Located in the heart of Greenwich on fancy pants Greenwich Ave., Pizza Factory is a comfortable eatery amidst couture shops, high-end jewelers, and purveyors of luxury stemware, as well as countless other places where people who are better than us buy things. This restaurant also serves as somewhat of a teen hangout during the week (which pisses off said fancy pantses) and allegedly cranks out good pizzas by the gross. Ideally, pies would all come out on a conveyor belt and be assembled by robots, but it’s not that kind of factory.

Establishment. What struck us first upon entering Pizza Factory is the incredibly eclectic decor, seemingly in spite of the overwhelming stuffiness that usually comes with being on Greenwich Ave. Decked out in antique road signage and promotional tin doodads, this restaurant comes across as a comfortable little nook complete with paneled walls, creaky wooden furniture, and plenty of low-hanging tavern lights. Our server was quick to take our order, extra personable, and very helpful with suggestions, but the food came out slower than usual (which we’d normally attribute to the crowd, but this place was dead).

Being a pizza factory and all, the menu carries but a few non-pizza options ranging from hearty, cheese-filled salads to sandwiches (paninis and traditional wedges) and not a whole lot else. The menu’s crown jewel is, quite unsurprisingly, the litany of pizza options including a huge list of specialty pies (less traditional Mexican, Chicken Burrito, and Hawaiian, for instance), gourmet pies (classic margarita, pesto-having, and other Italian-sounding options), a virtual arsenal of unique, one-off toppings, and the unique (at least around these parts) offering of either deep dish or thin crust.

Pizza. Our pie du jour was Pizza Factory’s CBT, or chicken, bacon, and fresh, sliced tomato in it’s thin crust incarnation.

How about that? Founded on a crispy, pan-style thin crust, this pie had an overwhelmingly chalky, breadstick-like texture with a muted yeasty flavor to match. The crispness was welcome, however, and a stark contrast to the creamy, stringy, subtle presence of the delicious mozzarella provided by our good friends in Wisconsin at Grande cheese. The sauce was underwhelming for the most part and clearly under proportioned but seemed a bit bland when isolated. We wouldn’t be at all surprised if this lackluster profile was intentional as this restaurant doesn’t seem too keen on serving plain pies.

Pizza Factory clearly thrives on its toppings and specialty offerings, and for good reason. Our CBT came with a healthy amount of chicken—breaded, seasoned, thinly sliced cutlet strips, to be specific—as well as plenty of crispy, salty bacon pieces and the fresh tang of sliced tomatoes (which were surprisingly bright and flavorful considering it’s December). This combination was clearly thought out (take notice, everyone who puts every available meat on a pie and calls it “special”) and very complementary to the overall flavor of the pie. That said, the pizza staples that we hold near and dear—cheese, sauce, and crust—were solid, but nothing extraordinary. They act as a vehicle to hold the pizza together, carry specialty toppings into your gullet, and little else.

The bottom line. Pizza Factory is just that, a quirkily decorated establishment that bangs out all sorts of specialty pies,  flavorful ingredients, and unique combinations that act as accessories on a solid, but underwhelming core of a pizza.

Establishment: 16/30
Pizza: 18/30
Hits the Spot: 5.7/10
Large Cheese: $14.49

Located on the Post Road E. Putnam Ave. in Greenwich, CT, Pizza Post has been around forever (or since 1972). Tucked away behind the fluorescent wonderland that is Gofer Ice Cream, this little pizzeria carries a following evidenced by its fiery clientele. In fact, we ran into someone there who readily admitted that her Friday night pizza run was the fourth time she’d ordered from Pizza Post that week and that the pie was nothing shy of the best. Yet, as we do with all blind loyalties, we’re determined to find out if this claim is the real deal or just Colony-grade hooey.

Establishment. Pizza Post is a very tiny dine-in establishment with all of the low-lit, hardcover menu wielding class of a fancy restaurant and about an eighth of the space that its oven really needs to keep from sweating everybody out. In fact, we had to remodel the place a bit—our table was inexplicably jammed right up against the adjacent diners’ backs—just to sit down. Even then, we were pretty uncomfortably situated back-to-back with the restaurant’s diehard patrons who couldn’t bring themselves to order to-go. That said, the wait staff seems to have a very good rapport with these regular customers, unfortunately we can’t say the same for new customers carrying scorecards like ourselves, as we were flat out ignored for a good 10 minutes after sitting ourselves down and service was nothing short of sporadic throughout the rest of the meal. Aside from that battery of unpleasantness, we can say that this undersized eatery was very clean (likely because it can’t take more than 3 minutes to tidy up) and the menu was lengthy with traditional Italian appetizers, dinners, soups, and salads, as well as a selection of traditional wedge-style sandwiches, regionally-named panini specialty sandwiches, and the unspeakably lame offering of what Pizza Post dubs “pastabilities.” Of course, this restaurant also offers an array of traditional and specialty pizzas, offered with both traditional and “extra thick” crust variations as well as a healthy selection of toppings.

Pizza. Our pie of choice for the evening was the “Dante’s Inferno” pie topped with hot cherry peppers, fried chicken, mozzarella, and tomato sauce—for the most part, a pizza with chicken and peppers on it.

The crust was puffy but superbly crisp and dense, achieving an excellent balance of bite and texture with a good yeasty flavor. The sauce, while a bit scarce, was simple but good, combining the slight bitterness and natural sweetness of the tomato with minimal seasoning for a subtle taste that didn’t overpower (or overly impress). The cheese was nothing short of fantastic, with a smooth, silky texture and satisfying snap that complemented its creamy, salty profile very well and had us grabbing for the strings that each piping hot slice left in its wake. Unfortunately, the pie itself was thrown off a bit by the relatively dry edges and unwarranted lack of sauce and cheese across the pizza, making each slice less and less palatable as one nears the inch-wide, cheeseless abyss waiting the each end. Additionally, the ingredients were spattered almost haphazardly across the pie (one slice had no more than a single piece of chicken on it) and added very little to the overall taste. That being said, this was a very good pizza with only but a few deal breaking flaws.

The bottom line. This restaurant’s fervent following is somewhat warranted, as their product is a very good one; however, that unfortunately comes hand-in-hand with lukewarm service and a hotter-than-hell dining room that left us torn on the place as a whole.

Establishment: 18/30
Pizza: 21/30
Hits the Spot: 7.0/10
Large Cheese: $12.25

Norwalk hasn’t really been a friend to the Pizza Tour; it’s given us gross crackery pies, puffy sauce-laden monstrosities, and 70s era garbage, that have made it very difficult to justify coming back into town. According to Jane and Michael Stern of Gourmet Magazine, Letizia’s is the light at the end of the tunnel, boasting three generations of pizza prowess dating back to 1937 that crank out pies that Gourmet mentions in the same breath as New Haven’s big boys. The Sterns also call Colony Grill’s pie “about a foot-and-a-half in diameter” and “excellent,” so we’re out to see if they really know what the hell they’re talking about with all of the Letizia’s gushing.

