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July 31, 2009
Straight Out of Brooklyn, the $5 Slice
He might know (an EJ relation?)
By MANNY FERNANDEZ
On Avenue J in the Midwood section of Brooklyn, a small cup of coffee costs $1.39. An 18-stick package of gum is $1.49. And at Di Fara Pizza, the price of a plain cheese slice: $5.
Crowds form at the counter at Di Fara and spill onto the sidewalk. They are not an angry mob, but a hungry one. Some order two slices, for $10, and some, like Frank Mancino, a retired electrician from Bath Beach, Brooklyn, whose girth is a statement about his allegiance to pizza in general and Di Fara in particular, order a whole square pie, for $30.
“Worth it,” said Mr. Mancino, 64, between bites on Wednesday afternoon. “It’s like they dug up my grandma and she made the pie.”
Di Fara, one of the most acclaimed and sought-after pizza shops in New York City, now sells one of the most expensive — and still-sought-after — slices in New York City, on a no-frills Brooklyn block next door to, of all places, a 99-cent store. The price of a slice increased to $5 on July 1, up from $4, the cost for the past year and a half. Just about everything else went up as well: Plain round pies are $25 and specialty square pies are $35.
There are those who have called Di Fara and left nasty messages on the answering machine, and there are those who have made a special trip to Midwood in recent days to find out what a $5 slice tastes like.
And yet, the owner, Domenico DeMarco, 72, a founder, remains undisturbed by the commotion, cutting fresh basil over bubbling pies with a pair of kitchen scissors.
“I use the top ingredients,” said Mr. DeMarco, whose accent still echoes Provincia di Caserta in Italy, where he is from; it is an ethos that adds to the Di Fara mystique, and perhaps to its prices. “Other pizzerias, I don’t think they use the top.”
The price of a slice has long been one of the city’s unofficial economic indicators, and the increase at Di Fara has led to intense analysis among New Yorkers about what, exactly, it indicates: a deepening recession, an easing of the recession, rising inflation, savvy marketing, price gouging, or commodity prices on the Chicago Mercantile Exchange? Or, simply, Mr. DeMarco — a bespectacled maverick of the New York pizza world, who insists on making every pie himself — being Mr. DeMarco.
Even Mayor Michael R. Bloomberg joined the debate, though he was careful not to say whether he was for or against a $5 slice. “The real question, relative to the local economy, is whether people are trading up from a $2.75 slice or down from a $25 entree,” the mayor said in reply to a question on Thursday. “And from what I hear in the subways and on the streets, it’s probably a mixture of both. But if you’ve ever had a really great slice of pizza, you know there are worse deals.”
And there is an underlying concern about a ripple effect. Other pizzerias “might follow suit,” said Adam Kuban, 35, the founder of Slice, a pizza-focused blog that reported the new price. “Some people might think, ‘Mine is at $2.50 or $2.75, maybe I can raise it to $3.’ ”
Behind the counters at a number of city pizzerias, the $5 Di Fara slice has sparked some grumbling. “I don’t agree with it,” said Francesco Taormina, 42, manager at Rizzo’s Fine Pizza in Astoria, Queens, where a plain slice costs $2.50. “I couldn’t possibly think of any slice that could cost that much.”
Of course, Mr. DeMarco believes his pizza is worth the money, and many of his customers believe so as well, arguing that in a city where rents, tolls and subway fares keep climbing, paying more for what many consider the best pizza in New York is entirely reasonable.
Mr. DeMarco uses imported ingredients. The flour, extra-virgin olive oil, San Marzano tomatoes, buffalo mozzarella cheese and Parmigiano-Reggiano cheese are all brought from Italy, and the basil is from Israel.
The only person who makes a Di Fara pie is Mr. DeMarco, because, in his words, “I believe only one guy should make the pizza.” When Mr. DeMarco is not available to make the pizza, Di Fara shuts its doors, as it did for several weeks in January while Mr. DeMarco recovered from a car accident.
A $5 Di Fara slice is thin and crispy, the dough a few seconds shy of burnt, topped with a tangy, subtle sauce, served on a paper plate, over a sheet of wax paper, in an overheated 44-year-old pizzeria with a worn floor, a drippy air-conditioner and a handwritten sign reading, “Bathroom is out of order.”
On Wednesday, Chris Alese, 28, an off-duty police officer, waited an hour and 20 minutes, paying $61 for two pies and four drinks for his group. “It’s unbelievable,” Mr. Alese said, referring to the taste. “You’re going to pay for quality.”
Murat Ugur, 23, was not as impressed. “So-so,” he said Thursday, biting into a slice. “A little oily.”
Margaret Mieles, Mr. DeMarco’s daughter and Di Fara’s manager, said a number of factors went into the decision to raise prices. The shop has always used expensive imported ingredients, but in the past six months Mr. DeMarco has been more generous with them, part of what she called his new “heavy hand.” As a result, she said, more supplies are being ordered more often.
The increase in the city’s sales tax was another reason Di Fara raised its prices, Mrs. Mieles said, since the tax is included in the price. (The tax rate goes up half a percentage point on Saturday.) She denied speculation that the price increase was to make up for a recent reduction in the pizzeria’s hours of operation. It used to be closed on Mondays, but is now also closed Tuesdays. Her father wanted — and needed — the rest, she said.
Those hoping the new prices are temporary, like those hoping the wait for a slice will get shorter, will be disappointed.
“We will never, ever lower the price,” Mrs. Mieles said. “It can only go up. It can never come down.”
