Every year around this time, the Stamford Pizza Tour wakes from its slumber to give you its take on a few new pizzerias in our fair City that Works. Of course, this year (technically last year) will be no different. We give you, a mere two months after its doors opened, La Bellezza Pizza Restaurant.

Allow us to take you back to a kinder, gentler time: a few weeks ago, when the holiday spirit still carried some weight, strangers spouted “Merry Christmas” at passers-by, and the lighting in a certain pizzeria made all of our pictures completely unusable, save for this next shot of an elaborate cave manger scene outside the front door.

Establishment. With deep roots in the New York pizza scene, La Bellezza takes its act from the streets of Manhattan, the Bronx, and Brooklyn (home of some of the best pies on the face of the earth) to its new location on Atlantic Street in Stamford. La Bellezza struck us as a charming little place with a handful of tables, a welcoming staff, and rich, wooden furniture that would make Ron Burgundy blush.

Between the brick, the chalkboard menu, and the bright, open, counter service kitchen, this was as New York a pizzeria as they come—save for the whole “being in Connecticut” thing. The service was prompt, courteous, and extra attentive being as we were the only party in the restaurant at the time. That said, their menu was complete with what one would expect of a pizzeria and then some, including dinners, sandwiches, a surprising wine selection, and of course, pizza.

Pizza. As usual, our two pizzas were a plain cheese, and one with sausage. The pies came to the table steaming hot and were doled out by the slice to each undercover judge by our waiter, fully unaware that he was about to pose his pie in one of the less flattering food shots we’ve ever published.

Abysmal washout and color temperatures aside, this was actually a pretty good pie. The pizza’s thin crust held up reasonably well to a healthy amount of creamy, stringy cheese with its dense, yeasty bite; at the end of the day it wasn’t all that easy to keep this one from slip sliding away, though. The quality and quantity of La Bellezza’s cheese—while sacrificing something by way of texture—kept this pizza steaming hot until we had demolished the whole thing (we’ll be the first to tell you that there’s nothing more taxing than trying to finish a pizza that’s devolved into a gob of cooled cheese).

Cheese points notwithstanding, the sauce didn’t blow us away. Its subtleties were a bit too subtle, and there was really nothing there—good or bad—to go by. Fortunately, both their topping selection and specialty pizza offerings were quite good, making up for lost ground on La Bellezza’s shortcomings.

Bottom line. La Bellezza is a friendly, personable place to grab a pretty decent pie in an unfortunate area that doesn’t get a ton of foot traffic; welcome these guys to town, they’ll be happy to serve you.

Establishment: 21/30
Pizza: 20/30
Hits the Spot: 7.8/10 
Large cheese: $12.00

You’ll get a good pizza at Michelina’s before this blog ever posts anything that even remotely resembles a political statement, but we couldn’t pass this one up.

For those living under a rock (or those too preoccupied with actual news), there’s a new pizza in town and it’s rattling some cages. At the helm of Rico’s kitchen are two former employees of Stamford’s iconic dive, Colony Grill, and they’ve (allegedly) brought the pizza with them. Normally, we like to give new places time to settle in so that the inconsistencies, growing pains, and stupid waits normally associated with new places have a chance to die down. This time, Stamford’s newest rivalry didn’t afford us that luxury.

Establishment. Plainly put, Rico’s is a takeout/delivery joint with a few tables in it. At best, they’re a counter service pizzeria with a 45 minute wait (partially due to the buzz surrounding the “illegal” use of Colony’s recipes, partially due to the curiosity that comes with having a new pizza in town to try). We tried to call ahead four or five times to place our order before we got there but the phones kicked us straight to voicemail despite them being manned by at least two people at any given time. Nonetheless, were were taken care of by a friendly staff without having to look at creepy painted wood cutouts while delivery orders went flying out the door in the interim. While we’re talking about differences between this place and another place, it certainly bears mentioning that Rico’s menu includes calzones, empanadas, wedges, wraps, and salad offerings in addition to the contentious little pizzas that brought us there.