Establishment. Letizia’s is pretty devoid of bells and whistles, with an interior consisting of no more than a few small tables, a counter, and some Snapple coolers for a bare bones, purely utilitarian look helped along by the flour footprint-kissed industrial carpeting. Still, plastered along the walls are plenty of horn-tooting newspaper articles and awards that set the bar pretty high for a restaurant with such a clear following while making the establishment feel less like a stark white hospital. Service was as one would expect of a counter-serve establishment (read: quick, terse), albeit with a bit more tact and friendliness than we’ve come across even compared to some sit-down locales. Evidenced by the standard issue map of Italy on the wall, Letizia’s menu consists primarily of Italian specialties ranging from hearty pasta dishes, salads, and grinder-style sandwiches to their ever-present specialty and traditional pizza offerings including a “garbage” pie packed high with tons of meaty toppings.

Pizza. After sampling countless different pizzas over the past year, we can say that Letizia’s makes a very unique pie both in taste and in texture. This pizza is founded on a super thin and uniquely dense, lifeless crust that is hardly crisp, but flavorful nonetheless. Slathered virtually to the edge is a uniquely sharp and tangy sauce, with slightly metallic notes reminiscent of The Varsity Club’s party room pie (we realize that this is a very obscure reference that only about a half generation of Stamford kids will understand, but suffice it to say—this is not a particularly good thing). Cutting through this faint taste of rusty buffalo nickels was just the right amount of creamy, delicious cheese with a perfect springy snap cooked to a golden-brown, gooey consistency. Atop this Pie of One Thousand Tastes was our topping of choice, half-steak and half-a virtual swimming pool of oil that would make even the least health conscious of diners consider a napkin mop-up job before digging in (this seemed to be exclusive to the slices that we specified to be half-cheese, so we’ll chalk that up as an aspect of their plain pie). All of that said, the toppings were absolutely delicious: the steak was tender and moist, the oil was heart-stoppingly indulgent. As you may have gathered from our take on the crust, we were less than enthusiastic about this pizza’s floppy, cumbersome, ingredient slip-prone texture that had us reaching for a knife and fork from the beginning—probably the biggest knock on yet another decisively below average pie.

The bottom line. While this pie was immensely flavorful, most of it’s flavor is derived from a strong, gaudy, sub-par sauce that overwhelms an otherwise thin and incoherent pizza that is nothing like anything we’ve ever tasted—and not in a good way.

Establishment: 18/30
Pizza: 15/30
Hits the Spot: 6.3/10
Large Cheese: $11.75

So, after what seemed like months off the pizza trail, we’re back in business with reviews of a few Norwalk eateries (our take on John’s Best is below, Letizia’s is forthcoming). Our hiatus has consisted primarily of failing to organize a tri-blog excursion to New Haven and fielding the same question over and over, so here are some redundant emails in hopes of clarifying our would-be reviews of some of the new blood on the Stamford pizza scene.

“Hi - are you planning to review Coalhouse pizza soon?  We would love to know about this new pizza place.” – Julie and Family

As it turns out, with Coalhouse being a Stamford pizzeria, we would be remiss if we—

“Hey guys.  Try the Sicilian or the Gourmet Pizzas at Nonna's.  Worth a solid review. Great pizza....” – J.

Guess you can’t have one without the other now, can you? So yeah, Coalhouse, Nonna’s, anything else that happens to pop up—

“Coalhouse and Nonna's in Ridgeway Center; When are you guys going there?” -Peter

Alright! We’re on it. The gaudy neon “COALHOUSE PIZZA” beacon has been screaming at us for a while now and we’ve had our eye on Nonna’s since the awning went up in February. We’re on it. The problem is, we’re a man short from when we reviewed all of the other pizzerias in Stamford, and we’d kind of like his input on these places too. Also, we’d like to give these new guys a chance to set their feet in Stamford and get everything up and running at long term capacity (as opposed to grand opening hoopla capacity). As soon as Dan makes his triumphant return to The City That Works, the axe will fall and you’ll see comprehensive reviews of the newcomers.

With that said, don’t wait on us by any means. If you “would love to know about” any of these new pizza places, go to them. Feed both your face and the local economy. Send us your opinions, give us a bit of a preview (we might even use it on the site), but don’t let us make up your mind for you. Consume.

That is all.

You might remember our latest entry from the annals of Stamford pizzas past, as it existed in town until our city’s pizza glut and Shiki Hibachi vanquished it from existence. While the menu at John’s Best may still refer to a sister pizzeria in the Woolworth(!!) Shopping Center on Hope Street, it’s merely a yellowed, decrepit, vinyl-sleeved relic of the past.

Establishment. John’s Best certainly hearkens back to a different age. Namely the early 1970s, which is probably the last time its interior was updated. A weathered peak awning emblazoned with (equally weathered) “John’s Best Pizza & Restaurant” lettering welcomed us into a dim and dumpy dining room littered with stained-glass lighting fixtures and fake plants. As if the wood-printed tile motif wasn’t homely enough, we were seated at a wrought iron table in a cramped little booth that had our knees and shins mere inches away from smashing into the extraordinarily overbuilt table supports. Decor aside, we were comparably pleased with the prompt and oddly complementary service (she told one of us, “nice hair!” before darting off to the kitchen with our order). While this tailed off toward the end of dinner—the check took forever, our water pitcher was splattered with sticky soda syrup, and the loud, endless banter from adjacent waitresses had us stirring with rage—there weren’t too many barriers to us stuffing our faces with pie. John’s Best’s menu consists mainly of Italian food, ranging from pasta dishes to sandwiches and salads and of course, pizza.

Pizza. We opted for a half-plain, half-meatball pie and for the most part, it wasn’t terrible. The crust was light and airy with enough of a chewy bite that it didn’t come off as bready or insubstantial. The cheese was creamy and plentiful, with a satisfying snap and welcoming stringiness. Unfortunately, the cheese was in short supply on a good two inch wide strip at the perimeter of the pie, pooling in the middle. The sauce was about average with the chunky texture and slight sweetness and tang of fresh tomatoes, but it felt underseasoned and a bit bland.The meatball topping was a bit of a letdown as well, with a rather unwelcome sponginess and metallic notes that could have used some of the unmistakable Italian flavors we’ve come to expect. The texture of this pie also left something to be desired as the oven-blistered, dry crust couldn’t quite hold up to the oils and cheese, soaking them up and devolving into a clumsy, floppy mess over time. Further, the cheese had a tendency to slide right off the pizza, and the pie as a whole lacked cohesion, both flavor- and texture-wise. The better aspects of this pie bordered on average and while not horrible, this pizza’s mediocrity was among its biggest sins.

