Pizzeria Bianco

Every man eventually finds himself at a crossroads in life when he's forced to answer tough questions, the answers for which may forever alter his future: Whom should I marry? Where should I go to law school? Where should I go after law school? Should I write Santa that threatening letter to try to force him to give me the presents I really want this year?

I faced one such crossroads this weekend: Should I spend two hours of a Friday afternoon in late May waiting in the hot Phoenix sun for what many claim is the best pizza in the country?


A few weeks ago I ran across an article on MSN purporting to list the best pizza places in the United States. Pizzeria Bianco, in downtown Phoenix, made the list. When I learned a few days later that some of my siblings planned to spend a weekend in Phoenix catching a few baseball games, it didn't take long to make the connection. The next thing I knew I had invited myself to tag along and was dropping not-so-subtle hints on where I thought we should eat.


Yet there were some hurdles. Pizzeria Bianco only takes reservations for parties of 6-10, and even then, only one reservation per day. The online local reviews further made it clear that the place is tiny, and you have to wait at least an hour and a half ahead of opening [it's open Tues-Sat 5-10 p.m.] to have much hope of getting in. I wasn't sure my brothers would be up for the wait.


They were (and they didn't even know I was paying yet).


Last Friday we set about heading to Pizzeria Bianco at 2:30 p.m. We found the place and parked nearby, finding our place in line just after 3 p.m. By the time we got there, we were fourth in line. Mercifully, there was at least a canopy set up to shield us from the sun. Those ahead of us in line assured us that the pizza would be worth the wait.

[3:21 p.m.]

As we got closer to 5 p.m., the line grew.

[4:15 p.m.]

And grew.

[4:15 p.m. – The other part of the line]

And grew.

[5:02 p.m. – Now That's a Man in a Confident Mustache!]

And grew.

The place opened just after 5 p.m., and, being fourth in line, we were a few of the fortunate ones who got in at opening. [There were people who had been waiting well over an hour that had to content themselves with placing their names on a waiting list.]

Once we were seated, the excitement built up over the course of that two-hour wait had us giddy. The restaurant itself was quaint, with a single wood-fired oven, and apparently only one person, Chris Bianco himself, actually baking the pizzas.

The menu at Pizzeria Bianco is simple.* There are six pizza offerings:

Pizza
MARGHERITA - Tomato Sauce, Fresh Mozzarella, Basil
MARINARA - Tomato Sauce, Oregano, Garlic (No Cheese)
ROSA - Red Onion, Parmigiano Reggiano, Rosemary, AZ Pistachios
SONNY BOY - Tomato Sauce, Fresh Mozzarella, Salami, Gaeta Olives
BIANCOVERDE - Fresh Mozzarella, Parmigiano Reggiano, Ricotta, Arugula
WISEGUY - Wood Roasted Onion, House Smoked Mozzarella, Fennel Sausage

When our waiter came by to take drink orders, I felt a bit sheepish when we all ordered waters – almost as though we were letting the waiter down.

I was also a little sheepish because of the order we were about to place, since there were so many hungry people and only one guy cooking the pizzas. Not sure when, if ever, we'd be back for a second round of sampling, when the waiter came back to take our orders, I said, making every effort not to flinch: "We'll have one of each [of the pizzas], except for the Marinara. Oh, and we'll have two of the Pizza Margherita."

I waited for him to bristle at the size of the order, but he didn't bat an eye.

Perhaps because we didn't order any appetizers or salads, our pizzas were first out of the oven. They looked beautiful.

When he set the pizzas before us, the waiter's only instructions were: "Eat the Rosa and the Bianco Verde first. After that, eat the rest."

[Bianco Verde]

The Bianco Verde was the first pizza I tried, and probably my favorite. I would not say that it, or any of the pizzas for that matter, exactly "melted in my mouth", but it was really, really good. I loved the way the cheese almost seemed to melt into the crust (rather than just on it), and the Arugula was a great touch.

[Rosa]

If the Bianco Verde wasn't my favorite, then the Rosa certainly was. The Parmigiano Reggiano – and maybe the red onions too -- gave this pizza a playful tang. The pistachios were fun, the pizza was too hot for me to discern much flavor from them.

