V&T, Where You Can Disappear into Your Own New York Pizza Story
I guess it's well-known to Columbia alum but l'd never heard about V&T in Morningside Heights 'til my Daily Beast editor Noah Rothbaum asked if I'd been. He compared it to Boboli, which wouldn't rush me up, but photos of the old-school environs & neon notched it on my to-do list.
V&T refers to Vincent & Tony Curcurato. Per its site, in 1945, these two vets returned from WWII and opened the 'V&T' at 122nd street & Amsterdam. "Before the war, the brothers worked in an Italian bakery in East Harlem, where they learned the fine art of thin-crust pizza making. In 1951, they moved down the street to their current location on Amsterdam between 110th & 111th streets."
According to Forbes, it was once Art Garfunkel's favorite pie spot.
During lunch they do a 10-inch "mini-pie" or a 12-inch. The dinner menu features 14-, 16-, & 18-inch pies. Twenty-eight different toppings, including a salad pie & fresh garlic, something I last recall seeing at Sam's.
I order a plain pie, which smells strongly but pleasantly of garlic. There's a soft, pliable crust, a haphazard cheese scattering, and a thick rim of sauce around the inside of the cornicione, one that's slightly sweet and soft. Mesh marks on the bottom betray a tray-cook.
It's a nice little place, mostly for the red-checked tablecloths and old-school vibe. There are diner mints next to the organ up front. You expect a cig machine. Students, faculty, a place you could hide from daily life if you wanted to.
Though cheese does pull between the slices, and reluctantly at your heart strings, not so strongly enough to bring you back.