In my time I have tried many a parlor and found that even if no pizza is truly bad there are some which are certainly better than others, you have your Domino’s, your Papa Johns, your Pizza huts, the many chains that provide a consistent, if underwhelming product on a mass scale. These pizzas represent what I would consider “C” grade pizza, adequate in that they are edible and to some degree enjoyable but certainly they do not stand out in the pantheon of Parmesan. The myriad of frozen foodstuffs available in your grocer’s freezer tend to occupy the “D” range of the scale, if you search enough you may find one or two that breaks out of the pack and at an affordable price with an ease of use with enough drink in your system one can actually look forward to eating it. That is not the norm however and in the opinion of this author we’ll all be better off not mentioning them further.
Thus we come to the “B” range, probably the widest ranging category for it encompasses the great wealth of pizza shops one can find in any American neighborhood. These are the places with family names on them, ones which pop up in ones or twos, ones that have a long running but good natured feud with another pizza shop in the same area. If a franchise is the ‘bread and butter’ of pizza, then these shops represent the ‘steak and potatoes’, each in and of themselves ranging from fair to exceptional but wholly satisfying and bestowing upon the diner a very real satisfaction with what is in front of them. That moment when you take your first bite and say to yourself ‘I have made a good decision’.
A good “B” range shop looks largely unchanged since the 1980’s, proudly displaying their lack of upgrades as if to boast that they’ve been doing things right for decades, that the original recipe is the only one they need and that the worst business decision possible is trying to improve on success. They understand what anyone who truly meditates on the qualities of a pizza comes to know, that a good pizza is not defined by enormous size, loads of toppings, or sides of garlic bread. A good pizza is focused on the synthesis of its most basic elements; Crust, Sauce, and Cheese. One needs only to make these three main pillars strong and your house of pies will stand the test of time.
In Galway, and as far as I know the island as a whole, the scale is a bit off, for by and large the only pizza you can find comes either from a freezer or a take away shop. By this point the Irish are not so isolated as to be afraid or standoffish towards this Italian invasion, but by whatever missed connection the people here do not take their pizzas-let alone Calzones or Stromboli- as seriously as I do. Your average pizza is stuck firmly in the ‘C’ category and, not to be insulting of the locals, they simply don’t know or care that this is the case. There was in this city one shining example of a pizza done with care and crafted with that steady hand that does not waver in the face of convenience, Pizza Cabin sits on the far end of town, tucked discreetly into a wall amidst the clubs and pubs of the town’s party district. They do not deliver and they do not serve anything but reliable and uniform quality pizzas which come in two sizes and offer you the choice of just cheese or with toppings, a mix of onion, mushroom and green pepper which cannot be altered in any way.
They were, for me, a faint beacon of hope, though far flung and inconvenient there was always the possibility that this yank could get himself a proper slice in a foreign land and for the length of one meal, not feel so out of place in his appetites. Enter, The Dough Bros. My wife had been telling me about them for a month or more impressed by a presentation they gave at a small business conference she’d excitedly told me their set up; Two brothers and one friend selling made to order pizzas out of a food truck at the local market on weekends. They intrigued me from the outset because their scheme was bold, it was unprecedented, it was wholly unlike an idea which I would expect from the Irish and furthermore, it stunk of the kind of madness that only the confidant and capable are willing to aim for.
And so it went on for a few weekends, I thought about heading to town and seeing if they lived up to the expectation but again and again finding reasons not to go, be it the rain or chores or just general laziness. Finally, last Saturday I walked in to do errands armed with a coupon for a free 10” pizza and a growing hunger in the depths of my gut. I wrapped up my business and walked through the busy market, past the felafel stand, the creperie, the guy who fries doughnuts one at a time, but didn’t see the Dough Bros anywhere and figured they were busy in another town or at a private function as they do. Coming back into the heart of town, however, I spotted a new façade it was simple, striking, straight to the point, green and white with a sign reading The Dough Bros above the entrance.
