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Long Island's Grandma Pizza- Thanks Umberto(s)
I don’t know Long Island. I hardly ever go there. Well, I guess I know a little, like how it takes an hour and a half to drive 18 miles.
My dad had a baby girl in 1964 that nobody knew about until 2020. She and her family live on Long Island. Thanks to a DNA test, I know about that.
Ina Garten. Summer in a Bottle. Didd... wait, I mean the Hamptons' parties… see I know a little.
And I know that the Grandma Pizza style was made famous on Long Island.
Notice I didn’t say invented. If I had, I would have caused the earth to tremble with a thousand nonnas turning in their graves at once.
The super-thin, cheesy, rectangular pizza, with its crispy undercarriage and savory tomato sauce, had been made in Italian-American kitchens for generations. Long before anyone thought to give it a catchy name, Italian grandmothers were stretching dough into ordinary household pans, topping them with whatever ingredients were available, and feeding their families.
It was akin to the square bakery pizzas found in Philly and Utica. Nothing particularly fancy, certainly nothing that required a wood-burning oven, and originally something that wasn't even supposed to be sold.
But somewhere along the way, this humble creation left the kitchen and became a pizza sensation, complete with a disputed origin story.
A Skinny Sicilian Pizza?
The Original Umberto's
Umberto Corteo opened Umberto’s on Jericho Turnpike in New Hyde Park in 1965. The story goes that the Naples native would ask his brother to make a pizza like their mom used to—stretched thin and baked in a pan with dots of sauce above the cheese.
For years, it was enjoyed by workers and the occasional fortunate friend in the right place at the right time. But it wasn't something you'd find on the regular menu. Not right away, at least.
It was actually two pizzaiolos, Ciro Cesarano and Angelo Giangrande, who sometime int he early '90's helped bring the humble pie from the back kitchen to the paying public at King Umberto's in nearby Elmont. Originally a satellite of the Umberto family business, the restaurant was sold to new owners in 1976, but Grandma Pizza remained part of its culinary heritage.
Originally unnamed, this anemic-looking Sicilian Pie reportedly earned its moniker when a restaurant regular tasted it and declared that it reminded him of what his nonna used to make.
Unlike some other regional styles that stay put for decades before making waves at a pizza expo, Grandma Pizza didn't grow roots. It quickly spread into Queens, across New York City, and eventually over the Hudson into Jersey.
Nowadays, much like its thick-cut Sicilian cousin or the traditional New York round pie, Grandma Pizza has become another omnipresent canvas for just about any topping imaginable.
So, who made it first? I say...
Original Umberto's made it a hot line. King Umberto made it a hot song! And both make it delicous.
