Fat Cat Pie Co

Norwalk, CT
http://www.fatcatpie.com/ = the worst website ever. Seriously.

As we all know, and as the Stamford Pizza Tour folks constantly remind us, Stamford is saturated with pizza places. There’s a slice for every occasion – Colony when I crave that salty, greasy, deliciousness, Coalhouse when I want to enjoy my pizza with an amazing beer, Remo’s for that classic, fresh, saucy feel, and of course that place around the corner that delivers for those times when I can’t seem to pry myself off the couch. With all of these amazing choices, and many more, why would I leave Stamford for a piece of pizza? Fat Cat Pie Co in Norwalk is one reason.

I like thin crust pies. Fat Cat’s crust is about is thin as it gets. Thin Lizzy would endorse it. In fact, they probably give you the least amount of substance possible for a 13” pizza. You’d be disappointed if you tried to share a pizza with someone, as you’ll have no trouble putting one back on your own. Although small, the crackery crust gives the pies a nice snappy crunch, and just enough support for a thin layer of sauce, and a light sprinkling of cheese and toppings. It’s a minimalistic pie, and it’s not exactly a bargain.

With all of that said, you might be wondering why I just told you to venture outside the nest to try it. Because Fat Cat’s different. It feels more like a wine bar than a pizza place. It’s a dimly lit open room with exposed brick walls and a chill vibe. They have a decent selection of wine and usually a few unexpected craft beers on tap, accompanied by a decent bottle menu. Unlike most pizza places, it’s unlikely that you’ll see Fat Cat overrun with children and families. The ingredients are fresh, all organic, and they serve tasty salads, cheese, fresh baked local breads and delicious coffee. So go ahead, give it a try when you’re looking for something a little different than your old standbys.

They give you variety of Penzey's spices to top your pizza

Here’s our recommendations:

Nona Massini’s sliced meatballs – real, tasty, meatballs. Not just a clump of ground beef.
Seasonal spicy peppers – these fresh peppers add a lot of zing to your pie. Moderate heat.
Breakfast pizza – Local eggs and cheese on a buttered pizza crust.

-Kyle

Coalhouse Victory Bacon Beer Dinner

At FPB, we love bacon. We love beer. We love dinner. So it’s no surprise that we would love a bacon beer dinner.

That’s exactly what we were treated to Monday night at Coalhouse Pizza (our review) - five delicious courses featuring everyone’s favorite cut of piggy. Five hoppy delights from the excellent Victory Brewing Company out of Downington, PA. The pairings, meticulously crafted by our blogger buddies over at OmNomCT, were a wonderful work of bacony, beery art.

In a normal review, this would be the part where I’d go through each of the recipes and each of the beers. However, on a night where we ate like Timothy McVeigh minutes before his execution, I think I’ll spare you the details. Instead, I’ll run through some quick highlights.

-The bacon blues salad gave new life to the phrase “beauty in simplicity.” It was also paired with Victory Headwaters Pale Ale, which kicks all kinds of ass.

-The Hawaiian Pizza with thick-cut bacon and habañero (Did I have to google “Spanish ‘N’ and copy and paste it just now? You bet) peppers was surprisingly delicious and balanced, and would probably be added to the menu permanently if Gerard could think of a Hawaiian blues song. (Dick Dale – Misirlou?).

-The Victory Storm King Stout Butterbeer was a really inventive, different, and delicious way to incorporate the beer into the dinner. Kudos to OmNom (and Harry Potter) for thinking outside the box on this one.

-Kyle spilled water all over Kristien from OmNom. I feel it’s my duty as a ball-buster to mention this in the post.

All in all, it was a fabulous night and one my arteries will never forget.

Cheers,
Ryan

P.S. - For nostalgia's sake, check out our writeup of the Oskar Blues beer dinner, which took place nearly a year ago to the day.

Oskar Blues Beer Dinner

Rowayton Pizza

Norwalk, CT
http://www.rowaytonpizza.com/

Rowayton, Connecticut is like a pre-op transsexual. It was born a part of Norwalk, but it’s never really felt like it belongs there. It belongs in Darien. You see, growing up, Rowayton always knew it was different. While the other neighborhoods in Norwalk allowed used cars, strip malls, and non-whites, Rowayton decided to call itself by a different name, devote itself to boating, and dress its residents in pink shorts with lobster decals.