[Margherita]

I liked the Margherita, but I wasn't blown away by it. Maybe my memories of the pizza Margherita at Grimaldi's have expanded over the years, but on the first slice, this pizza tasted comparatively ordinary. When I went back to it later for a second slice, it tasted much better than the first. It's left me wanting to try the Grimaldi's version again and compare.

[Wiseguy]

The Wiseguy was my least favorite of the five. Any subtleties in the fennel sausage or the house smoked mozzarella were lost on me. It was good pizza, but I wouldn't get it again when offered the choice of any of the other five. Ironically, this is the pizza the MSN article suggests you start with.

[Sonny Boy]

The salami on the Sonny Boy was crispier than your standard pepperoni. The Gaeta olives were nice. This was a good pizza, though not nearly as memorable as the Bianco Verde and the Rosa, or even the Margherita the 2^nd time around.

Having now visited Pizzeria Bianco and tasted all it has to offer, two questions that need answering. I can only really speak to one.

1.  Is it the best pizza in the country?

 

I don't know. It might be. It's the best I've had (at least until I taste Grimaldi's Margherita again).

2.  Is it worth the two hour wait?

 

Definitely at least once. Probably twice. It's the kind of place I'd offer to take out-of-town guests if I lived in the Phoenix area. What was interesting was how many regulars I was in line with – people who seem to routinely wait the two hours to get their slice(s) of heaven. The bell hop and waiters greeted them warmly by their first names and they caught up with each other on the highlights of the past few weeks. I'm not sure I could be one of those people. I'm the guy who is usually contented with Little Caesar's (whose $5 large pepperoni are always "Hot and Ready"), and blissfully happy with a $10 Costco combo pizza. When it comes down to it, it would have to be a rare or special occasion indeed that, on any given night, would have me saying "No" to a $10 Costco pizza that I could have in the next 15 minutes, to instead have the promise of Pizzeria Bianco if only I'm willing to wait out the next two hours in the hot Phoenix sun.

* I'm sure it's not been lost on many of you that menu simplicity often seems to be one of the first signs of great food (besides, of course, having to wait outside for two hours before opening just to get a seat). The confidence manifest in such simplicity speaks volumes.

A Long December

Nearly six months ago now as I set about mapping my New Year's Resolutions, I decided to be bold: Though I'd managed only a handful of postings in 2009, I resolved to blog weekly here in the coming year.

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Now here we are nearing June, and I haven't got a word or a picture to my name.

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Back when I started this blog in 2005, there was no Facebook (at least that I was aware of) that offered the chance for pithy quips to instantly update my connected friends on all of my comings and goings. Blogging itself was still relatively novel (though en vogue enough that I felt some of the "you don't want to make it look like you're following the crowd even though you are" internal resistance). As I've noted before, I started this blog then because I wanted to connect better with family and friends, and because I wanted the challenge of exposing some of my thoughts and writings in a public, somewhat permanent, medium. Facebook seems to satisfy most of the former now, though, and lately I've had so much less energy or interest in the latter.

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Additionally, the fact that my posts have grown more sparse in recent years seems to be indicative of a few things. For one, I've felt like I've been running out of material. After all, there's only so much traction one can get out of a Peanut M&M, sugar cookie, Breyer's ice cream, Oreo cookie, donut, and half-priced holiday candy fetish. There seems to be less need, too, for simply posting pictures and relating the family's most recent silliness. Maybe not, though.

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For those thoughts and ideas that have stretched beyond the trivial or self-depricating, I've also noticed growing increasingly more cautious about sharing them in this setting.

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Maybe it's not just this setting, though. Maybe those thoughts and ideas I might have otherwise been inclined to share over the years have themselves become more cautious. And there isn't much traction or material in a cautious approach to the world, either.

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Maybe experience has just made me more tentative.

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Whatever the case may be, I'm not about to abandon this blog. I am, after all, just getting around to starting my New Year's Resolutions. I will be more diligent here, and we'll see where that leads. Whether that diligence gives way to more devoted thoughts on donuts, cinnamon rolls, and agonizing weight gain, or whether perhaps it leads something more dangerous, who can tell? I can assure you, however, that it will give way to something more than the silence of these past six months.