I would advise getting one's tush immediately in gear and heading to the new pizza restaurant in Williamsburg called Motorino as soon as one can.It is, in a word, fabulous.
I went with a couple of friends last weekend and just about everything we ate was delicious. As good as any pizza I can think of in New York -- with one or two exceptions. (Which is very high praise coming from a pizza snob like me.)
We tried four different pizzas: The Margheritta DOC; the Pommodori; the Pugliese and the Artichoke pizza. My favorite was the Artichoke pizza, which consisted of roasted slivers of artichoke, strips of smoked pancetta, olives and parmigiano cheese.
Oy gevalt!
The pancetta (let's be honest and call it bacon) was such a genius touch. A wonderful savory pizza. Even though one could taste each of the ingredients perfectly clearly, they were all sliced very thin -- in other words, nothing was too overwhelming. You always got the sense you were eating a pizza. Just a ridiculously delicious tasing pizza.
My second favorite was the pommodori -- a pizza with baby tomatoes and more bacon, along with garlic, basil and arugula. Third place went to the Margherita with buffalo mozzarella and fourth would have to go to the Pugliese -- a pizza with broccoli, sausage and chilies. And even though the Pugliese was probably my least favorite, it was still absolutely tasty and something I would order again.
The antipasta were also very good -- we had a Tricolore salad, a bresaola (a cured meat) and a roasted artichoke dish. (The artichoke was probably my least favorite -- not that it was bad, per se, just difficult to eat. Frankly, I'd stick with the artichoke on the pizza.)
The grand total for this feast?
Eighty-seven dollars -- for five people.
The reason you should get there as soon as possible is the fact that Motorino does not yet have their liquor license. It's B.Y.O.B. until January. (Which explains why our tab was so low.)
This does lead to a few problems, however. Namely, you will be inclined to drink a bit too much. When we were there, we went through four bottles of wine (there's a pretty decent liquor store on the corner.) And when we were in a tipsy, happy state I began chatting with the owner.
"How was everything?"
"Great," I said. "Absolutely great. I gotta tell you -- it made a place like, say, Otto, look like shit."
This was perhaps a little unfair of me. I actually like Otto quite a bit (which a lot of my fellow pizza snobs see as a failing on my part). But I was a little drunk and a little prone to exaggeration.
"Really?" the owner said. "Actually, I opened Otto."