Pizza. The minute these pizzas hit the table, we were thinking the same thing that you are looking at these pictures, “Boy, that pie looks familiar…” Upon further investigation, it also tastes familiar. Rico’s crust is super thin with crispy edges, a hearty crunch, and a surprisingly chewy bite that you wouldn’t expect from a cracker-thin pie (unless, of course, you’ve had some exposure to pizzas like this…) that contributes chiefly to the overall flavor. Rico’s sauce and cheese meld together in an intricate lace that yields a big texture and a not-so-special flavor. While adding a stringy, satisfying snap, the cheese seems like an afterthought with its flavor. Moreover, the sauce is noticeably underseasoned and carries an unnatural sweetness beyond what we’d naturally expect from tomatoes. Couple that with the breakneck speed at which the pizza cools and you have a recipe for a pie that doesn’t hold up very well after it’s been out of the oven for 10-15 minutes.

At it’s heart, Rico’s Pizza is about the toppings. With small, cookie-sized pizzas (okay, admittedly a big cookie), it naturally follows that they become customized to the individual with ingredients that fill the gaps left open by the lackluster sauce and cheese elements. We ordered a hot oil and stingers (hot peppers) pie and one with sausage. The hot oil was bold, spicy, and most importantly, used in moderation to complement the peppers for a considerably less greasy texture than an oil topping would lead you to think (in fact, all of the pizzas were considerably less greasy). Additionally, the sausage added much needed heartiness and saltiness to the pie that it was generously strewn across. Rico’s enters the Stamford pizza scene as a solid competitor to other thin crust bar pies, with subtle improvements that set it apart, albeit slightly.

Bottom line. Rico’s is the quintessential bar pie without the bar. If you’re looking for a good, traditional pizza, there are other places to go, but if you’ve got a Colony addiction, Rico’s is a viable substitute.

Establishment: 16/30
Pizza: 21/30
Hits the Spot: 7/10 
Large cheese: $8.50 (13")

It’s come to our attention that there’s a new pizzeria in town. While we’ve known about Rico’s Pizza for some time now, we were unaware of the striking similarities their pies bear to a certain Stamford staple.

We’ve been dropping bombs on Colony’s cult-like following from day one, making our opinions known, but their following stands a new test in a supposedly noteworthy tastealike minus all of the dated idiosyncrasies that, for better or worse, define the aforementioned dive. We did plan on waiting a few months give Rico’s a once over, but alas, duty calls. Stay tuned for a comprehensive review of the city’s latest copycat.

Located on the dense pizzeria stronghold of Stamford’s Broad Street is Morelli Pizza Café. Around the corner from Remo’s and a few doors down from the to-be-reviewed ZAZA Italian Gastrobar, Morelli faces stiff competition from the get-go as a uniquely themed newcomer with deep Stamford roots.

Establishment. Claiming a 30 year influence on Stamford’s pizza scene, Morelli Pizza Café exists as the reborn phoenix of the defunct Café Morelli that was once located in the purportedly cursed 269 Bedford property down the street. Creative renaming aside, the new pizzeria presents a smaller, more counter service-oriented atmosphere than the original. Resembling a clean, modernized bakery/café complete with trendy wall lettering straight out of Restaurant:Impossible, Morelli’s comes across as a place to grab a slice while passing by—not necessarily as a destination.

As we’ve mentioned, counter service is Morelli’s MO, and as such, makes the few interactions with the staff all the more important. Having said this, we were totally put off by the lackadaisical “help” we received, the awkward glares that were shot our way through the duration of our meal, and by the ill-fated attempts made to charge us for tap water. Service has a tendency to set the scene.

Pizza. We visited Morelli’s months ago. Literally months. The fact that it’s taken so long to scrap together some semblance of a review for this boring, run-of-the-mill pie should speak for itself. But it doesn’t, so here’s some more words.

In typical Pizza Tour fashion, we ordered a large, half-plain, half-topping measuring stick pizza. The crust was a big, chewy, bready number with no shortage of air bubbles and all the flavor to match. The cheese was slightly less offensive in the flavor department with a short-lived creaminess that became gummy and hard as the once scorching hot pie cooled rapidly, and turned it into a slippery sheet that slid clean off the crust. The high spot (if you could really call it that) was the sauce, which lent the pizza just about all of its flavor. While bold and tangy, this sauce was super heavy and helped make a cumbersome pizza borderline unbearable. It should be no surprise to you at this point to find out that the meatball topping we ordered was likewise devoid of an important attribute that we call “flavor.”

Bottom line. If you’re in the neighborhood, Morelli Pizza Café might be worth a visit for its vast menu of burgers, dogs, quesadillas, and soup, but better pizza and better service is no more than a 3 minute walk away.

Establishment: 15/30
Pizza: 17/30
Hits the Spot: 5.7/10 
Large cheese: $11.00