Pizza, reimagined at Giuseppe & Sons
The crispy, light, airy pizza has a sturdy bottom crust and outer crusts that are studded with air pockets. It’s easy eatin’.
Terrific pizza has always been a key part of Jeff Michaud’s repertoire. When he and Marc Vetri opened Osteria 12 years ago, Inquirer critic Craig LaBan wrote that the Neapolitan pies emerging from the wood-fired oven "may go down as the pizza that saved North Broad Street.”
Time marches. Vetri sold Osteria to Urban Outfitters, which in early 2018 flipped the restaurant to a partnership of Michaud and Michael Schulson.
And now with Schulson in expansion mode, with a refined, pasta-focused Italian spot called Via Locusta opening this fall at 1723 Locust St., Michaud has added pizza to the menu at the street-level luncheonette at Giuseppe & Sons, the South Philly-inspired Italian restaurant at 1523 Sansom St.
It fits perfectly with Philly’s pizza renaissance, which right now includes pizza al taglio from Alice, Rione, and the new Alimentari atop the Rittenhouse location of Di Bruno Bros.; Trenton and grandma styles from Angelo’s in South Philly; Detroit-style pies from Circles & Squares in Kensington; and the New York pies from Pizzeria Beddia in Fishtown. (Next up: a shop called Gigi and a Philly branch of New York’s Emmy Squared, across the street from each other at Fifth and Bainbridge Streets.)
Michaud’s pizzas at Giuseppe & Sons are not Neapolitan, with their puffy outer edges and soupy centers. They’re not thin-crust Roman-style, either. Or pizza al taglio or Sicilian (aka “grandma”).
Michaud’s doughs use a mixture of Lancaster-grown hard red winter wheat flour (“warthog”) from Castle Valley Mill and a high-protein, high-gluten flour. Then they get a 40- to 50-hour fermentation before stretching. The pies cook at 625 or 650 degrees — opposed to Neapolitan pizza’s 900-degree ovens.
Also significant (since I’m geeking out a bit about pizza making) is Michaud’s use of an electric oven at Giuseppe’s.
Quite simply, he said, they’re easier to manage than a wood-fired oven, even one that is gas-assisted. Michaud scoffs at the notion that wood-fired Neapolitan ovens impart a smoky flavor because of two factors: smoke rises and it can’t do much, flavorwise, in 90 seconds. (It’s also important to note that he and Schulson have not changed a thing with the pizza at Osteria.)
The result is crispy, light, airy pizza whose bottoms are sturdy and whose outer crusts are studded with air pockets. It’s easy eatin’. Even the more heavily topped varieties won’t weigh you down.
Varieties include a margherita ($11); Napoletano with spicy salame, fiorella pepper, and buffalo mozzarella ($15); marinara e acciughe with tomato, garlic, and anchovy ($13); olive ($13), with pesto, Taggiasca olive, mozzarella, and pecorina Toscana; funghi crudi ($14) with shaved mushroom, trifolati, fontina, and arugula; quatto formaggi ($14) with gorgonzola, fontina, mozzarella, parmigiano; and zucchini ($13) with ricotta, red onion, mozzarella, and pistachio.