Stepping inside it was much the same, a Spartan seating area composed of bare wood and simple chalkboards displaying your menu choices, black and white tile floor, green trim on white tile walls, and a small section just off of the cash register where three lads whip together each pizza with rhythmic efficiency. A slot in the back wall reveals the all critical oven, logs glowing at the back, where a constant stream of cheesy bubbling creations enter and are retrieved minutes later. Still, the shop doesn’t feel cheap or shoddy, it could benefit from 50 euro’s worth of bits from Woodies and a few touches of paint but as it stands there a charming ‘make do and mend’ attitude to the décor that fits with the start-up idea.
I order the daily special “Marioghertia” and take a moment to check on the other patrons, it’s the end of the Arts Festival and almost every seat is occupied, the diners are mixed in age and background, everyone seems comfortable and a low pressure atmosphere is maintained. Among the fare on offer are a Tandori pizza with lemon chicken and herbs, a Pepperoni and Jalapeño, a take on the Cesar salad which is topped with rocket and croutons, and a couple of classic staples like the Marghertia and Neapolitan. Some of the combinations are daring and tending towards the “curry chips” area of the scale, but seeing them come out one after another it’s clear that these are balanced and topped with a careful consideration given to each element. Clearly there was forethought put into their invention and it’s easy to imagine many tasty nights spent in the test kitchen getting the portions just right.
My pizza comes up and I got a bottle of cider to go along with it, keep in mind this isn’t a glass of Bulmers but a proper 500ml of craft cider, which is available alongside bottles of Galway hooker and other local brews and bottles of Peroni and Sol with plenty of sodas to round out your selection. I decide to eat in their upstairs section and find a converted beer garden, tent covered with a fair shake of sunlight coming in from the open wall. It’s one of those charming spaces you couldn’t know existed as its sandwiched between the surrounding buildings, and while it is again, simple and a bit roughshod, it’s an easy place to settle in and enjoy a nice meal while a fine mix of modern and classic tunes are piped in from what I will assume is an employee’s Ipod.
Now all of this doesn’t amount to much if the product which I have come for, the sought after pizza is substandard. Mine is a simple affair because I want to judge their workmanship without distraction by the bite of an olive or the sweetness of a corn salad, adorned with sprigs of Thai basil and two types of succulent tomato it is the essence of a pizza amplified by one degree. The Dough Bros pride themselves on their crust, as it is advertised to only contain real 00 flour, water, salt, and yeast, no oils and no fats, and proofed for three days in the refrigerator before baking. That may not translate for everyone reading this but in the shorthand of the Pisano elite, they got it right. It is crunchy, and chewy, and sweet, and satisfying in all of the right ways, it holds up well but does not overwhelm, it provides without stuffing you to the point of lethargy. Their crust is just the right vehicle for a solid sauce-not overly sugar laden or watery- and the well spoken mozzarella as a cherry on top.
It is an altogether pleasant experience and dare I say a revelation to eat something created with this much care and attention. The art of a good pizza is in its balance, between what a trio-formaggio lacks and a penta formaggio overdoes is the perfect blend of a quattro formaggio, it’s understanding that a sausage pizza is not improved by the addition of pepperoni, ground beef, Canadian bacon, ham and barbecued chicken, and an imbalance in the trinity cannot be fixed by a side of chips. I finished my plate and relaxed with a good book while finishing my pint, I even reflected on how nice it was to be asked while I was eating if everything was alright, a custom which seems often to be missing from the Irish hospitality industry.
And so the question must arise, where do the Dough Bros rank on the great scale of pizza supremacy? I did not mention before the “A” range of pizzas, for perhaps that is a place of rarefied air occupied only by theoretical pizzas, a condition that is possible only under exact circumstances which cannot ever be replicated in the lab. Maybe that “A” grade only came from your grandmother’s kitchen, or from that one café in Rome which you couldn’t pronounce and will never find again in a million years. It is the pizza you share with your biggest crush across a linoleum table over a deep conversation.
The Dough Bros are, in my humble and completely objective opinion, quite high “B” grade, and now share a spot in my esteem with the venerable Pizza Cabin. I can’t quite say if one is better than the other, that question may become the ‘New York style’ vs. ‘Chicago style’ of western Ireland and hopefully the Dough Bros will be around for years to come so that future generations of college students and affable drunks can debate it at length. With the energy and ingenuity of youth behind them I hope the lads will go far and keep the promise posted in chalk inside of their ten week pop up restaurant experiment to stick around if it works out.
No comments:
Post a Comment