Bobby Allyn contributed reporting.
http://www.nytimes.com/2009/07/31/ny...pizza.html?hpw
I have to come clean- I'm out of stocks, all cash or PM;
I ordered a pizza after reading this.
I COULDN'T HELP IT!
He might know (an EJ relation?)
By MANNY FERNANDEZ
Crowds form at the counter at Di Fara and spill onto the sidewalk. They are not an angry mob, but a hungry one. Some order two slices, for $10, and some, like Frank Mancino, a retired electrician from Bath Beach, Brooklyn, whose girth is a statement about his allegiance to pizza in general and Di Fara in particular, order a whole square pie, for $30.
“Worth it,” said Mr. Mancino, 64, between bites on Wednesday afternoon. “It’s like they dug up my grandma and she made the pie.”
Di Fara, one of the most acclaimed and sought-after pizza shops in New York City, now sells one of the most expensive — and still-sought-after — slices in New York City, on a no-frills Brooklyn block next door to, of all places, a 99-cent store. The price of a slice increased to $5 on July 1, up from $4, the cost for the past year and a half. Just about everything else went up as well: Plain round pies are $25 and specialty square pies are $35.
There are those who have called Di Fara and left nasty messages on the answering machine, and there are those who have made a special trip to Midwood in recent days to find out what a $5 slice tastes like.
And yet, the owner, Domenico DeMarco, 72, a founder, remains undisturbed by the commotion, cutting fresh basil over bubbling pies with a pair of kitchen scissors.
“I use the top ingredients,” said Mr. DeMarco, whose accent still echoes Provincia di Caserta in Italy, where he is from; it is an ethos that adds to the Di Fara mystique, and perhaps to its prices. “Other pizzerias, I don’t think they use the top.”
The price of a slice has long been one of the city’s unofficial economic indicators, and the increase at Di Fara has led to intense analysis among New Yorkers about what, exactly, it indicates: a deepening recession, an easing of the recession, rising inflation, savvy marketing, price gouging, or commodity prices on the Chicago Mercantile Exchange? Or, simply, Mr. DeMarco — a bespectacled maverick of the New York pizza world, who insists on making every pie himself — being Mr. DeMarco.
Even Mayor Michael R. Bloomberg joined the debate, though he was careful not to say whether he was for or against a $5 slice. “The real question, relative to the local economy, is whether people are trading up from a $2.75 slice or down from a $25 entree,” the mayor said in reply to a question on Thursday. “And from what I hear in the subways and on the streets, it’s probably a mixture of both. But if you’ve ever had a really great slice of pizza, you know there are worse deals.”
And there is an underlying concern about a ripple effect. Other pizzerias “might follow suit,” said Adam Kuban, 35, the founder of Slice, a pizza-focused blog that reported the new price. “Some people might think, ‘Mine is at $2.50 or $2.75, maybe I can raise it to $3.’ ”
Behind the counters at a number of city pizzerias, the $5 Di Fara slice has sparked some grumbling. “I don’t agree with it,” said Francesco Taormina, 42, manager at Rizzo’s Fine Pizza in Astoria, Queens, where a plain slice costs $2.50. “I couldn’t possibly think of any slice that could cost that much.”
Of course, Mr. DeMarco believes his pizza is worth the money, and many of his customers believe so as well, arguing that in a city where rents, tolls and subway fares keep climbing, paying more for what many consider the best pizza in New York is entirely reasonable.
Mr. DeMarco uses imported ingredients. The flour, extra-virgin olive oil, San Marzano tomatoes, buffalo mozzarella cheese and Parmigiano-Reggiano cheese are all brought from Italy, and the basil is from Israel.
The only person who makes a Di Fara pie is Mr. DeMarco, because, in his words, “I believe only one guy should make the pizza.” When Mr. DeMarco is not available to make the pizza, Di Fara shuts its doors, as it did for several weeks in January while Mr. DeMarco recovered from a car accident.
A $5 Di Fara slice is thin and crispy, the dough a few seconds shy of burnt, topped with a tangy, subtle sauce, served on a paper plate, over a sheet of wax paper, in an overheated 44-year-old pizzeria with a worn floor, a drippy air-conditioner and a handwritten sign reading, “Bathroom is out of order.”
On Wednesday, Chris Alese, 28, an off-duty police officer, waited an hour and 20 minutes, paying $61 for two pies and four drinks for his group. “It’s unbelievable,” Mr. Alese said, referring to the taste. “You’re going to pay for quality.”
Murat Ugur, 23, was not as impressed. “So-so,” he said Thursday, biting into a slice. “A little oily.”
Margaret Mieles, Mr. DeMarco’s daughter and Di Fara’s manager, said a number of factors went into the decision to raise prices. The shop has always used expensive imported ingredients, but in the past six months Mr. DeMarco has been more generous with them, part of what she called his new “heavy hand.” As a result, she said, more supplies are being ordered more often.
The increase in the city’s sales tax was another reason Di Fara raised its prices, Mrs. Mieles said, since the tax is included in the price. (The tax rate goes up half a percentage point on Saturday.) She denied speculation that the price increase was to make up for a recent reduction in the pizzeria’s hours of operation. It used to be closed on Mondays, but is now also closed Tuesdays. Her father wanted — and needed — the rest, she said.
Those hoping the new prices are temporary, like those hoping the wait for a slice will get shorter, will be disappointed.
“We will never, ever lower the price,” Mrs. Mieles said. “It can only go up. It can never come down.”
http://www.nytimes.com/2009/07/31/ny...pizza.html?hpw
I have to come clean- I'm out of stocks, all cash or PM;
I ordered a pizza after reading this.
I COULDN'T HELP IT!
Comment