A family trip to Aiello's
These institutions serve as bridges between generations, a familiar place to meet
Hi there fellow pizza enthusiasts. Honestly, pizza news is kind of light this week. What can we chop that up to? The cold December winds blowing in freezing all yeast related activity? Pizza shops going into hibernation, tinkering in their laboratory perfecting their pizzas for 2022? Pizza parlor owners hosting many a corporate event? Maybe all the above.
So that leaves us room to talk about one of the most important aspects of pizza: How pizza bring everyone together and the comforting majesty of a pizza parlor.
The sun comes up…I think about pizza…
Growing up in the North Hills of Pittsburgh our family’s go-to pizza shop was Luciano’s. Luciano’s is a fine pizzeria, they do the New York-by-Pittsburgh Style of pizza quite well. Floppy slices, mix of provolone and mozzarella, slightly greasy. The kind of pizza you can gulp down four or five slices before your stomach realizes how filled it is. Plus, you can gnaw on the crust until your saliva softens it enough to swallow down.
Pizza was a staple in our house, but we never ventured into the city for a slice. And honestly why would we? The North Hills is host to a handful of wonderful pizza places. Classic shops like Monte Cello’s and unique pizzerias like Sir Pizza with their tiny square slices. No matter your preference the North Hills had a pizza shop for you and your family. Each home in the suburbs loyally aligned themselves with one of the many pizza houses for Friday night battles.
The suburban pizza shops lack the authentic feeling of the shops in the city. Everyone going to the suburban shops are the same, almost no interesting characters. The insides are cookie cutter. You have a small lobby where you wait to be seated. A host stand, maybe a coat rack. To the right is a cooler playing host to Coke or Pepsi products. Maybe you can see into the kitchen otherwise the pizza magic happens behind a maze of tables and chairs scattered throughout the dining room.
But in the city, you were walking into a spectacle. Mineo’s and Aiello’s are putting on a pizza show and you happen to have front row seat to the Cirque De Solei of pizza making. Watch as an old Italian man stretches hunks of dough as if they were pieces of taffy. Watch as an old Italian man quickly, but accurately, spreads a ladle of sauce onto that stretched dough then makes it rain a mix of freshly shredded provolone and mozzarella. Then, watch as an old Italian man, armed with a pizza peel, carefully shuffles pizzas around a 100 year old gas oven ensuring that each pizza is cooked perfectly.
I wouldn’t have tasted the grease piles of Mineo’s or Aiello’s until I came home from college and decided to explore more of the most livable city. Turns out there’s a lot of pizza hidden in those rolling hills.
Eventually my wife and I would move into an apartment behind Mineo’s where we would find any excuse to not make the salmon in our refrigerator and instead go to Mineo’s. Excuses include:
Traffic was really bad on the way home and I’m too exhausted to make the salmon.
The snow is coming down pretty hard, we should venture out real quick to get a pizza and six pack from Mineo’s.
It’s too hot to cook, let’s grab a piping hot pizza.
That salmon is probably expired, we should just get pizza.
Sometimes we would hit up Aiello’s, but having to walk another block or two was hardly justifiable. And plus, is there really a difference in there pizzas?
We are a pizza family, my father sister and me
While my life eventually entered the strong gravitational pull of Mineo’s and Aiello’s, my trips soon became sparse. We moved to the other side of town and were surrounded by the pull of dozens of new pizza shops to explore. Fazio’s, Graziano’s, Spak, Pizza Italia, Caliente, etc. An entirely different galaxy of pizza to chart.
So it was a pleasant to return recently to Aiello’s with my dad and sister. My dad “famously” knew the founder of Aiello’s from when he worked one day at Mineo’s. This was before Joe Aiello split from Mineo’s to make his own pizzas. My dad had a job at Mineo’s but only lasted a day. His critical failure was that he spread the sauce too slowly on the dough. A precious supply chain and there he was, a little wrench wanting to help, but jammed innocently in the guts of the machine grinding it to a halt.
Maybe that’s why he now prefers Aiello’s to Mineo’s. Over the Thanksgiving we found ourselves in Squirrel Hill to view the film The French Dispatch. The only appropriate thing to do after feasting on 108 minutes of a Wes Anderson film is to feast on the cheesiest pizza you can find. There’s no harm in overloading the body with every sensation at once.
While Aiello’s had been renovated since we last went, the beats and charm was so familiar. We ordered a pizza, got a few drinks and sat in a booth waiting for our pie. The pizza parlor experience is one of the greatest experiences any family unit can experience together. In fact, I still dream about the time when I can take my daughter to a pizza parlor with big booths to share a pizza. Hanging out in the back of Aiello’s was a sensation I’ll relish for ages.
And when the pizza comes out, it’s exactly how you expect. It’s definitely circular. There’s a layer of impenetrable cheese on there. The cheese has already oozed into where the pizza was sliced, filling the space between like a moat. And hidden throughout the pizza are pieces of sausage and peppers.
Without missing a beat everyone grabs a slice, chatting, laughing, and, soon, burning their mouths.
I guess the morale of this story is that if you’re looking for a family event this holiday season, or just a reason to hang out with a pal, visit your local pizza parlor.
Feel free to leave a comment letting me know what pizza parlors I need to check out!
Pizza ya later!
-Dan Tallarico
Dan, great story - Aiello's to me is the bets pizza in the Burgh!