In its heart, Rowayton has always been a part of Darien, and it breaks my heart to watch it struggle with its identity. It’s a sect of Norwalk badly in need of a “sects change” operation. So, now that I’ve pissed off transsexuals, people from Rowayton, people from Darien, and people who hate bad puns, let’s talk pizza!

At 7 o’clock on a Saturday night, FPB grabbed a handful of beers and headed down to the only BYOB pizza place in Fairfield County (at least to my knowledge), Rowayton Pizza. My razzing on Rowayton, of course, is all in fun; it’s actually a beautiful area with a very “small-town New England” feel to it. The downside, of course, is that parking sucks, so it took us 10 minutes to find a spot down some side street in front of someone’s house.

When we got to the restaurant, the parking situation was explained a little more clearly to us, as the line to get in was spilling into the parking lot. It would be over an hour before we were seated, despite the menu’s front cover assuring us, “There’s No Waitin’ at Rowayton!” It may be a cute rhyme, but it ain’t true.

Once we were seated, though, things began to run much more smoothly. After putting our now-warm beers on ice, we started with an order of fried calamari. It was lightly fried, crispy, cut into nice big rings and served with a side of tangy marinara. And with 5 of us eating it, it lasted about 3.8 seconds. Calamari, we hardly knew ye.

From there, I moved on to the Amalfi Drive pizza, a clam, bacon and garlic pizza with red sauce. It was well balanced; tangy, cheesy, salty, with plenty of clam flavor in every bite. The crust was a satisfying combination of crunchy and chewy…an excellent pie.

Another highlight of the evening was the price. The 16” large Amalfi Drive was just $15.75…I’ve seen seafood pizzas cost $20+ on multiple occasions. Add to that the fact that we were drinking our own beer from home, and that Rowayton doesn’t charge a stupid corking fee, and you begin to see that it’s one of the biggest pizza bargains in the area.

Our advice – either go early, or go late. If you get there at say, 5 pm, and beat the rush, or 8 pm, once it’s died down a bit, you can avoid that pesky one-hour wait and enjoy great, affordable pizza with whatever beer your heart desires. But if you choose to go at 7 like we did, well, that “No Waitin’ at Rowayton” slogan on the menu just may begin to sound like sarcasm.

Cheers,

Ryan

SBC Stamford

Southport Brewing Company
Stamford, CT
http://www.southportbrewing.com/
Menu

The night of Cinco de Mayo, FPB and its friends had a brilliant idea: to go out to a Mexican restaurant!

Unfortunately, everyone in Stamford had the exact same idea. It was already quarter past 7, and facing a 45-minute wait for a table at Maryann’s on Summer St., we made the executive decision to change plans on the fly and grab a table across the road at SBC. (And aren’t you lucky?  Lately we’ve reviewed more Mexican than the INS. It was time for something different anyway).

For those who don’t know, SBC is a brewpub, serving standard American fare and a selection of beers brewed in-house to go along with the regular tap rotation. And being that the first location opened in Southport, CT, SBC actually stands for Southport Brewing Company, leading to a crippling case of acronym confusion whereby everyone accidentally calls it Stamford Brewing Company. Let’s just move on.

Being that it WAS still Cinco de Mayo, we all opened with a round of the Margaritas SBC was advertising on its doors - $6 apiece, and you get to keep the cup! The Margaritas were pretty good, though a tad sweet for my taste (and no rock salt – alas). The cup was just a flimsy plastic thing, so we didn’t actually take them home like we would if they were sweet pint glasses or something (double alas?)

For dinner, I split an order of fried calamari and a small Margherita pizza. The calamari was nice and crispy, lightly fried with two different dipping sauces (important for a schizo like me). The Margherita pizza here, though, is really a hidden treasure. I hadn’t had it since I barfed it up after Junior prom (not the pizza’s fault, vodka’s fault), but it was just as tasty as I remembered it (on the way down, at least). Plentiful cheese, juicy tomato slices everywhere, a healthy dose of basil – just a really well-done pie in a fairly unexpected place.

Kyle ordered the Brew Burger. Despite having only two slices of bacon, the flavor was all there. Well seasoned and properly cooked to "medium" meat, smothered in caramelized onions and fontina cheese. The fries weren't too shabby either!

