A Slice
   of
    Life
Lessley Anderson  

I l l u s t r a t i o n : A d a m + P o w e l l



Giorgio's Pizzeria, located at 151 Clement Street in San Francisco, is open daily from 11:30 a.m. to 11:00 p.m.
  This is the true story of one woman's attempt to find a decent slice of pizza within the San Franciso city limits....

In the bleak spring, summer, fall, and winter of last year, I was plagued by a relentless craving and tortured by one seemingly unanswerable question: If the food is so good here in San Francisco, where can I get a decent pizza?

For one full year I tried dozens of pizzerias - the best that each of the diverse San Francisco neighborhoods had to offer - from dives advertising "real New York-style pizza" to the divine Cali wood-fired pies, but never finding the Real McCoy.

Then, one vaporous evening, I stumbled upon Giorgio's Pizzeria. Its old-fashioned neon sign shone like a beacon of hope through the perma-fog of the Richmond district. Finally, one year later, I was satiated: I had found a piping hot, perfectly seasoned, deliciously true New York-style pizza in a San Francisco neighborhood renowned for its Chinese and Vietnamese restaurants. 









































  


Giorgio's Pizzeria was founded in the mid-'70s by a family so
authentically New York, they were rumored to be mobsters. In 1978,
ownership changed hands and brothers Tony and Victor Contini got made
and took over the joint. Now 19 years later, the middle-aged brothers
still make the pizzas.


Victor's wife works the cash register. Soccer trophies and old
pictures of the Contini children's little league teams (sponsored by
Giorgio's) keep you company in the crowded foyer while you wait for a
table. It could be New York. Dark oil paintings of Chianti bottles and
fruit decorate the wood-paneled walls, flanking each red vinyl booth and
plastic vines and more Chianti bottles hang from the ceiling.




































 
   

Tony Contini lyrically denounces current pizza trends. "Wood-fired has been
around a long time," he notes, referring to the "shi-shi" pizza gracing
the menus of many of San Francisco's best restaurants. "It's not what
you call it that makes it good. It's all about the ingredients."


"We wanted to make a New York-style pizza," Tony says. "Giorgio's is
an old-fashioned pizzeria ... that's where our roots are."  Though Tony
maintains that the Contini's have "no big budget" for advertising, the
place is packed most nights.


For the die-hard Californians, there is a special section on
the menu that conceeds to "new" toppings, including feta, pesto, fresh
tomatoes, artichoke hearts, and spinach (for twice the price of the
traditional items).  Try the pesto - it's a unique, pungently fresh and
salty blend.

















































  































Giorgio's pizza arrives smoking hot and is placed on a stand beside
the table. The first bite confirms that your eyes did not deceive: you
are eating pizza in California with rich, gooey cheese; a thin, crisp
crust brushed with olive oil; a sauce so sweet that carries only the
lightest undertones of fresh basil and oregano. "Forget about it!"


What makes the sauce so good? "It's so simple," Tony says, "it's the
tomato." Since the Giorgio's sauce is homemade from crushed tomatoes,
with little doctoring in terms of spice, they start with the best
organic fruits.  "We taste the product right up front. If a vendor can
bring us a can of crushed tomatoes that tastes sweeter than our old guy
at a competitive price, then we'll do that. There's no allegiance to
specific brands, only to quality."



 


























The brothers haven't raised their prices in three years, and with the
exception of the "more trendy" toppings on the menu, the pizza and
the pizzeria haven't changed much since 1978 - and that's a good thing.


Giorgio's Pizza is on the corner of 3rd Avenue and Clement Street, in the
Inner Richmond. Tony's the one with the glasses and Victor is the one
watching the restaurant with a steady eye from behind the plexiglass
divider. One other bonus: Giorgio's music selection hasn't changed much
since 1978 either, so don't forget to bring loose change for the jukebox if you
like disco.













































Lessley Anderson works in the Media Relations department at Wired magazine,
and is learning to play Scruggs-style banjo in her spare time.






















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