The bottom line. There’s a very clear reason why John’s Bests have been closing all around Fairfield County: an unwillingness to update and upgrade a decent-but-flawed pizza and a laughingly outdated dining experience has allowed time—and far better establishments—to pass John’s Best by.

Establishment: 16/30
Pizza: 17/30
Hits the Spot: 5.0/10
Large Cheese: $12.45

A few months ago, self-proclaimed “fancy metrosexual” and friend of the Tour, JR from Streets of Stamford brought to our attention this Alan Richman (GQ) article detailing “the 25 best pizzas you’ll ever eat.” Among the pies in the surrounding areas are Pepe’s and Sally’s in New Haven, as well as Iron Chef (and documented blogger hater) Mario Batali and Joe Bastianich’s newly acquired (and 100+ year old) Tarry Lodge in Port Chester, NY.

Establishment. Tarry Lodge is as white tablecloth a restaurant as they come, all the way down to the white tablecloths. A unique, rustic labyrinth of eating nooks, finished wood, and water closets, Tarry Lodge balances elegance and comfort with warm decor in its saloon-style bar, tucked away dining rooms, and private party rooms. Our waiters (we had about seven of them) were extremely attentive, personable, and quick, especially considering our meal consisted of little more than free focaccia and water (with innumerable refills) and a few personal pizzas off of an otherwise well-rounded and complete menu. Tarry Lodge offers elegant, modern, mouthwatering twists on classic Italian fare and a seemingly endless wine list in addition to some rather unique pizzas.

Pizza. Richman’s article talks up Tarry Lodge’s sauceless white clam pie (pictured right), so we were eager to try it in addition to their traditional margherita pizza as well as a more modern meatball and jalapeño concoction. Each pie sat atop a light but dense, chewy crust and was absolutely scorched to a crisp in their wonderful wood-burning oven, giving the crust a unique texture, a muted smokiness, and a metric ton of slightly bitter char. The sauce (where applicable) was fresh-tasting and bright, albeit a bit watery and thin for our tastes, both in terms of flavor and texture. Tarry Lodge uses incredibly flavorful, creamy, and delicious cheeses on their pies. That being said, it’s less of a letdown when the thin, personal pie cools and the cheese congeals rather quickly. A letdown, yes, just less of one.The marghertia pie (pictured above) was as expected, highlighting quality staple ingredients and the clean flavors of garlic and basil by allowing them to play off one another and remaining simple but delicious.

Conversely, the meatball and jalapeño (and tomato and fontina) pizza (pictured below) combined two very different flavors in a rather haphazard fashion. While the meatballs were plump, tender, and extremely well-seasoned, the addition of jalapeño peppers detracted from the pie as a whole and overpowered the subtleties of the fresh tomato and fontina cheese.The white clam pie was unlike anything we’ve ever tried (even Pepe’s white clam pie), featuring fresh, salty in-the-shell clams and healthy amounts of garlic, oregano, and red pepper flakes in a buttery, briny explosion of flavor. After removing each tiny, delicious clam from its shell and assembling a slice, the first bite is nothing short of mind-blowing in all of its spicy/clammy/salty/garlicky glory. Unfortunately, once that clam was gone, there was little to the pizza itself and the dry, chewy crust and the numbing jaw soreness that would ensue really drove that point home.

The pizza at Tarry Lodge was not bad by any means, but for all the pageantry surrounding it—a wood-burning oven, world-renowned owners and chefs, a menu without decimal places—we somehow were expecting more.

The bottom line. Tarry Lodge does not make the best pizza we’ve ever had, but it’s far from the worst if you can somehow convince yourself not to order pasta or an entree.

Establishment: 26/30
Pizza: 19/30
Hits the Spot: 5.7/10
Large Cheese: $10.00 (12")

Located in pistol-wavin’ New Haven, Connecticut, the self-proclaimed pizza capital of the world, Modern Apizza brandishes a big, old, coal-fired brick oven and a street-filling queue that rivals both the oven’s size and age. Often mentioned in the same breath as New Haven’s iconic Pepe’s and Sally’s, Modern Apizza claims to have served the best pizza and calzone in town since 1934 and conveniently so, we’ve got the chops to test that very claim.

Establishment. Modern Apizza has the familiar ambiance of a wood-paneled den circa 1973 with a line stretching into the street on a typical Friday night (apparently a prerequisite for New Haven pizzerias) and a severe lack of parking. Framed by wretched Red Sox memorabilia, this restaurant offers a quick glimpse of its oversized coal-fired oven at the front counter amongst a thorough spackling of superfluous chowderhead propaganda. Misguided loyalties aside, Modern is otherwise marginally comfortable (cozy like a cafe…), albeit being a bit outdated and tremendously cramped (…or cozy like a basement). The service somehow managed to be personable and quick as well as snippy and mind-numbingly stupid, unable to answer simple questions like, “how long is the wait?” or “what is your best pizza?” and inexplicably throwing down full glasses of water on adjacent tables, splashing our party in the process. Modern’s menu consists of a limited variety of Italian appetizers and entrees, as well as sandwiches and calzones in addition to traditional apizzas, apizza specialties including crabmeat, clam, tuna, and both Italian and Veggie “Bomb” variants, and the infuriating overuse of the locally accepted term “apizza.”

Pizza. This pizza (or apizza, rather) did not exactly blow us away. In fact, it was quite average in light of what New Haven has offered up thus far. Founded on an oven-blistered, chewy, and uncharacteristically floppy crust, this (a)pizza was incredibly cumbersome and sloppy to eat while being (almost perplexingly) perfectly thin. The sauce was very simple, lightly seasoned and carrying the slight sweetness and unmistakable tang of crushed tomatoes. Unfortunately, it was in severely short supply and was thoroughly masked by the salty notes and golden brown smokiness of the high quality cheese that topped it. Further muted was the sauce in the presence of our toppings of choice: average but salty sausage and boring, flavorless, bring-nothing-to-the-table, waste-of-a-topping mushrooms. The problem with this pie was balance: an overpoweringly bad texture, a virtually dry crust, and overportioned cheese that killed the clean subtleties of an otherwise good sauce combined to create an average (a)pizza and proof that a coal-fired oven located in New Haven, CT does not necessarily spit out good pies.

The bottom line. While New Haven-style by definition, Modern’s haphazard, off-kilter “apizza” does not exhibit the unique qualities of a true New Haven pie, let alone those of a good one.

Establishment: 16/30
Pizza: 17/30
Hits the Spot: 6.5/10
Large Cheese: $14.00

Located amidst ritzy trinket shops and shoe stores in the heart of New Canaan, Pinocchio Pizza bills itself as “the crown jewel of the five pizza restaurants owned by the DiFabio brothers,” and has been featured prominently on B-level syndicated daytime television for its employees’ pizza chucking “skills.” While we’re sure they can stretch dough with the best of them, we’re here to judge whether or not they can cook it.

