A pepperoni pizza
14 September 2020
That the word pizza comes from Italian should be of no surprise to anyone, but that’s not the entire story. Piza or pizza appears in medieval Latin in central Italy by the end of the tenth century with the meaning of flat bread. Pizza as we know it today, with tomato sauce, cheese, and other savory toppings, arose in Naples in the early sixteenth century.
Pizza starts appearing in English in the early nineteenth century in the writings of British travelers to Italy, but these early instances are all in the context of Italy. For instance, one of the earliest appears in the diary of Frances Bunsen, a Welsh painter and baroness, for 13 October 1825:
The name of our host is Angiolotti, a rich possidente, or farmer, from whom and his wife we have received great civilities. We were the day before yesterday at their farm, or tenuta, where the vintage is going on. They gave us ham, and cheese, and frittata and pizza, and wine, and grapes as much as we could eat.
At the turn of the twentieth century the word pizza starts appearing in the Americas, but at first it´s just the word, not the thing itself, as composer Pietro Mascagni discovered on his 1902–03 tour of North America. From the Morning Journal Gazette of Fort Wayne, Indiana on 15 December 1902:
As a matter of fact his yearning was so great that he did go to the edge of the ditch and cry aloud, "Pizza Neapolitana," and though his compatriots came swarming up the ladders in answer to his cry, and strained him to their clayey bosoms. It was only to echo in mournful refrain "New Yorka nou maka pizza!"
Mascagni could have wept.
But nine months later pizza, both the word and the thing, could be found in New York, as reported in the Evening Telegram of 21 September 1903, but the word isn’t yet fully Anglicized:
Student [sic] of the quarter says that pizze cavuie and taraluccio, eaten with beer, are a delicacy in Mulberry street. Wonder if this is the germ of the vendetta and the Blackmailing Brotherhood of the Black Hand?
A month later it is recorded in Boston, with a full description that shows that what the reporter is writing about is what we know today as pizza. From the Boston Sunday Journal of 4 October 1903:
Scattered throughout North and Prince streets and other portions of the Italian colony where Neapolitans congregate are occasional little shops with the words "Pizze Cavuie" on the windows. The words mean simply "hot cakes" in the Neapolitan dialect. But only a traveler would know that pizze are one of the famous products of Naples, eaten by rich and poor, high and low, and dutifully partaken of by every tourist as one of the features that must be "done" in order to say that one has seen Naples. The devotion of the American race to pie is a poor thing in comparison with that of the Neapolitans for their pizze.
[...]
In behind, two Neapolitan bakers, clothed in white, are baking pizze from morning till night, and almost from night till morning. Quantities of dough are kept prepared, made in fat rolls. The baker takes a roll, and with a few deft slaps flattens it as flat as a pancake, but somewhat thicker and a little larger than an ordinary pie. Then he dabs bits of lard on its surface. Over this he sprinkles grated cheese, from a dish which stands always full beside him. Then he pours on cooked tomato, and on top of that he throws a handful of aregata, the spicy aromatic herb which is such a favorite of Italian seasoning. The cheese used is the Roman, so much employed for culinary purposes. The whole operation has not taken him more than a minute. Then he slaps it on a broad, flat, long-handled paddle, and thrusts it into the furnace oven. In two minutes it is done.
It comes to the table on a big, flat pewter plate. Ordinarily individual plates are not furnished or required, for every true Neapolitan takes his piece pf pizze, folds it over so that the crust is outside, and eats it from the hand. The pastry seems to be a cross between bread dough and pie crust, and is not lacking in suggestions that when cold it might lie somewhat heavily upon the unaccustomed interior. But as a whole the confection is enticing, by reason of its delectable hotness and crispness, and the cunning blend of spicy flavors for which it is renowned. It is probably indigestible, but certainly not more so than Welsh rarebit.
The word is fully Anglicized and becoming a staple of the American diet by the 1930s. From the Hartford Courant of 19 March 1936:
There is, of course, a form of tomato pie that is not to be sneezed at, except by rock-ribbed New Englanders. That is Italian pizza, and long may it wave. The pizza cook cannot be any Italian. He must be a Neapolitan, for only in Naples does it reach its perfection. There is at least one Neapolitan making pizza in Hartford, and he’s an artist at his trade.
The use of tomato pie in the above quotation brings to mind another name for pizza, one that is rarely found nowadays, but was common in the greater New York City area in the twentieth century.
There are two distinct types of tomato pie. The first is nothing like a pizza and has nothing to do with Italy. It is simply a pie made with tomatoes, like one would make an apple or cherry pie. Starting in New England in the early nineteenth century, references to tomato pies gradually spread and were common into the early twentieth century.
The earliest reference I have found to this type of tomato pie is a three-line article with the headline “Tomato Pie” in the Boston Investigator of 6 April 1838. Unfortunately, the article is written in a reformed spelling style, as was common in newspapers of the era, and that, coupled with a less-than-good digital scan, makes it impossible to read what the three lines say.
But a few months later a full description of tomato pie appears in the Vermont Chronicle of 3 October 1838:
Tomato Pies equal to the fine English Gooseberry Pies.—The other day we partook, for the first time, of a Tomato Pie, and were so much pleased with the treat, that we inquired into the mode of making them. The tomatoes are skinned, sliced, and after being mixed with sugar, are prepared in the same manner as other pies. The tomato is likely to become one of the most useful of plants.—Springfield Pioneer.
