As someone who is admittedly a bit introverted and whose pizza knowledge is landlocked to North Jersey, I admit that am not one to immediately venture out and try new places when they come to my attention.
I have tried a small number of the popular pizzerias that has some sort of online fame, such as Prince Street pizza for the spicy spring, Joe’s Pizza and Artichoke Basille. I know about Frank Pinello and Best Pizza, but I admit I have not had the “full experience” because I only ate at their location in the American Dream mall. It’s a good slice, but there might be something different over in Williamsburg, Brooklyn.
A TikTok featuring Michelin starred chef Zaiyu Hasegawa praising Scarr’s and a guest appearance of the namesake on a recent episode of the Throwing Fits podcast convinced me to go out of my way to visit. I felt that Scarr’s appearance on the show really solidified him as a genuine person who just wanted to make the best pizza he could.
You see, in food, there are three types of people that tend to succeed and become well known: there are assholes who are full of themselves and use their name as a brand, there are even bigger assholes who are in pursuit of Michelin stars become the meanest motherfuckers on the planet as a result, and there is a rare breed - the cool, chill guy who makes what he likes and is rewarded for being good at it.
Simply put, I’m a sucker for a good story and also wanted to see if Scarr really made a good slice as he said he did on the only podcast that matters.
This last Friday, I went out of my way to visit Scarr’s after attending a screening at the Asian American International Film Festival.
It has been a while since I was in the Lower East Side. I usually touch SoHo or Chinatown, but the last time I was there, Round Two was open. I came in with two big bags filled with vintage t-shirts and they only bought one item from me.
(That’s a story for another time)
Like most things in New York City, there is a line outside Scarr’s. Lines typically do not bother me, it is the disappointment that sometimes comes after I wait on a long line that tends to grind my gears.
Trust me, I have been to the Supreme store when they were still located on Lafayette Street. On one instance, I waited 2 hours to settle for buying underwear because all the cool hats and t-shirts I wanted were sold out.
I admit, I did come at a time considered “peak hours;” a Friday evening at 9:30, when college aged transplants in small dresses and finance bros in mesh-knit sweater polos begin to fill the many bars and restaurants in the neighborhood.
I waited for an hour, which passed by quickly after large groups of out-of-towners and tourists dissipated from the small space.
Unlike something like the museum of ice cream or the (insert artist or popular tv show here) pop-up or exhibition or Prince Street Pizza, Scarr’s is not a tourist trap or influencer cesspool.
They are for real.
I ordered a plain slice and a specialty slice called the hotboi. If there is one word I can describe these slices, it would be balanced.
What do I mean by “balanced?”
Every ingredient on the pizza from the dough to the sauce has its role and does not overpower each other. From my experience eating many plain slices around North Jersey, a certain place’s slice would have a glaring ingredient that makes it “stand out.” For example, Big Jim’s in New Milford would always have too much cheese to make up for its tasteless sauce, Pizza Town USA in Elmwood Park has a tangy sauce that makes up for its lack of cheese and many places around North Jersey that will remain nameless use low quality ingredients that make their pizzas taste like pizza-flavored La Croix.
To complete the analogy, Scarr’s slice is like one of those canned sparkling juice drinks from San Pellegrino that used to have the foil on top of the can. It’s not overly sweet like Orange Crush or a Fanta, but it’s smooth and balanced enough to feel refreshing.
Every ingredient is there and perfectly capable to serve its purpose and nothing more or less. They are not compensating for any shortcomings that other ingredients fail to deliver.
I understand that someone like you, the reader, might think that something like cheese that tastes like cheese and sauce that tastes like sauce and a crust that isn’t doughy is something that you might not taste on first glance, and/or something you might be used to, but it matters and you will notice why.
Simply put, there is a high possibility that a slice of this pizza might ruin other pizza for you.
The real stand out aside from the seemingly “perfect plain slice” was the hotboi slice.
To be honest with you, I was intimidated by the sight of jalapeños. Although my tolerance is high, I dread having to eat spicy food and typically do not like spice levels that go beyond carrying flavor. Then again, there is cheese on this pizza.
The combination of the beef pepperoni, jalapeños and mikes extra hot honey made for a nice, sweet heat that was again, balanced. I expected this slice to be some sort of dare food; I thought I was gonna be fighting for my life next to a trash can in front of the line and in front of really attractive people walking by on the way to their favorite bar.
But that was not the case. I forgot to buy a bev, but I didn’t need one. The heat from the jalapeños and the honey was there, but it was as easy to eat as the plain slice. I did not feel like I needed water or milk.
During his appearance on Throwing Fits, Scarr said that his pizzeria is one of the only ones (to his knowledge) that uses all organic ingredients, does not use any pork and mills their own flour.
Some people might attribute Scarr’s success to these decisions. Personally, I think their success is a result of a rigorous form of quality control.
Scarr told a story on the podcast where he had to let an employee go because he kept on making “well-done” pizzas. For those who are new to the idea of “pizza doneness,” when a pizza is “well-done,” it has been in the oven for slightly longer. You can tell if a pizza is “well-done” if you notice that the crust is darker and the cheese is more evenly melted. Some people prefer this way because the darker crust means that it is slightly harder, producing a slice with a lot less “flop”, as the sauce is less likely to penetrate through the crust.
The problem with “well-done” pizza is that it would not taste as good as intended in a slice shop setting. Most slices are typically cut from pizzas made up to an hour or two ago and reheated when ordered. If you reheat a “well-done” slice in the same manner as a typical slice shop, you will get a dry slice, as it is now “beyond well-done.”
My lone complaint that can be easily fixed is the temperature. I’m not like the guy who does the pizza tours that pulled out the temperature gun during a MUNCHIES segment on Two Bros, but they do keep a hot oven. Given how fast my slices went from the display to the oven and onto plates, I could safely assume the oven was very hot.
I spent around two to two and a half minutes looking for a place to post up outside, but biting into my plain slice was like biting into a hot pocket right after it comes out the microwave. I don’t think it’s that much of a serious issue, but to those who don’t know how to say “not too hot for my slices“ might complain.
Overall, I recommend this place as a must try.
Earlier this year, the New York Times listed Scarr’s at number 73 on its list of the 100 best restaurants in New York City. It deserves that spot, and is especially significant because it is the only slice shop on that list.
But then again, I am not a food reviewer. I just so happen to eat a lot of pizza.
Ingat.