Establishment. Pinocchio Pizza is a quaint, welcoming dine-in establishment in the otherwise cold, black heart of New Canaan. Offering take-out and delivery options in addition to its small but comfortable dining room, Pinocchio is about as traditional a pizzeria as you’ll find in these parts with its quick, smart-assed table service, relatively family friendly atmosphere, and respectable assortment of by-the-slice offerings. The menu consists primarily of Italian fare, soups, salads, overpriced (in New Canaan they just call this “priced”) pasta dishes and Italian dinners as well as traditional and gourmet variations of pizza. Additionally, the menu gushes about Pinocchio being featured on TV, its chefs being members of the World Pizza Champions (America’s premier pizza team, of course) and its pizzas winning countless awards at the 2008 North American Pizza (and Ice Cream) Show in Columbus, OH (where they know plenty about pizza, we’re sure…)

Pizza. Pinocchio is known for one thing: lying. If Pinocchio himself (the good one, not the awful Roberto Benigni one) told you that this was a good pizza, or anything resembling a good pizza, he’d end up looking like this:

This pizza was as ill-conceived as casting your 50-year-old self to play a school-aged puppet/real boy. Pinocchio’s pie features a puffy, chewy, breadlike crust that’s difficult to chew and near impossible to taste. The cheese, billed as being from the mid-western king of cheeses, Grande, was pretty good aside from it being a bit salty and there being twice as much of it as there needed to be. The sauce was by far the strongest element of this pie (which isn’t saying much, we know), with a clean taste of fresh, tangy tomatoes and traditional Italian flavors. The problem here, is that the pizza was dominated so violently by the bland, spongy crust, the excess cheese, and an overall heavy, cumbersome texture, that the sauce was almost a non-factor. Hot out of the oven, this pizza was so incoherent and sloppy that we were all eating with forks. Further, our topping of choice, sausage, added a completely unnecessary saltiness and the stale taste of mop water to this horrible pie, doing nothing to complement the other “flavors” present. Sure, the guys at Pinocchio Pizza might be very well-versed in their “pizza skills,” but if they are, cooking a good pie is certainly not in their repertoire.

The bottom line. Beware the smoke and mirrors, Pinocchio’s victory in the North American Pizza (and Ice Cream) Show is not at all reflective of how terrible this bready mess of a pie is; maybe they won “Most Improvement Needed.”

Establishment: 19/30
Pizza: 14/30
Hits the Spot: 4.5/10
Large Cheese: $13.99

Located on Wall St. in Norwalk, Fat Cat Pie Co. is a newcomer to Norwalk’s anemic pizza scene with a bit of a following. Priding itself on an extensive wine list, a vast artisanal cheese selection, and super thin crust pizzas incorporating fresh organic ingredients, Fat Cat Pizza Co. is certainly different from many, if not all, of the pizzerias we’ve reviewed until now.

Establishment. We were met at Fat Cat Pie Co. by sprawling, minimalist bar and dining areas, decked out with hardwood floors, dark painted ceilings, IKEA-esque furnishings and extremely dim lighting bordering on uncomfortable darkness. The decor is rather stark and generally nonexistent, giving the restaurant a very clean, antiseptic feel and the look of an expensive loft of someone without the time to unpack. Needless to say, there’s a lot of wall for all sorts of dining sounds to bounce off of, and while even we were having some trouble hearing our otherwise attentive and helpful waiter on a not-so-crowded evening, we can only imagine how impossible conversation is when the place is hopping on a Friday night. Fat Cat’s menu was predictably bare (we’re sensing a theme here), consisting of pizzas and salads as well as cheese plate appetizers, mildly enticing deserts (like cookies with whipped cream; exorbitantly priced, but probably still delicious), and a reasonably priced, very unique beer and wine selection.

Pizza. Our pizzas of choice were a plain cheese pie (don’t do this), one topped with house-made sausage, and one with eggplant and fresh, chopped red onions. It’s rather interesting that this restaurant calls itself Fat Cat, as this was the thinnest freaking pizza we’ve ever eaten with a crust no thicker than a Mission tortilla and barely half the flavor. Cooked to a crisp, cracker-like consistency, Fat Cat’s crust is laughingly brittle and would easily shatter if dropped. The sauce—likely a conservative splash of crushed organic tomatoes and not much else—was about as bland as the decor, with little to no distinguishable taste and barely enough of it on any given pie to even lend itself to the overall texture. Fortunately, the cheese was a more-than-passable fresh, organic mozzarella with a satisfying snap and almost smoky notes that was disappointingly underportioned on two of our pizzas (one of them being the plain cheese pie).

However, Fat Cat Pie Co. really came through on the topping front, as both the house-made (!) sausage and eggplant toppings added much-needed flavors to pizzas that were essentially built as vehicles for these additions (as such, the plain cheese pie was an abomination). Also worth mentioning are the spice caddies that follow each pie to the table, complete with the basics (black pepper, red pepper, chili powder) and some less traditional toppers (Turkish and Bangkok seasonings) that, while unique, only hammers home the point that Fat Cat is more about gimmicky toppings and spices than a quality by-the-book pizza.

The bottom line. Fat Cat Pie Co. makes a super-thin, underflavored, overpriced, gimmicky edible plate of a pizza that is only as good as the toppings offered and made us stare longingly at the conversely huge salads (which doesn’t ever happen).

Establishment: 22/30
Pizza: 14/30
Hits the Spot: 3/10
Large Cheese: $9.00 (13")

With the announcement of our newest pizza-related ventures came a torrent of e-mails in which everyone told us about excellent pizzas all over the place from Flushing, Queens to Derby, CT and while we love eating good pizza, we also like writing about bad pizza. So, if you know of any particularly bad pizzas that have planted their stinking roots in your fair town and need to be put in their place, by all means, tell us about them too.

We’ve been pretty good sports about taking one for the team as far as eating (and warning our loyal readers of) horrible, horrible pies, so the next time you come across a pizzeria that serves up garbage, whether it be a brand new restaurant or one that’s been resting on its laurels for 20 or 30 years, drop us a line.

As you may (or more than likely—may not) have noticed, the ever present “Judge Dan” tag is missing in our most recent review and we’ve dwindled down to just two regulars, Judges Elliot and Scott. This is, of course, because Dan’s gone off to greener pastures in the beautiful, hurricane-laden state of Florida. The future Dr. Dan will report back to us from time to time with his own reviews of some of the more (or more than likely—less) savory pizza options in the Sunshine State as the Pizza Tour spreads its tentacles throughout the Free World.

Knowing what we know of the pizza quality down south (or more accurately, the lack thereof), we wish Dan only the best of luck in his future endeavors. Godspeed.

