It doesn’t get more old school than this. Down an alley, in Elizabeth, NJ, lies a hidden gem: Santillo’s. See why generations have found their way there. We got two words for you: “Hobart M80.” Boom!

You hear “fried pizza,” you think “state fair,” right?  Guess again.  The Pizza Montanara at Don Antonio in NYC is elegant, refined pizza perfection — straight from the mind of Antonio Starita, zen master “pizzaiolo.”

The choices that we make, in the way that we spend our time, energy and rescources, will reveal what is really important to us. My good friend Scott, who owns Scott’s Pizza Tours in New York spends his vacation time doing things like visiting coal mines to better understand the fuel that fired early pizza ovens. He studies census records to learn about immigrant lifestyles. He grows tomatoes to understand the agricultural process.  In short he has made a commitment to mastery of his subject of interest. I guarantee he knows more about pizza than most of the folks who are baking pies for a living, and in the process has probably learned quite a bit about himself as well.

In every field, those who have excelled are the people who have gotten obsessed and stayed obsessed. The great thing is that if you have chosen a field that you truly love, the efforts will not seem like sacrifices at all. The commitment will be a labor of love and every twist and turn will be part of a wonderful adventure.

While in Chicago a few weeks ago I visited the new Rick Bayless restaurant “XOCO”

After hearing all of the recent hype about Chef Bayless, I was ready to be unimpressed with his fast casual concept. How could he possibly be that good… and then I ate the food. The menu is as basic as can be, torta, churros, empanada, just simple Mexican street food. It occurred to me that that the menu was not that much different from a Mexican fast food restaurant. The difference, and it is a huge difference, is in the execution. The level of excellence displayed at XOCO illustrates that what separates the great from the ordinary is commitment to EVERY detail.

We have all tasted hot chocolate, it comes out of a packet and is usually no big deal. Well, how about hot chocolate made from fresh cocoa ground on site? Sure there are easier ways to do it, but Chef Bayless is commited to a level of quality that is so high that no detail is insignificant and not task too great if it furthers the pursuit of excellence. In the hands of the XOCO team even something as simple as chips and salsa become a representation of the overall commitment.

That is the lesson, to be truly great we must be completely dedicated to every aspect of our craft. The disposable napkins are as important as the entrees. Every element must send a consistent message of quality. We are all familiar with the phrase “jack of all trades, master of none” Well, the truly great are masters of every facet of their profession with equal emphasis on every component.

One last thing,Willie Mays practices his craft with obvious joy, I bet Chef Bayless does too.

Classic Neapolitan tradition meets NYC frenzy. See what “Vera Pizza Napoletana” (true Neapolitan pizza) really is. Host Carolann Valentino takes you to Keste, in NYC’s West Village. From 17th century soldiers to 21st century hipsters, this pizza has nourished the bodies of souls of generations of connoisseurs.Keste, West Village NYC

One of the guiding principles of Nick’s is that all food must pass “the Grandma test”. Before bringing a food item to the table, employees must ask themselves if they would serve the dish to their Grandma. This is a really effective way to maintain quality control and I recently “borrowed” this idea for a staff meeting. The team immediately embraced the concept of the “Grandma test” but then something interesting occurred. One of my young managers reversed the principle. She stated “You know, the best meals I ever had were prepared by my Grandma, Maybe before we serve a dish we should also ask ourselves if our Grandma would serve it to us?” Now there is a powerful question.

The past several years have seen the rise of a new type of celebrity, what I call “The Angry Chef”. You have seen them all over TV. They curse, fling pots and pans, abuse novice employees and bully patrons and staff alike. It makes for dramatic television, but I think it’s starting to do some harm. Cooking is now experienced as some form of extreme sport. My fear is that newcomers to our industry see these “performances” and think that borderline violence is a way to demonstrate commitment and passion. Violence and anger are never a legitimate expression of passion in the kitchen or in any other social relationship.  The average culinary student doesn’t know how much training, discipline and talent are behind what really makes those celebrity chefs successful, all they see is the act.

Now back to Grandma. I bet almost everyone of us has a memory of our Grandma, lovingly standing over a stove for hours preparing a meal that will last in our minds forever. No special equipment, no gourmet ingredients, probably no recipe, and definitely no swearing or pot flinging. The one ingredient that was constant in every “Grandma meal” was love… Love for the food, love for the traditions, love for the people she was cooking for, and love for the very act of cooking itself. 

