Another Pizza the Puzzle

You're traveling through another dimension, a dimension of many pizzerias all claiming to be the original and famous Ray's. A journey into a wondrous city of entrepreneurs who have no imagination. That's the red font up ahead and the aroma of cheesy grease - your next stop, the (Pizza) Pie-light Zone!

For those few of you who have never been to New York (or don't leave their apartments in Staten Island), Ray's has been the go-to New York slice joint since the late 1970's. Unless you're a strict vegan or the owner of the Sbarro company, odds are you've ordered a regular slice from at least one of the many Ray's locations. And the running joke is that they all claim to be the Original Famous Ray's.

So which of the dozens of locations is the original original Ray's? How did they manage to sprout up in every neighborhood of NYC? And who is this Ray guy anyway?

I'm not a detective, but I did a little snooping (thank you World Wide Web) and this is one mystery that may never get solved. There is an ongoing debate as to which of the famous Ray's is actually the original. But the consensus seems to be that the oldest documented Ray's pizzeria still stands in Little Italy. It was opened by Ralph Cuomo in 1959. And as far as I can gather, no Ray actually exists (or at least not in conjunction with this franchise - apologies to Mr. Charles, Mr. Liotta, and Mr. Bradbury)

But then in the 70's, along came the Famous Ray's Pizza in Greenwich Village. And many people say this is the Ray's that started the whole slice phenomenon of the 70's, 80's and today (that sounds like a commercial for a lite FM radio station).

The name was trademarked by three owners of separate Ray's in the 1990's and now if anybody opens a pizzeria calling themselves Ray's, these guys get a cut. So somehow it seems they are now all related. What that means exactly I don't know, but I'm not about to go to every Ray's in the city to see if one is better than the other (my stomach hurts just contemplating that idea).

Over the years, I've been to many Ray's on a quick lunch break or after a late night drinking binge. I could never really tell the difference and so I'm going to lump them together as many NY-ers do and give them one overall rating.

The Prince Street store (Ralph Cuomo's 1959 location) has a completely different feel inside than the other Ray's. It's a bit more old-fashioned and rustic and welcoming.

I ordered a plain slice, which the cashier cut from the pie that had been sitting out for God knows how long and threw in the gas oven. This is the way most slice joints work in this city. During my pizza journey, I've been spoiled by pies made to order by a chef or a line cook. But that's not the old school NY way.

Ray's pizza is dirty, messy, and cheap. It's everything people come to expect from NY slices. I was actually pleasantly surprised by my first bite. I got lost in the greasiness of the cheese and the butteriness of the crust. But then I came to my senses...

After a few more bites, I felt a little heavy so I let the grease drip down onto my plate. I usually sop up the grease right away with a napkin but figured I needed to take it all in to get a fair assessment.

This pizza is adequate for a NY slice. The ingredients aren't terribly fresh (that seems to be a new craze) and nothing really stands out here except for the cheese and the grease. There's no balance of flavors or interest in cheese/tomato proportion. But do many people care? Probably not. Although for some reason, many people care which is the original Ray's. And just as that mystery will never be solved, why people love this greasy mess will continue to be an enigma.

Is Ray's pizza the best in NY? It's good for what many people desire, but it's not quality pizza and makes NY pizza seem dirty and cheap. There are many places out there that do better NY style pizza without all the calories and heartburn. But if you want that pain and artery clogging and (I reluctantly admit) tastiness, then Ray's deserves at least a 6 out of 10.

In the Beginning...

It’s weird to feel like you’re a tourist in your own city. However, for me, the experience is oddly exciting because those of us who live here tend to take the city for granted. I’ve always been one of the very few New Yorkers who actually enjoy walking through Times Square either right before Broadway shows begin or right after they end. There’s such a buzz in the air and everybody is exciting to be going to a show on BROAD-way! I feel like I’m on vacation when I go to the theater district. Now if only I could end the evening relaxing in one of those fancy hotels and watching their free HBO.

Lombardi’s is naturally a big tourist destination. It was the first pizzeria in the country. Genaro Lombardi brought his tomato pies to Little Italy in 1905 and the rest is history. The restaurant has since moved to a new location a block away and is now owned by a family friend of the Lombardi clan. But it still holds claim to the birthplace of American pizza. And I knew full well what I was getting myself into when I decided to go for lunch on a crisp chilly Saturday shortly after noon.

I was pleasantly surprised how quickly the waiting list moved. It took only about 10 or 15 minutes for them to call my name. We were led through one room after another, passing families and couples enjoying pizza. The enormity of this maze-like restaurant was a little surreal. One false turn and you’d end up in the kitchen.

The restaurant has undergone a major expansion (a whole new bar and front area) in the last few years, which is good because it means they have more space to turn their tables quicker (which means a shorter wait for us), but could be bad because each pizza can’t get quite get the same attention as before. We all know that when companies grow, quality often suffers in the process.

Now this was my first ever visit to Lombardi’s so I can’t say how or if the quality has changed, but I can confidently say that they still have fantastic pizza. We ordered the original, which is your traditional margherita and we had to try their famous (and quite expensive) clam pie, which has no tomato sauce, but plenty of olive oil, cheese, garlic, and freshly shucked clams.

I started with the margherita, which noticeably had more tomato than anything else. It’s clear that this pizza (and therefore all pizza) is a direct descendant of what was originally called a tomato pie. There were nicely distributed perfectly melted globs of fresh mozzarella and some garnishes of fresh basil.

The crust was nicely charred, although some slices were crispier than others, and had a slight smoky flavor. The abundant tomato sauce was fresh and well-seasoned with just a hint of sweetness. I was a bit disappointed that there wasn’t a more generous serving of basil, but the tomato sauce was so perfectly seasoned that it really wasn’t necessary aside from aesthetics.

The clam pie (which somehow sounds dirty) was worth the $26.95 spent on the 14 inches. The pie was crowded with fresh clams (I was pleasantly surprised that these didn’t come from a can) and garnished with a lemon. The clams were chewy and delicious and all the flavors came together like an Italian masterpiece. This could have been incredibly heavy and decadent since it features all the ingredients for a nice linguini white sauce. But it was really just right. And I was amazed that the light thin crust held up the weight of those beautiful bivalves.

As we left the restaurant (with our to go boxes in tow), I really felt like I was one of the few locals. Everybody was snapping photos of celebrities on the walls and of the beautiful thin crust pizzas. Only tourists do that. How embarrassing! Oh, by the way, check out this picture I took of the famous coal-oven at Lombardi’s. Isn’t that great?

Is Lombardi’s the best pizza in the city? It’s certainly the oldest and paved the way for future coal-oven pies. I’m excited to report the pizza still stands up and impresses with all its balanced flavors and perfect textures. It’s definitely one of the best, and my rating of 9 out of 10, makes it a safe recommendation for visiting tourists and locals alike.