It seemed like the only way to reboot the Pizza Tour was to head north and try out the real heavy-hitters in New Haven. Often touted as the world’s best, New Haven-style pizza is in a world of it’s own, surrounded by local mythologies, mind numbingly un-Italian pronunciations, and cult-like followings not unlike that of Stamford’s own Colony Grill. Fortunately, we know that some landmark pizzerias don’t live up to the hype, and we were determined to see if the iconic Pepe’s was really any different.

Establishment. Driving up to Pepe’s, we got some immediate exposure to that hype by taking a look at the line that flooded out onto Wooster Street. After no less than a 30 minute wait on a fortunately temperate summer night outside the New Haven landmark, we were ushered into Pepe’s large but somehow still cramped dining room to our brass-numbered table (table 6 if you’re interested), promptly given menus, and left to our own devices to figure out what was good. Having done our homework, we swiftly picked out their famed white clam pie (without mozzarella) as well as a red-sauced mozzarella pizza (not “plain,” mind you), fearing the consequences of not knowing what we wanted by the time the evil waiter came around. Fortunately, our server was more than accommodating and we had nothing to worry about as they proceeded to throw our pizzas of choice into their double wide trailer-sized, coal-fired oven. What’s more, they also answer their phones, aren’t cash only, and managed to get those pizzas to us pretty good time, albeit while crudely stacking them atop one another en route to the table.

Pizza. We’re usually pretty hesitant to fall into the general consensus, but this truly is one good pizza. Pepe’s unique New Haven-style pie is founded on a extravagantly chewy and oven-charred crust that looks thin, but carries the character and bite of a robust thick crust, giving your mouth quite a workout all the while. Their red sauce is chunky and tangy, with hints of natural sweetness and a big, bold texture complemented by a near-perfect array of traditional Italian flavors and seasoning. Pepe’s uses a very smooth, stringy mozzarella, with a delightful snap and salty notes that complemented the red pie well, but certainly would have been overkill on the already salty white clam number. Speaking of which, our white clam pie was likewise packed with flavors and overwhelmingly so, revolving around a plentiful selection of the clammiest clams that ever clammed and a blatant smothering of incredibly fragrant garlic. The white sauce was barely noticeable underneath these unmistakable tastes, but as you can probably tell, this was likely for the better. The only knock on this pizza is the spastic way it’s cut into all sorts of shapes and sizes—big wedges, small wedges, strips, and the like—putting the traditional Greek “stupid square slice” method to shame for no apparent reason. While the white clam dynasty that seems to rule Wooster Street didn’t quite win us over (most of us thought the red pie was vastly superior), it’s clear why Pepe’s has such a following in New Haven and beyond.

The bottom line. Pepe’s has an utterly unique product that, as much as it pains us to say it, very much lives up to its hype. It’s also better than Colony.

Establishment: 18/30
Pizza: 25/30
Hits the Spot: 8.5/10
Large Cheese: $15.10 (18")

We were sitting in Remo's last Thursday after Alive @ Five, sucking down yet another Neapolitan-style New England Pie, when we couldn't help but reminisce about the Pizza Tour: how it started, how we pulled it off, and how The Advocate blew it completely out of proportion with three days worth of pizza coverage. But I digress. As we polished off our near-perfect pizza specimens without even thinking about scoring their sauce, cheese, crust, and ingredient slip on a scale of zero-to-five, it kind of felt wrong.

Sure, we're no longer shouldered with the responsibility of finding the best pizza in Stamford, but we're still having fun with this thing and as long as there's good pizza to be had, we're more than willing to try it and sing its praises on the internet. So, the Stamford Pizza Tour is going on a tour of its own. Since we're pretty much out of Stamford pizzerias, we're venturing outside the friendly confines of The City that Works to all sorts of renowned pizza bastions in the surrounding areas. We'll operate as before, except every pizzeria will be benchmarked against Stamford's finest.

Unlike last time, we're not really concerning ourselves with completeness. Instead, we'd like to open ourselves up to suggestions for the best pizzas within driving distance. So, drop us an e-mail and let us know where we need to be.

We're also very aware of some new pizzerias opening up in town, so when that happens, or we somehow come across a place that we missed, we'll go there too. The pizza just pulls you back in.

The Stamford Pizza Tour began as the product of our curiosity. Having lived in Stamford all of our lives and eating pizzas as "20-somethings" tend to do, it occurred to us to try all of them in rapid-fire succession and find out where the best pie comes from. So, we drew from our past efforts, put together a hilariously complex rating system, and hit the road equipped with nothing but our perfectly unrefined, pizza-loving taste buds. About seven restaurants in, we decided to somehow translate our "findings"—four dog-eared, grease-stained scoresheets clipped into 83 cent clipboards and covered with an incomprehensible array of numbers—into something more a bit more substantial (and a helluva lot more useful).

Soon, stamfordpizzatour.com was born. Complete with a little map, a few quippy reviews, and a growing list of Pizzas to be Toured, this site had spun our latest boredom-fueled venture into a marginally relevant, quasi-authority on pizza in The City that Works. We praised the good places, panned downright horrible ones, and were admittedly torn amongst the ones we couldn't quite come to a consensus on. Polarizing as most (if not all) reviews are, some readers agreed with us and some readers didn't, but in the end, we stayed true to our goals and found a phenomenal pizza that we certainly would have overlooked had we not visited all 50+ pizzerias in our fair city. This is not to say that you'll certainly agree with us, because that, after all, is the nature of opinion.

o-pin-ion \ə-'pin-yən\ n., : 1. a belief or judgment that rests on grounds insufficient to produce complete certainty. 2. a personal view, attitude, or appraisal.

But why should you listen to us? What are our credentials? Why does our opinion even matter? Well, it doesn't have to matter to you. The Stamford Pizza Tour is not gospel; we have never and will never make that claim. We do, however, have the unique distinction of having been to every restaurant in Stamford with a pizza on their menu in a relatively short amount of time. We were able to compare and contrast the best this town has to offer with the same outlook and the same intent as anyone else who wants to go out and eat a damn good pizza.

We're not food critics, we just have a website. We haven't been trained in the culinary arts, and even if we were, you probably shouldn't have trusted us any more or any less. Pizza is street food, it comes in a box and can be eaten off of paper plates while standing up without the use of any utensils whatsoever. No one needs to be educated at Le Cordon Bleu to wrap their heads around which pizza tastes good and which one tastes like the box it came in. Anyone can judge a pizza and this little patch of the internet that you've stumbled upon is proof.

So what have we done here? We set out to find one really good pizza in Stamford and we found many. We spent six months getting reacquainted with a city we thought we knew well and discovered restaurants we'd never seen before. We met a wealth of talented, personable restaurant owners and their staffs, and we were able to give them credit for their hard work while having a lot of fun doing it. Moreover, we set out to present our opinions in an informative, entertaining format, giving the layman's food review a bit more dimension than, "that pizza's so good," and we believe we've accomplished that as well.

