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")

Flying their unmistakable neon banner over Bull’s Head, Coalhouse Pizza is one of the newest pizza establishments in Stamford and the subject of many, many requests; some glowing recommendations, some just out of curiosity.

The Pizza Tour returned to Stamford with a vengeance on our excursion to Coalhouse, toting along an absurd number of guest judges including fellow Stamford bloggers, JR of Streets of Stamford and Kate of Stamford Notes, as well as about six other disciples of the Tour clawing themselves back onto the bandwagon.

Establishment. Coalhouse Pizza sports a snazzy blues- and jazz-inspired feel that, once you get over how wildly out of place it is in Stamford, is rather unique and charming, albeit approaching obnoxious levels of trendiness. Prints of blues and jazz icons dot the walls and cover the tables while their sounds flood the warmly lit restaurant for some top-notch ambiance. Unfortunately for us (and fortunately for them) the place was absolutely jam-packed, so we had to wait outside in the Arctic tundra and take what we could get table-wise (which is mostly our fault for not realizing that the triumphant return of the Stamford Pizza Tour would draw such a crowd of guest judges). That said, Coalhouse is set up well enough for moderately large crowds and was very accommodating to our stupidly large party, equipped with a couple outdoor propane heaters and serving us rather quickly once we got inside. The menu at Coalhouse includes hearty salads, a limited selection of pasta dishes and sandwiches, and a conversely extensive selection of ribs and chicken wings in addition to a very wide spectrum of specialty pizza offerings and high-quality, gourmet topping options.

Pizza. Once we got settled, we ordered a large Blue Skies (marinara, mozzarella, basil, olive oil—a margarita pie) and a large Freight Train (margarita + crumbled sweet Italian sausage, onions, and mixed peppers).

As expected, the pies were extremely thin and unfortunately, considerably smaller than their 16" billing would lead us to believe. The crust had a distinct yeasty flavor, a surprisingly slight char, and very little bite relative to the coal-fired pies we’ve sampled in New Haven. The sauce was in rather short supply on such a delicate pizza, but had the natural tang and sweetness of crushed tomatoes and was very well-seasoned. As for the cheese: what cheese? While Coalhouse prides itself on their use of “preservative-free, fior di latte mozzarella” (cow mozzarella for us laymen), and while it tasted very fresh and delicious, there wasn’t nearly enough of it on any of our pies to make a difference. The biggest knock we could find on this pie (and it’s pretty big) was the texture. This pizza was pretty floppy and insubstantial, especially for a coal-fired pie, lacking the characteristic crispness and char that we’ve come to expect from such pizzas.

As such, this pizza absolutely needs toppings, but boy do they deliver with some top-shelf ingredients. We were very happy with our sausage, pepper, and onion number featuring delicious, bright, and fresh flavors that set this pie (and to an extent, this restaurant) apart from other, less ingredient-conscious ones.

The bottom line. Coalhouse Pizza, the trendy new kid in town, clearly has the best of intentions with its use of quality ingredients and close attention to detail, but has yet to work out all of the kinks and live up to its neon-soaked hype.

Establishment: 22/30
Pizza: 19/30
Hits the Spot: 5.4/10
Large Cheese: $12.75

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")

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.

Located on East Main Street, Stamford Restaurant & Pizzeria is a little Italian restaurant hidden amongst a rug store, Just Cats, and Exit 9 Bagels. We were pleased to host two guest judges on this leg of the Tour, including our fellow local blogger JR of Streets of Stamford and Bryan, a Burrito Tour veteran.

Establishment. We were greeted at Stamford Pizzeria by a rather pungent aroma at the door of an otherwise presentable, intimately lit, and (mercifully) neutrally smelling dining area. Moderately sized, this restaurant was large enough for our party of five, as we were quite comfortably seated at a long table beneath a kitschy full relief map of Italy complete with little light-up landmarks. The service was excellent at first, but tailed off and became less attentive and much more frustrating over the course of our meal to the point where we were on the verge of begging for our bill. Cleanliness was also suspect, as the bathroom is located in the kitchen and kind of grossed us all out. Stamford Pizzeria's menu consists of the standard Italian favorites as well as both specialty and traditional pizzas.

Pizza. We've sounded off on the mediocre establishment, but despite all that, this pizza is very good. The crust was rather tasty and well proportioned with just the right amount of char. Accompanying it is an average sauce that was underseasoned and in short supply, but otherwise complementary to the overall pizza despite a lack of bold flavor. Stamford Pizzeria does not seem to skimp on good ingredients, as this pie was generously covered with high quality cheese for a fresh flavor and a stringy consistency that wasn't excessively greasy (but could, and did cause the cheese to slip off the pie with ease). Our topping of choice, Italian sausage, also came in the form of high quality, flavorful, meaty chunks. Stamford Pizzeria's thin crust pie cooled a bit too quickly for our liking, but was very good overall.

The bottom line. Stamford Pizzeria is a frustratingly average establishment with a decidedly above average pizza in spite of many gaudy shortcomings not at all related to the food.

Establishment: 18/30
Pizza: 23/30
Hits the Spot: 8/10
Large Cheese: $10.60

AWARDS WON:

2009 – Best of East Side

2009 – Tournament Finalist (7th place)