Without getting too metaphysical, I really believe that our bodies can feel the difference between food that’s  cooked with love and food that’s cooked with anger. In some Buddhist monasteries only the most spiritually advanced monks are allowed to prepare meals. One thing is certain; I don’t want angry or scared people cooking or serving my food. When you visit a place like Nick’s Pizza and Pub you can feel the spirit of “Grandma” everywhere including the way that team members treat each other. In my opinion Grandma’s love knocks out the “Angry Chef” every time.

We have all heard tales of the legendary pizza makers that seem to have some mystical ability. In the history of pizza there has been a small number of pizza alchemists who are able to take the most basic ingredients and turn them into something that is greater than the some of its parts… a perfect pizza. . Like all mythology. the implication is that somewhere there is a secret technique, or ingredient, or piece of equipment , some hidden knowledge that only a handful of people posses, a sort of map to the holy grail of pizza. this idea and the veil of secrecy goes back to the pre-Roman  days, when guilds and secret societies were created to insure job security. In ancient Roman times bread baking was considered so crucial that if you were born into a baking family you were required by law to continue in that trade.

My Dad has told me that old Italian bakers in New York in the 1930’s would jealously guard their recipe books from their co-workers fearing well into their 80’s that some youngster would steal a secret and force them into retirement. I remember pizzaiolo’s removing the temperature knobs from ovens to “hide” their chosen baking temperature from “pizza spies”. To this day I know pizza makers who carefullly shred the labels from their sauce cans before discarding them. The folly of this is that most of the folks are baking at the same temperatures, using the same tomatoes and generally following the same procedures. At the very least, they have way more in common than they can imagine, and they would realize that if they ever bothered to speak to one another.

Besides the fact that all of this secrecy has created a culture of distrust among pizza makers there is another problem. Every once in a while someone does come up with a true insight or improvement. My feeling is that if we don’t share knowledge something very important could be lost. Who has brought more lasting joy to the world, Freddie or Louis?

 The 2 special secret ingredients contained in every great pizza recipe are…wabi and sabi. Wait! Don’t rush out to the local Whole Foods to pick up these items. As they say in the infomercials, “wabi and sabi are not available in any store” That’s because they are not tangible ingredients, but they are, in my opinion, the crucial elements that can be found in any truly great artistic expression and, in any great pizza.   Wabi and Sabi , a Japanese principle, can be defined as “understated elegance and finding beauty in the imperfect and impermanent. This the reason that we are drawn to a simple Roman pizza bianca, flavored with just a light sprinkle of sea salt and some extra virgin olive oil. It’s also the reason why you can find 50 people waiting on line in front of Pepe’s on Wooster St. in New Haven on any given night. The irregular blisters on the crust of a pizza at Spaccanapoli and the simple choice of ingredients at Slice, that’s wabi and sabi. But of course there is more to it than that.

The real key to including wabi and sabi in your pizza recipe and in your life can befound in the completion of the definition “…things that resonate with the spirit of the makers hand” Think about it, whether we are talking about the tomato pies at Delorenzo’s in Trenton or the ever changing slices at DiFara’s on Avenue J. the one thing that all the pizzas that we love have in common is that they are a pure expression of the person who made them. Yes, the big chains have consistency and uniformity. I maintain that it is that generous sharing of self that truly connects people to the gifts that we offer them. 

Think about it. The first time you walked into the place you had no reference point, no expectation or perhaps you were even a bit skeptical. You had a fresh experience,  much better than expected,. You were pleasantly surprised, and for a brief time you were liveing in a state of”WOW! So you plan a return visit. You tell all of your friends. You think about it all week. You walk in ready for WOW! Anticipating WOW! In fact demanding WOW! Your friends have arrived carrying the baggage of all the hype that you created,  they can’t quite feel the love either, and what was actually a good experience becomes vaguely disappointing. You go back a few times, but the initial buzz just can’t be recaptured.

This is the paradox of WOW! and it exists for all of us whether we create pizza for a living or like to cook at home for our friends. Every time we sit down to enjoy a pizza we are a different person. We are the sum total of all of our experiences right up to that exact moment. What this means is that if we replicate the previous pizza experience exactly it will not impress our guests as much on repeat visits because they have a new reference point each time. The only way to keep WOWING your guests is to constantly (but subtly) improve the experience.

The constant effort to improve is the only way to have long term success.