Eats
Two Village pizzerias cook up
ways to survive pandemic
BY ELAINA BERNSTEIN
Pizza is NYC’s most communal meal;
nothing brings people together like
sloppily tearing apart a warm pie
along a West Village side street at 1 am.
It’s an I Moved To NYC rite of passage.
It’s also the city’s most competitive meal–
meaning, you can (and will) get questioned,
kindly but secretly judgmentally, about said
pizza. Before you can answer a suspecting
interrogation, just know you’re wrong and
they’re right. When I moved to the West
Village, John and Joe became more than
names, but rather conversation starters
(or enders), and the “right,” “wrong,” and
“shameful” ways to eat (and fold) a slice of
pizza became second hand.
But enter a global pandemic, condensing
communities and eliminating opportunities
for drunken escapades and communal
meals. With COVID-19 ravaging the restaurant
industry, how did the meal that we
turned to during the pandemic survive the
pandemic itself? John’s of Bleecker Street
Pizzeria, struggling to adapt to an empty
restaurant, made staff cuts and installed
plexiglas between tables. Unregular Pizza,
whose brick-and-mortar store opened in
March, hired more employees and reached
more customers than ever before.
John’s: Where Tradition
Triumphs
“Nothing has really changed,” manager
David Frank tells me. Unlike its complex
history, John’s menu is simple, succinct and,
for the most part, stationary. The restaurant
still uses Sasso’s original recipe and coalfi
ring technique. The sauce still goes over
the cheese. And still, no slices are allowed.
Most employees have worked there for over
30 years. Frank describes it as a “continuous
line”: all of the chefs learned directly
from their chef-predecessors. “It’s pretty
simple. We don’t do anything extravagant,”
Frank explains, stating the only major
changes have been in dish presentation…
Until COVID-19 poisoned Johns’ ritualistic,
communal allure. Following dining
restrictions, John’s transitioned to deliveryonly;
for the fi rst time since 1938, John’s
was empty. Not only was John’s stripped
of its community of beloved customers, but
the staff, or as Frank calls, “family,” began
dwindling down as well. “It was tough making
rent… we cut down to the minimum,”
Frank recalls. Initially, “outdoor seating”
was just a few tables out front, but thanks
to considerate neighbors, John’s was able
to build an extended structure.
An eight-slice pie ranges from $22 for
a traditional pie (“The Sasso”) to $48 for
“The Fifty,” Johns’ most elaborate pie that
consists of meatballs, pepperoni, sausage,
mushrooms, peppers and olives. This is as
elaborate as it gets, with a strict “no substitutions”
rule and standard toppings; “the
worst is when customers ask for ranch…
John’s will never have ranch,” Frank says.
Johns’ indoor dining room is open again
and, just like pre-pandemic times, there is
often a line of eager customers and seldom
an empty seat. But it still doesn’t feel the
same; plexiglas posts physically divide the
John’s devoted customers from the staff and
each other. “It’s more than just a physical
divide… There is a psychological divide.
You feel less connected to people.”
‘Unregular’ Timing
for Unregular Pizza
In 2008, Gabriele Lamonaca moved to
NYC from his hometown of Rome, where
he attended St. Francis College and studied
chemistry; he wanted to be a doctor. He
now owns Unregular Pizza. Lamonaca
is used to taking an unregular path. The
pandemic was the perfect unregular path.
Lamonaca has worked in restaurants
throughout the city, yet the most pivotal
moment for the chef was getting laid off
mid-pandemic. Lamonica could focus on
his lifelong goal: to open a restaurant. He
wanted to bring Roman-style pizza to NYC;
the dough takes 72 hours to level, making
the pizza light and easily digestible.
He spent his time at home experimenting
with new recipes. In March 2020, his
girlfriend and head of marketing, Paola
Sinisgalli, launched an Instagram for
Lamonaca’s “experiments”, calling it “Unregular
Pizza.” The name draws focus to
the variety of creations and toppings such
as pistachio ricotta and fried chicken. Every
slice, averaging between six and seven dollars,
is customizable.
“We were looking for a place to open
before the pandemic and the deal didn’t go
through… then the pandemic came and we
thought ‘now it’s really the worst timing’…
but it was a blessing,” Sinisgalli tells me.
Unregular Pizza quickly gained traction on
social media, as the couple’s friends began
reaching out to request pies. “But we didn’t
want to charge them!” Sinisgalli explains;
it was out of this dilemma that the barter
system was born.
The fi rst offi cial “barter” occurred
in May 2020. With no brick-and-mortar
store, Lamonaca was cooking from his
own kitchen. “Everyone was cooking new
things then, so I asked friends to give me
something they made in return,” Lamonaca
tells me, as a line of customers grows behind
him. Lamonaca and Sinisgallii biked
to Harlem to deliver their friend pizzas, and
PHOTO BY ELAINA BERNSTEIN
in return, she sent cocktails.
Initially, the couple bartered solely with
people they knew, receiving dishes ranging
from homemade Italian pastas to Asian-style
fried chicken. Sinisgalli explains that the bartering
system is not an entirely modern concept,
but is one with historical roots. “I was
reading a book that my dad wrote during the
pandemic about my grandfather in southern
Italy… and instead of accepting money for
food, they would accept eggs, chickens, or
sausage.” Lamonaca experimented with
recipes based on consumer feedback, and
eventually solidifi ed a rather extensive menu,
featuring their signature “Burrapizza”: a slice
of pizza with a full burrata on top.
In September 2020, Unregular Pizza
fi nally had a home that wasn’t Lamonaca’s:
135 4th Ave. “It was a dream location… it
would have never been possible without the
pandemic,” Sinisgalli refl ects.
December 2020 marked the fi rst barterto
a-stranger. Sinisgalli describes what followed
to be a “media storm, and towards
the end of 2020, Unregular Pizza began
approaching coveted “virality.” Barters
not only expanded beyond the couple’s
personal network, but also beyond just
food items. Offers ranged from electric
toothbrushes and eclectic pottery, to hotel
stays, horseback riding lessons, and eventually,
a billboard in Times Square. “People
started to offer what they were good at…
they could show off their talent… it was
special,” Lamonaca explains.
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