We might be out of restaurants, but we're not going anywhere. Stay tuned to see where the next leg of the Stamford Pizza Tour takes us.

When we started the Pizza Tour, we were absolutely set on giving out an award for Best Pizza and Best Establishment. It was ingrained in the lineage of the Tour, however, to expand these two awards to about thirty of them. We've already had our fun with Superlatives and doled out seemingly obligatory Best of the Neighborhood honors, so here's some of the more cut-and-dried winners from around Stamford that absolutely deserve recognition.

Best Pizza - Amore
This should be no surprise, as we've pretty openly posted our numbers throughout this months-long process with Amore topping the pack, if only by the slimmest of margins, and taking the "regular season" recognition in addition to our Pizza Tournament honors.

Best Establishment - Spazzio
This also shouldn't be much of a surprise, as Spazzio has had a stranglehold over Establishment scores since we reviewed them in March. Their pepper guy- and cheese man-having tendencies edged out Vinny's crap-on-walls-having tendencies by fractions of a point, as we're typically suckers for cloth napkins, free bread, and three foot tall pepper mills.

Best Delivery Pizza - Ridgeway Pizza
Ridgeway got hammered in the Establishment column for not really having a dining room to speak of. That said, they are the best pizzeria featured on our Tour to offer delivery and while Ridgeway's pizzas are extraordinary if enjoyed hot out of the oven in the confines of their tiny dining area, they also travel very, very well (unlike a certain sixth place pizza...).

Best Greek Pizza - Hope Restaurant
To those confused by Hope's inclusion in the Pizza Tournment, this is Greek pizza. Compared to Italian-style pies, it's a completely different animal and Hope Pizza, with their buttery, airy crust, traditional Greek toppings, and asinine way of cutting round things into squares, wins hands down.

Most Improvement Needed - Speedy Pizza
MIN has traditionally been the Razzie of our storied food Tours, and this is no exception. Speedy Pizza has the absolute worst pizza in Stamford, without question. We thought Michelina's would put up a good fight with its floppy circle of garbage pizza, but Speedy was utterly dominant in every category, from its cheap, tasteless ingredients to its horrible, frozen pizza-esque crust. With a 20 minute cook time, its hardly Speedy either.

We cataloged all of our reviews in a bunch of different categories. Among these many categories is a pizzeria's neighborhood, because if you live in the outer reaches of Stamford, even the best pizza on earth won't drag you across town.

Best of Turn of River - Sorrento

Best of Downtown - Remo's

Best of West Side/South End - Outpost Pizza

Best of East Side - Stamford Pizzeria

Best of Bull's Head/Ridgeway - John the Baker

Best of Shippan/Cove - TIE

Best of Springdale/Glenbrook/Belltown - Amore Restaurant

If you live in one of these neighborhoods and like another restaurant better than our certified Bests, then go there instead. We don't care.

In our Tour of virtually every pizza restaurant in Stamford, we learned far more about each establishment than just how good its pizza is. We'd like to offer some superlatives to some of the places we've come across and enjoyed that you might want to venture to try, if not for excellent pizzas than for these intangibles.

Best Bang for Your Buck - Emilia's
This is awarded to the restaurant with the best Pizza and Hits the Spot scores per dollar spent. We paid just $9.00 and we got a delicious, monstrous 18" pizza, personable service, and a new go-to for quick lunches down the Cove.

Diamond in the Rough - Villa Italia
This award goes to the restaurant that absolutely wowed us with its charming atmosphere, reasonable prices, and very good pizza despite being located in a less-than-savory shopping center that certainly doesn't attract new customers. Go here.

Best Restrooms - Cove Restaurant
This goes, quite unsurprisingly, to the restaurant with the most exquisite restrooms a pizzeria can offer, which means a lot because we've visited and rated all of them. Incidentally, they also offer a great product with toppings (spicy sausage) that still have us talking. Go for the pizza, stay for the bathrooms. Or the other way around, just go.

Best Seat - 122 Pizza Bistro
Not to be confused with a Best Seating honor, Best Seat goes to the very best chair, bench, or booth in a Stamford pizza restaurant. In this case, Best Seat was awarded to 122 Pizza Bistro's lavish, velveteen benches lining the back walls.

Best Mother@#$%ing Waitstaff - Tracks
This award goes to the waitstaff (or in this case, owner) who swore at us the most profusely while somehow bolstering a friendly, neighborhood atmosphere of attentive, personable waiters and waitresses.

Surprisingly Good - Brennan's
Not unlike the Diamond in the Rough honor, Surprisingly Good is awarded to the restaurant with the best pizza despite our preconceived notions of it being just another sloppy bar pie. Be not afraid, drinkers-but-not-eaters of Brennan's, the pizza is surprisingly good.

Most Fun - Vinny's Backyard
This award goes to the home of the most plucky signs, hilariously forged autographed photos, and flat-screen TVs. We've happily re-visited Vinny's for drinks and wings on numerous occasions and would love to make it our go-to college football bar if they'll play Michigan football games in the fall. Wink wink.

Bageliest Pizza - Liz Sue Bagels
This award goes to the pizza that tastes most like a bagel. Liz Sue absolutely ran away with this one.

Most Cheese - Garibaldi Mexican Grill (and Pizza)
This prize is awarded to the pizzeria to jam the most cheese on a crust, defying the laws of physics and all that is right in this world to deliver the artery-cloggingist likeness of Pizza the Hutt that we've ever seen.

Closed - Sammy G's
This one really goes without saying.

Most Bulletproof - Lucy's Pizza Parlor
This award goes to the pizzeria that can best withstand an onslaught of bullets and shrapnel. While we're unsure if Lucy's quarter-inch Plexiglas with pizza box sized hole is completely bulletproof, we know that it is at least the most bulletproof.

Closest to Teitelbaum - Long Ridge Tavern
This distinguished honor is awarded to the pizzeria closest to the Teitelbaum compound. That's it.

Tournament Champion - Amore Restaurant - 44 points

Amore's Tournament-clinching entries consisted of two of the simplest, yet most overwhelmingly tasty pizzas we've had to date. We began with a house specialty pizza Bruschetta, featuring fresh tomatoes, sliced mozzarella, crispy bacon, crushed garlic, and basil with a perfectly-seasoned light sauce atop a golden brown, crisp, delicious crust. Halfway through demolishing this pie, Al, the owner, came by and dropped off a small pizza Margherita, his specialty, admitting that his Bruschetta was "ultimate," but his Margherita, with tomato, fresh mozzarella and basil was still better.

Dan: "BOOYAH!!!"