So much for the first type of tomato pie. The second type of tomato pie is essentially a pizza, although aficionados of the dish will claim there are significant differences. This tomato pie could be found New York, Connecticut, New Jersey, and eastern Pennsylvania. This tomato pie appears in New York at the same time as pizza. From the New York Tribune of 6 December 1903:
Pie has usually been considered a Yankee dish exclusively, but apparently the Italian has invented a kind of pie. The “pomidore pizza,” or tomato pie, is made in this fashion. Take a lump of dough, and, under a roller, flatten it out until it is only an inch thick. On this scatter tomatoes and season plentifully with powdered red pepper. Then bake the compound. “Salami pizza,” or bologna pie, is made with this under a layer of dough and a combination of tomatoes, cheese, red peppers and bologna. To use a slang expression, this might be said to be a “red hot” combination.
The Dictionary of American Regional English (DARE) records the following in a 1942 New Haven, Connecticut telephone directory:
Frank Pepe Old Reliable Neapolitan Tomato Pies.
And from 2002 DARE has from New Jersey:
“Pie” is used by non-Italians. Short for “pizza pie” or “tomato pie.” (This last is an old usage. I haven’t heard it since my early childhood, but you can still see painted signs advertising “tomato pies” on the Jersey Shore.)
Also from DARE is this description of tomato pie collected from the internet in 2003:
Where I grew up near Trenton, NJ it was always tomato pie ... In Trenton at least, tomato pie is distinct from pizza, the distinction being the use of smushed canned tomatoes on the pie rather than a pizza sauce. Even in Trenton, though, many people don’t make the distinction.
Black and white photo of Maruca’s Pizza, Seaside Heights, New Jersey, c.1960s; a sign advertises pizza and a man’s t-shirt reads Maruca’s Tomato Pie
When I worked on the Seaside Heights, New Jersey boardwalk in the 1980s, I worked a stand opposite Maruca’s Tomato Pies. Founded in 1950, they’re still there and still feature tomato pies on their signage.
So far, we’ve been talking about New York-style pizza, but perhaps the fiercest debate over pizza is between that and deep-dish or Chicago-style pizza. Of the two, New York-style is the oldest and closest to the Neapolitan original.
Chicago-style pizza was allegedly invented at the original Pizzeria Uno in Chicago in 1943, but while I have found no reason to doubt the claim, I have found no documentary evidence for it either. The earliest reference to deep-dish pizza I have found is this horror from the Atlanta Constitution of 3 June 1955:
This variation of a deep-dish pie, a pizza pie and a hamburger casserole offers a thrifty homemaker a flavorful, hearty and colorful dinner-in-one.
And there is this abomination in the St. Louis Post-Dispatch of 9 March 1961:
Deep Dish Tuna Mushroom Pizza
The first reference to Chicago-style pizza that I’m aware of appears in the San Francisco Chronicle three days later, signaling that by this date deep-dish pizza was widely associated with Chicago:
BIG AL’S GASHOUSE—Roaring ‘20s funspot of the Peninsula. Speakeasy atmosphere, top banjo stars every night. German brass band concerts Wednesdays and Sundays. Chicago-style pizza. 4335 El Camino, Palo Alto.
And by the end of the decade the debate was on and the gloves off in this comparison of Chicago and New York styles in the Chicago Tribune of 26 May 1969:
Then he went to New York, where he sold advertising for THE TRIBUNE and for the Wall Street Journal. Goldberg compares New York pizza to “wallpaper smeared with red paint,” which is not a nice thing to say about wallpaper and red paint. In New York, pizza is usually sold by the slice. It’s a snack, not a meal.
One day Goldberg and a friend, Reva Rose, a Chicago actress who originated the role of Lucy in the off-Broadway musical, “You’re a Good Man, Charlie Brown,” were reminiscing about the pizza they used to get in Chicago.
They both missed it.
So that’s it, pizza has made a millennium-long journey, crossing an ocean in the process.
Sources:
“Agricultural.” Vermont Chronicle (Windsor, Vermont), 3 October 1838, 4. NewsBank: America’s Historical Newspapers.
“The Cries of War and Festival.” Evening Telegram (New York), 21 September 1903. 4. Fulton History.
“Deep Dish Pizza Pie Casserole.” Atlanta Constitution, 3 June 1955, 34. ProQuest Historical Newspapers.
Dictionary of American Regional English (DARE), 2013, s.v. tomato pie, n.
“Do Fiery Foods Cause Fiery Natures?” New York Tribune, 6 December 1903, B5. ProQuest.
Hare, Augustus J. C. The Life and Letters of Frances Baroness Bunsen, vol 1 of 2. New York: G. Routledge, 1879. 254.
“‘Hot Cakes’ in North Street.” Boston Sunday Journal, 4 October 1903, 12. Newsbank: America’s Historical Newspapers.
“Look What You Can Do with a Can of Tuna.” St. Louis Post-Dispatch, 9 March 1961, 1D. ProQuest Historical Newspapers.
“On the Town: Night Clubs.” San Francisco Sunday Chronicle, 12 March 1961, 12 / 135. NewsBank: America’s Historical Newspapers.
Oxford English Dictionary, third edition, June 2006, s.v. pizza, n.
Peterson, Clarence. “A Pizzeria by the Name of Goldberg’s.” Chicago Tribune, 26 May 1969, B5. ProQuest.
Popik, Barry. “Pizza.” The Big Apple, 30 July 2004.
Rosenfeld, Genie. “Mascagni and His Favorite Dish, Pizza Neapolitana.” Morning Journal Gazette (Fort Wayne, Indiana), 15 December 1902, 6. Newspaperarchive.com.
“Tomato Pie.” Boston Investigator, 6 April 1838, 3. NewsBank: America’s Historical Newspapers.
W.J.F. “The Lighter Side: Man-Eating Ground Cherry.” The Hartford Courant, 19 March 1936, 14. ProQuest Historical Newspapers.
Photo credits: Pepperoni pizza, Alexandroff Pogrebnoj, 2013, Wikimedia Commons, used under a Creative Commons Attribution 2.5 Generic license; and Maruca’s Pizza.
