Nunzio’s Pizzeria

Nunzio’s is the definition of a local joint. It is packed with regulars who seem to have been eating here all their lives. Most follow the same unhurried schedule. Start with some salads or pasta while waiting for a hand-stretched pizza to bake. Bottles of self-catered wine on almost every table help pass a slow meal. Plan ahead, as there aren’t any liquor stores very close.

Open only for a few hours a night, Nunzio’s feels like a private super club. The owner, “Snookie,” comes out to every table to make sure that everyone’s happy. If you don’t finish everything, you will be given a friendly interrogation.

Pasta comes in family-sized portions — a satiating prelude to pizza. We didn’t enjoy our rigatoni as much as we wanted to, mostly because of stylistic quibbles. The sausage is plain and the garlic too aggressive for us (and we love garlic). Considering the higher quality of the pizza, we’ll save our carbs for that and maybe just start with a salad next time. 

Meatballs, our usual gauge of an Italian-American restaurant’s abilities, are very soft. The seasoning is subtle and gets carried off by the zestier flavors of the red sauce they float in. We’d give them a solid “B.”

Pizza is very thin-crust with lots of sweet sauce and a tasteful amount of milky cheese on top. The crust is baked to the verge of charing. All considered, it was closer in quality to what you’d expect to find on Staten “Pizza” Island than on the Shore.

We like ours with “extra special” toppings, meaning sausage, peppers and mushrooms. The crumbled sausage on the pizza is much better than the sausage coins in the pasta, enhancing the pie’s soft textures and sweet flavors.

We recommend going with plain cheese. The crust is so delicate that toppings weigh it down. It’s that ultra-thin crust, along with old-school charm, that makes Nunzio’s a worthy destination. A large plain pie here is still almost half the price of what they go for over the Verrazano Bridge.