I was so fired up, I decided to order one of SBC’s beers, the English Pale Ale. It was decent, smooth, drinkable, but just kind of unremarkable. Then I tried the IPA that Kyle ordered, and it tasted almost exactly the same. You really have to squint your tongue to notice much of a difference at all. They were like store-brand versions of a good beer - the basics were all there, but they were missing the subtleties and flavors that make a beer "craft". That's probably why they're only $4.50 apiece.

I mean - these beers aren’t BAD, they’re just…meh. And that’s a shame, because SBC has an awesome location, a great layout, good food, and it really has a chance to be the best bar in town, except that the one thing you’d expect a brewpub to have – awesome homemade beer - is missing. It’s like watching LeBron James squander his talent year after year in the playoffs - it’s painful to watch good potential go to waste.

SBC is still a fun place to hang out, particularly during the summer, and we WILL be back…we just wish they’d remember what the B in SBC stands for.

Cheers,

Ryan

Coalhouse Pizza

Coalhouse Pizza

Stamford, CT

www.coalhousepizza.com

Food Menu | Beer Menu

Taps [rotating]: Blue Moon, Captain Lawrence Extra Gold, Captain Lawrence Espresso Stout, Dogfish 90 Minute IPA, Magic Hat #9, Rogue Dead Guy, Sierra Nevada Celebration Ale, Victory Hop Devil, Stella Artois, Stone Arrogant Bastard

When I first stepped foot into the place they call Coalhouse Pizza there was football on the TV, cold beer on tap, a fifty-cent wing special, paintings of blues/rock legends lining the walls, and dozens of strange looking cigar-box guitars hanging above the bar. Clearly, I was home.

Now, I had always heard that Coalhouse had a great beer selection, so the first thing I did was check out the list of beers on tap, which reads like the answer to the question “hey Ryan, what are some of your favorite beers?” Dogfish 90. Arrogant Bastard. Dead Guy Ale. Victory Hop Devil. Sierra Nevada Celebration. Whaaaaaaaat?

At another bar, any one of those beers would elicit the “stop it right there, that’s what I’m having” response. Here, you have to make the tough choice (or just order them all one after the other. Go big or go home).  If nothing on draught strikes your fancy, you could try one of the dozens of bottled beers lining the shelves above the taps. The Coalhouse beer selection is truly an embarrassment of riches.

 With beers in hand, we recommend that you order up a couple dozen wings tossed in original house sauces. They’re crispy, enormous, and totally satisfying. Then, lick your fingers clean and try one of their coal-fired pizzas. The thin crust is light and crisp, coated in a fresh tangy sauce with more topping options than you can shake a stick at. Seriously, I tried. My arm got tired. Among the toppings are traditional favorites like pepperoni, mushrooms and bacon, of course, but you’re also presented with some intriguingly unconventional toppings like Korean BBQ Beef, caramelized onions, homemade sausage, and flaming hot sauces.

Also, if you see the owner, Gerard, say “hello”.

 Whoops! That’s not Gerard – that’s Alexi Lalas from the 1994 World Cup. We didn’t have a picture of Gerard, but this is what he would look like if he grew out his hair and beard and dressed head to toe in brightly-colored neon polyester soccer clothes. (Come on Gerard, make it happen!!!)

He’s a tall man with red hair and a red goatee, and he’s always at Coalhouse…he’s hard to miss. I’m explaining his appearance to you for two reasons: The first is that he’s an extremely friendly guy – I’ve been there three times now and I feel like I’ve been coming in for years. He’ll listen to your suggestions and even get on the phone with his beer distributors if you think there’s a beer that he should be carrying. The second reason you need to know what Gerard looks like is that you need to know who he is in order to join the Coalhouse Beer Club.

For $20, you’re given a sweet Coalhouse beer mug, you’re entitled to discounted drafts and early notice for upcoming events, and a whole host of other perks. As Beer Club members we’ve already enjoyed several free pints and were given a FREE small pizza as taste-test guinea pigs for a new super-spicy recipe (which was absolutely delicious…and really effin’ spicy).

With Beer Club VIP status Coalhouse has quickly become one of our regular watering holes, and they’re constantly hosting events and giving us reasons to go back. (Trivia night, open mic night, beer dinners, etc)

But in the end, all you really need to know about Coalhouse is this: I wasn’t hungry when I started writing this, but by the time I had finished, I chewed off my left arm.  We will be back. Soon.