Reaves: "Great sauce, great cheese, excellent sauce" (getting a bit redundant, aren't we, Reaves? -ed)

Elliot: "Good crust: crunchy and cooked to perfection, tomatoes are off-the-vine fresh, ingredients work so well together. Awesome."

Kait: "Bruschetta was amazing. Extremely fresh, great sauce, great atmosphere, very friendly."

Allison: "Bacon = excellent addition, liked Bruschetta better than Margherita, but both were excellent."

Scott: "Excellent sauces, cheese is incredibly fresh, crust is absolutely perfect. Huge, fresh, clean flavors make a near-perfect pizza"

Well, there you have it. We at the Stamford Pizza Tour can confidently say that the very best pizza in town comes from Amore Restaurant, and while we're torn between the Bruschetta and the Margherita pies, it seems they can do no wrong because both were extraordinary. We were blown away by this establishment when all we did was walk in and order a simple, classic cheese pizza (half plain/half sausage, as per usual) on the Tour, only to be reassured of our choice with a quiet, confident, "I don't think you'll be disappointed." We certainly were not, and we know that you won't be either.

When you show up to Amore in droves, clamoring for the very best pizza in the city, tell them the Stamford Pizza Tour sent you. Buon appetito!

Runner-up - Remo's - 35 points

Remo's entered what seemed like the entire left side of their menu into the Pizza Tournament with an unprecedented five unique, small pizzas: New York-style plain cheese (not pictured) and Four Seasons pies, Napoletana-style Margherita and New England pies, as well as a unique classic salad pizza. Every pizza was cooked on Remo's trademark brick oven charred crust and topped with some of the freshest tasting ingredients and sauces that we've come across on the Tour. Rather than running you through every one of them, we'll just let their menu and our photos do the talking.

Reaves: "Excellent sauce and crust, margherita pizza was really good and tasted very fresh."

Elliot: "Fresh, fresh, fresh, superb toppings, [New England pie] was phenomenal with red sauce, like an excellent pasta sauce."

Kait: "Clam pizza was the best: great taste and texture, very good crust."

Scott: "Perfectly cooked, slightly charred crusts all around, very consistent. Sauce is phenomenally flavorful, toppings are extraordinary."

Dan: "Clam pizza was very good, an honorable mention goes to the salad pizza, very refreshing."

Most of the time when we were offered multiple pizzas, it was quite evident what the better one was, but at Remo's, every pie had its merits and it was almost harder to rank Remo's entries than to rank Remo's against the rest of the restaurants that day. In addition to being scarily consistent and utilizing only the freshest ingredients to make absolutely phenomenal pizzas, Remo's offered an incredibly hospitable and comfortable dining experience that we'll be sure to revisit, Pizza Tour or not.

We recently received a rub from the old media and as such, have come across quite a few new readers in the last two days. Welcome.

It might seem to some like this Stamford Pizza Tournament thing was but an elaborate scheme to land a few free pizzas, but rest assured, we did quite a bit of homework beforehand. The Tournament was, quite simply, a culmination of our little dog and pony show, the Stamford Pizza Tour. Over the last six months, we've sampled (and paid for) over 100 types of pizza at over 50 pizzerias around town at the rapid-fire clip of at least two a week and, in addition to shortening our lifespans considerably, amassed quite a bit of admittedly subjective data that led us to the final eight.

For an excellent insider's view of a single leg of the Tour (i.e. where all that nonsense data came from), be sure to visit JR at Streets of Stamford, namely his post, My night with the Stamford Pizza Tour that he wrote following his inclusion as a guest judge on our first trip to Stamford Pizzeria back in May. You'll find his article both informative and amusing, and hopefully some of his Stamford-but-not-pizza-related items will strike your fancy as well.

3rd place - John the Baker - 30 points

The fight for the podium was as close as it could be with John the Baker edging out Ridgeway by a single point with its dual offering of a classical pizza Napoletana with fresh plum tomatoes, a healthy amount of basil, fresh garlic, and stringy mozzarella, all sprinkled with fine olive oil, as well as a super-traditional half-plain/half-pepperoni pie featuring John the Baker's signature red sauce, both atop hearty, flavorful New York-style crusts.

Reaves: "Excellent crust, great ingredients, great cheese."

Elliot: "Crust cooked to perfection: crispy but still chewy. Fresh, full plum tomatoes and basil, no prominent cheese texture, but considerable taste."

Scott: "Tomatoes give it a phenomenal texture, crust is excellent and tasty, but a bit too thick, got cold pretty quickly too."

Dan: "Damn good."

Kait: "Napoletana was the best, good crust, excellent cheese, not too greasy at all."

Allison: "Well seasoned, good balance of fresh tomatoes, top notch crust, but the cheese is a little rubbery."

John the Baker is a family staple in Stamford, whether for its pizza, for its vast menu of other Italian specialties, or for its unique ability to throw a helluva pizza party (we all attended quite a few in our younger years). They have been incredibly generous and hospitable to the Tour and to all of their customers alike, proudly touting themselves as a family restaurant first and foremost.

4th place - Ridgeway Pizza - 29 points

Ridgeway Pizza is the only true "takeout only" restaurant to make the cut for the Tournament, and deservedly so. They've consistently provided us with excellent pizzas before, during, and conceivably long after the Pizza Tour, proving that you don't need a dining room to serve phenomenal pizzas. Ridgeway's entries included a specially-made Clams Casino pie with fresh clams and shrimp, crispy, delicious bacon (is there any other kind?), and a rich Alfredo sauce, as well as a plain cheese pizza with trademark smooth, stringy cheese and incredibly well-seasoned red sauce for those less inclined to try the clams, all baked on Ridgeway's perfectly thin, crispy, charred New York-style crusts.

Reaves: "Great crust, great excellent sauce, very good New York-style pizza."

Allison: "Great sauce and cheese, great thin crust."

Kait: "Clams Casino was delicious: good sauce, thin crust, very fresh ingredients."

Scott: "Superb thin crust, excellent sauce (both red and Alfredo), and absolutely piping hot."

Elliot: "Very crunchy, structural crust, mediocre cheese, but the best (sweet) sauce so far."

Dan: "Very good."

Whether for a quick lunch (2 slices and a soda for under $4), or for takeout, or for illicit deliveries to the back door of Westhill, Ridgeway has been our go-to place for years due to their quick service, personable staff, and phenomenal pizza. When we spoke to Nick, the owner, on Sunday, he told us that he trains his kitchen staff to make pizzas for his customers as if they were family. "If you wouldn't give it to your kids," he said, "throw it out, don't give it to my customers." Words to live by for any respectable business, in Stamford or otherwise.

