just sampled with your homemade sourdough. This is consequential cookery commitment. The end result is six meaty spheres as soft as a baby’s earlobe, bathed in a pool of bubbling tomato sauce with a splodge of ricotta in the centre. They are moist and savoury, and the aromatic sauce elevates the humble dish to greatness. The first three dishes are so mind blowing that I had almost neglected what I was here for, the forgotten child, the pizza!
The hush of anticipation is broken as the Jesus Juice is poured and Margherita and Pepperoni pizzas are administered with the veneration of a sacrament service. The crust is puffy on the edges and blotched with dark patches from the wood oven. The pizza crust is fragrant from a long fermentation, it is airy, plush, yet crisp. It defies logic that I can pick up slice and yet it retains its structural integrity. There is no droop, yet it still has texture and some elasticity.
The small discs of pepperoni are curled on the edges, the waft of fennel seed perfumes the cheese, and the tomato sauce is a majestic balance of sweetness and acidity. The Margherita pizza is fragrant with the aroma of fresh basil leaves and is equally delicious. The excellence of the food continues into dessert, and we share a panna cotta with a salted caramel scented with rosemary. The texture is velvety smooth, the spoon glides up through glass jar to catch a trickle of caramel and a fleck of sea salt that balances any possibility of cloyingness.
Is this pizza in New Jersey the best pizza in New York?
I actually have no idea if it is.
What I can tell you is that Razza is a terrific restaurant that has caring, generous service offering food that is executed with finesse and a culinary sensibility that many other celebrated restaurants can only dream of.
Oh, and they also serve excellent pizza.
Razza Pizza Artigianale
https://razzanj.com/