-Ryan

Follow up from last post:

As I alluded to in the last post, we were enjoying our Beer Club Member VIP status one day when Gerard dropped the bomb on us.

“Hey, how come you guys haven’t written in your blog recently?”

We’re still confused as to how he knew FPB, but he knew us. And that, dear readers, is when we knew it was time to bring the blog back. Go to Coalhouse and thank Gerard yourself. 

Amore Restaurant

Amore

Stamford, CT

Lunch Menu / Dinner Menu

We as Americans are slaves to hyperbole. Nothing gets us quite so riled up as arguments like “who’s the best quarterback,” “what’s the greatest movie of all time,” or “what’s the worst song ever written?” We love “bests” and “worsts.” They give us the opportunity to be bold. For instance, if I say Shawshank Redemption is a good movie, you probably don’t care. If I say Shawshank Redemption is the best movie of all time, you definitely care. You have an opinion. You’re going to tell me I’m an asshole and that “Gladiator” is the best movie of all time. Or “Pulp Fiction.” Or “Showgirls.” Okay, probably not that. Even Kyle will disagree with my anointment of Shawshank as GOAT (Greatest of All Time, acronym n00b), but that’s the beauty of hyperbole. It stimulates conversation, and even prompts convoluted analogies about movies on a blog that deals with the subject of food and beer.

…Which finally brings us to our point. Our friends over at Stamford Pizza Tour, upon running the gauntlet of every pizza establishment Stamford has to offer, crowned Amore Pizza as Stamford’s finest pie. Hyperbole. They came right out and said it. “The best.” And that got Kyle and I fired up. When someone says something’s “the best,” you’ve got to try it. The curiosity is enormous. And so on Saturday night, we did.

Kyle and I walk into Amore with our girlfriends, and immediately find it far more of an “Italian Restaurant” than a “pizza joint.” It was quiet and sparsely populated, and I found myself with the sudden urge to check the bathroom for a revolver stashed in a wooden flush-box. The bathroom had no flush-box. I’m marking off points for that. There were also little certificates and newspaper clippings in various spots celebrating SPT’s “Best Pizza” proclamation. Clearly, Food Plus Beer has work to do in terms of notoriety.

The service was warm and friendly, with the waitress playfully poking fun at my pained attempts to pronounce Italian words like Brad Pitt in Inglorious Basterds, but without the Southern Drawl. We ordered the Scarpariello pizza, (topped with chicken, sausage, garlic, hot and sweet peppers, and tomato) and the Mare & Monte pizza, (topped with shrimp, scallops, calamari and mushrooms). They were both very flavorful, with deliciously tangy tomato sauce, good balance with the toppings, and enough of an ass-kicking with the hot peppers (important).

The delicious Mare & Monte pizza.

But here is what happens in these situations. You see, Kyle and I are members of what you’d call Stamford’s “Colony Army.” Colony Grill has been our favorite pizza for approximately 40 years. It is insanely difficult to judge new pizzas objectively; because the first place we go in our minds every single time is “is this pizza better than Colony?” And Colony pizza is so unique, it’s almost apples and oranges to make the comparison.

So here we are in Michael Corleone land, enjoying an incredibly tasty pizza, but both of us are deciding in our minds that it’s not enough to dethrone Colony. I can see it in Kyle’s eyes. And then he says it, which made me feel weird for having gazed into his eyes for interpretation. It’s also worth noting that it wasn’t quite as filling as we would have hoped…it made a late night McDonald’s run necessary and my arteries take issue with that.

So for all its hyperbole (which sounds suspiciously like what you’d call the Superbowl of a competing football league), where does Amore stand? The pizza was extremely good, but I can’t in good conscience allow it to knock off the mighty Colony. It was also a little pricey, a little undersized, and a little bit out of the way. Those caveats keep it from ranking higher in the Pantheon of Stamford’s pizzas. I’d rather walk around the corner from my house to Emilia’s, and have the most inexplicably affordable pizza in town, or go downtown to Remo’s, which features a pie similarly delicious to Amore but with larger portions for the price.

Plus, we didn’t even see a beer list. Scary stuff.

They call the place Amore, and indeed, it was love at first bite. One of the best pizzas in Stamford for sure – but not the best.

Hyperbole debunked.

-Ryan