5th place - Hope Pizza - 25 points

Hope Pizza was incredibly hospitable and welcoming, ushering us in with a super-attentive waitstaff, more than generous management, and two delectable pizzas. The first was a more traditionally Greek selection with sliced tomatoes, fresh garlic, feta cheese, and oregano atop their signature airy, buttery, Greek crust (pictured below sans a slice that Reaves couldn't wait to devour). The second also featured Hope's perfect Greek crust, but was topped a bit more conventionally with sliced meatballs and thin shoestrings of onion.

Kait: "Perfection until proven otherwise."

Scott: "Perfect buttery, Greek crust, unique texture, huge flavors, not crazy about the feta, though."

Allison: "Good cheese mixture, love the feta. Crust = fluffy and delish. A bit too greasy and garlicky, though."

Reaves: "Very smooth cheese, good crust, and good balance between the two."

Elliot: "Explosion of superb flavor, steaming hot, buttery, bready crust on a gigantic pizza."

Dan: "The Greek pie was better than the meatball and onions pizza, but both were very good."

As you can see, there are not too many bad things to say about Hope's offerings and regardless of their standing, they offer a unique product amidst many Italian restaurants in town that is executed to near perfection. Coupled with a comfortable, homelike atmosphere, this pizza can give just about anyone a good reason to eat out on a Friday night.

6th place - Colony Grill - 23 points

Colony's entry was their famed hot oil and sausage pie, founded on their iconic, chewy-but-crispy-and-flavorful thin crust and topped with just the right amount of sauce and cheese, pock marked by superfluous hot oil bubbling up from the inner sanctum of the pie as well as some delectable DeYulio's sausage from across the street.

Judges, sound off!

Reaves: "Great crust, great sauce, great cheese. I could eat this even when I'm stuffed"

Scott: "As expected. Someone sold their soul for this crust recipe, sauce and cheese are mediocre, greasy as ever. A novelty at best."

Kait: "Love the crunchy, delicious crust, but way too greasy and very small."

Allison: "Wet, messy, and delicious, but I couldn't eat any more [than one slice]."

Dan: "Colony is Colony. Not the best pizza I've had from here, though. Also, service sucked, Kait didn't even get a glass."

Elliot: "No crunch to this crust, chewy cheese, good sauce, great grease, awful service."

As we were waiting the compulsory 30-60 minutes for our single 12" greaseball pie, a member of their horrid, unfriendly waitstaff crept up and perched over Allison's shoulders to tell us that Colony was the best and that we might as well just stop looking. They're not and we didn't.

7th place - Stamford Pizzeria - 21 points

Stamford Pizzeria was kind enough to send two pies our way, a traditional Margarita pizza (pizza Margherita) with peeled plum tomatoes, fresh basil, garlic, and both Romano and light mozzarella cheeses as well as one topped with DeYulio's sausage and sliced onions, both on a thick, crispy crust.

Reaves: "Excellent crust, not too thin; great cheese, excellent sauce."

Kait: "Good sauce, the basil is a little 'meh,' kind of greasy."

Elliot: "Crust is perfectly crispy, cooked to perfection"

Allison: "Nothing outstanding, good sausage, though"

Scott: "Very thick and crispy crust, was put off by cooked, wilted basil."

Dan: "Good pizza, of course. Liked the sausage and onion better than the margarita."

We were probably split down the middle on which of the two pies were better, but all things considered, they were both top notch and cooked perfectly with just the right amount of crispness and bite. Everyone at Stamford Pizzeria was extraordinarily generous and welcoming as well, making for a rather enjoyable dining experience.

8th place - Springdale Pizza - 9 points

To be fair, we should note that Springdale was the very last stop of the night and while we were very careful to avoid gorging on pizzas throughout the day, it was unavoidable to an extent and the scores may have reflected that. In any event, Springdale's entry was a piping hot, classic cheese pizza with a thick, chewy crust, hearty, well seasoned tomato sauce and good quality, stringy cheese.

In lieu of our usual edited, refined, and dressed up reviews, we invite you to take what you will from some of the gritty details: our judges raw opinions, straight off the scorecards:

Kait: "Sauce is tasty, cheese is good, pie is very hot, but the crust is not the best."

Elliot: "Crust is very thick, sauce is a bit plain, regular."

Allison: "Crust is too much. Meh."

Scott: "Crust tastes excellent but is too thick and too chewy."

Dan: "Good, but not magical. A little underwhelming to be honest."

We can't take anything away from Springdale. While their pizza finished last in our Tournament, they have nothing to be ashamed of as their 45+ years of experience yield pizzas that are consistently among the very best in town, backed by a welcoming, family dining experience.

It's over. It took six judges, eight pizzerias, eleven hours, damn near 20 pizzas, and innumerable, yet-to-be-seen hours at the gym, but we did it and it's done. Here's how it happened.

We met at noon yesterday, the three original members of the Pizza Tour, Elliot, Dan, and Scott, as well as our most tenured guest judge, Kait, our once-original Pizza Tour cohort, Reaves, and Elliot's sister, Allison. We went to John the Baker, Hope Pizza, Ridgeway, and Remo's and asked them simply, "give us the best pizza you have." Then we took a much needed break because most restaurants interpreted our request as, "give us a bunch of really good pizzas and let us figure out which one is the best." Needless to say, by the break, we had a considerable amount of high quality leftovers.

After the break, we visited Stamford Pizzeria, Colony Grill, Amore, and Sergio's* Springdale with the same request, "all we ask is that you serve us the best pizza you've got." Again, most places found this to be as hard as a mother picking her favorite child and showered us with several phenomenal pizza pies (except for Colony, they gave us one). Seventeen pizzas later, we convened at Pizza Tour HQ in a scene straight out of Twelve Angry Men, arguing on behalf of the truth. The six of us ranked each restaurant's showing individually from first to worst, with the best receiving 8 points, and the worst receiving 1. These points were then totaled, giving us a clear winner for Best Pizza in Stamford in the Stamford Pizza Tournament.

Over the next week, we will count down our findings beginning with numbers 7 and 8 today and ending with numbers 1 and 2 on Thursday in hopes of filling the dining rooms of these establishments on Friday night with customers clamoring for one of the very best pizzas in town.

* Sergio's declined to compete, wanting nothing to do with the Internet, presumably due to the likes of Y2K, Napster, and the elf bowling virus.

Today's the day. When the smoke clears and the dust settles, we will crown a Stamford Pizza Tournament champion (followed shortly by the crowning of all sorts of other ancillary champions...). Anyway, the participants are as follows:

• Hope Pizza
• Ridgeway Pizza
• Amore Restaurant
• John the Baker
• Colony Grill
• Remo's
• Sergio's
• Stamford Pizzeria
• Springdale Pizza

We will be visiting each of these restaurants today. We will ask for their very best pizza. We will eat it. We will judge it. We will crown a champion. May the best pie win.

(Incidentally, we'll also be caving to this twitter thing by posting live updates as to our whereabouts if that's what floats your boat.)