drian, a friend from way back in the 1970s was in town recently for a vacation from British Columbia, to which he relocated almost twelve years ago.
“When I got to Vancouver I was appalled to find they had no concept of junk food as I knew it,” Adrian says. “Feeble attempts at recreating Montreal-style smoked meat failed to hit the mark. And if you asked for a Michigan there, they just looked at you with a puzzled expression.
“Worst of all was the pizza. For some strange reason they insisted on putting the toppings on last, instead of the cheese.” His face grows dark at the thought. “I soon learned that this is the North American norm, and Montreal the exception.”
It didn’t take much convincing to agree to a junk-food Tour of Montreal with an expert on the subject. We agreed that the survey could not be scientific. A mere .01mm accretion on any artery wall was agreed upon as an acceptable parameter.
We started with pizza.
“The proper Montreal pizza should have the ingredients on the bottom and the cheese on top. You should have your choice of three sizes: small, medium and large. An all-dressed should be the fanciest pizza, and that doesn’t include pineapple or artichokes or any of this Pucking crap that you find on pizza nowadays.”
Having been away in Vancouver since the mid-80s, Adrian was now eager to revisit his old haunts and relive, if only in a small way, his old Montreal bar-hopping junk-food days. His credentials? Having lived through the 70s eating junk food in Montreal.
“You can’t say that, Adrian,” I lectured foodily. “Tastes have changed, and now it’s common to have thin-crust chicken pizzas with exotic toppings. I just don’t think you’re going to find your old pie here any more.” Determined to prove me wrong, he proposed an island-wide sweep of popular pizzerias. Knowing this was impossible, I beat him down to just four. Two would be my choices, and two his.
For the first I selected Pizza Napoletana in Little Italy. This is supposed to be the oldest pizzeria in Montreal, so I was expecting a decrepit, nicotine-encrusted juke joint. Instead it was a fairly trendy, dark little space with a charming covered terrasse outside. Things did not go well for Adrian. “They only have one size here!” he hissed. “One size! And there’s no all dressed!” Sure enough, Napoletana’s pizza only comes in one size. They call it a “personal.” The pies are all of the fairly thin-crust variety, and range from the designy (pesto, smoked turkey and marinated hot peppers) to the standard: (... uhh ... okay, no standard. Not a slice of pepperoni anywhere.)
Pizza Napoletana
We got two to takeout and reheated them briefly at home on a preheated pizza stone sprinkled lightly with corn meal. Adrian’s words lashed around the room.
“The crust is too thin. There’s too little cheese. And the ingredients are on the top!” he said about the mushroom, sausage, onions and green pepper version. He was even harsher on the next one. “What-is-this?” he gritted, pointing to an olive sitting on top of the “Forcella”, with mushrooms, capicollo, mozarella and olives. “This ... olive ... still ... has ... the ... pit.” Indeed it was so. In fact, all the olives were whole and unpitted. “Sacrilege,” he muttered under his breath. I thought it was pretty good.
It was his choice next: Mikes, a junk-food pioneer of the 70s. This time we ordered the largest they had: the 18” all-dressed. It was easily the biggest pizza I have ever seen. They must have meant 18” from the center to the edge, because this thing occupied the entire kitchen counter. One-eighth slice was bigger than most small pizzas I have seen.
Mike's Pizza
“Not bad,” Adrian said, of the pepperoni, green pepper, mushroom and cheese-laden monster slice, “but the stuff is still on top!” I thought it was pretty good.
Pendeli’s was next – my choice. A friend had raved about it and others had confirmed his opinion. This one, another delivery, was an awesome beast: the “Pendeli’s Special”, all dressed plus onions, olives, anchovies and bacon. My countertop positively groaned. “This is more like it,” Adrian said finally, having “taste-tested” two eighth-sized slices. “But the toppings are still on top!”
Pendeli's Pizza
Now it was his turn. An old landmark came into view as we swung into his old neighbourhood of Cartierville. “Dona Pizza ... that’s where I always ordered from. That’s where they made the real Montreal pizza.” Except it wasn’t Dona Pizza any more. It was Nikos Pizza. “Who the hell is Nikos?” Adrian wondered, chagrined. His old haunt was gone.
“Dona, they went under a couple of years ago,” said the young guy behind the bar. “We took over.”
“They made great pizza,” Adrian said, wistfully.
“Well, we make great pizza too,” the guy said. “We’ve got people coming in from everywhere asking for the old Dona’s. So we make it their way, except better.” We ordered a large all-dressed to go. As we were getting into the car, the guy rushed out. “Don’t put it in the trunk. It’ll get tossed around. Put it in the back seat.” Impressed, I asked “Who ARE you?”
He smiled. “Nikos. I’m Nikos.”
Nikos Pizza
Back at home, we unloaded the still-hot pizza, and Adrian reacted like a little boy looking at a picture of a favoured tricycle. “That’s it! That’s the pizza I remember! And the cheese is on top!”
I must admit, I thought it was pretty damn good. -- Reviewed by Chef Nick
- Nikos Pizza Deli, 6114 Gouin West, Montreal North | Tel. (514) 331-5860
- Pendeli's Pizza, 1452 Van Horne (and numerous other locations), Outremont | Tel. (514) 271-5406
- Pizzeria Napoletana, 189 Dante, Little Italy | Tel. (514) 276-8226 | http://www.napoletana.com
- Mikes Restaurant, 5192 Côte-des-Neiges (and numerous other locations) | Tel. (514) 731-3030 | www.mikes.ca
