It is raining and utterly miserable for a Saturday. So far, I’ve tripped into several puddles, watched as my companion bought a pink drink at a coffee shop, and browsed through seemingly endless racks of fully priced clothing in an effort to avoid stepping outside. Alas, the clock is quietly marching towards our dinner date, and we begrudgingly bundle up.
One soggy train ride and one uncomfortably moist bus ride later, along with a walk where my companion does all the navigating, and we see the awning of Ivana’s Pizzeria, bright blue against its dreary surroundings. It is nestled deep in the Bronx’s Little Italy and homey, delicious smells waft up from every corner. Par for the course, I’m starving and apologize in advance for how much cheese I am about to consume.
Inside, we meet Frank and his cousin Alessi. Alessi is no nonsense and sturdy. Frank is jovial and obviously knows the menu like the back of his hand. I ask for recommendations and he gives us several (we ask to try all of them). He bustles to the kitchen, where I highly suspect he is doing a lot of the cooking himself, and pops out several times to ask us our preferences.
Do we like our pasta al dente or well cooked? (Al dente.) Do we want garlic bread? (Yes.) Do we want cheese on our sandwich? (Literally always yes.) Do we want mild sausage, hot sausage, or a mix? (A mix, please!) I have the oddest feeling that I’ve returned home after a long journey.
The ambiance isn’t much. There are a few outdoor seats and half a dozen booths inside; my guess is that this operation runs on a lot of takeaway and serves mostly locals. Needless to say, everything smells amazing and Alessi is making our calzone ten feet away, and I would have sat on a broken milk crate if it meant eating whatever came out of that pizza oven.
Calzone
The calzone goes from Alessi’s skilled hands to the oven, then back to Alessi’s hands where he slices it in half on a brown paper plate, and then straight to our table. I might actually be in danger of drooling and I tell my photographer that if she doesn’t take the photo within the next ten seconds, I’ll eat her hands. Aggressive? Maybe. But this calzone inspires unusual feelings, like extreme aggression and the blind desire to grab the entire thing and run away as fast as possible to eat it in a corner like a caveperson.
My companion has never eaten a calzone. She pops a Lactaid and takes her first bite. I’m already multiple bites in, and excitedly wait for her reaction. “It’s so good!” She readily admits, loving the cheese pull, loving the crust, and I could not be happier. Is this the best tasting crust I’ve ever experienced? No. But it is masterfully baked, nary an undercooked or overcooked edge to be found.
Perfectly light and crispy with a good amount of pillowy inside. It lacks the flavor of a fermented dough but this might be an advantage here, because it allows the cheese to truly shine. The quality of the ricotta is excellent and the mozzarella is beautifully stretchy. There’s a hint of garlic and salt, but this calzone is clearly for purists. It is a work of art. I go on to eat 80 percent of it and repeatedly apologize.
Sandwich
We order the sausage and pepper hero and Frank proudly tells us all their sandwiches are made with housemade focaccia. I am a sucker for any kind of fried or semi-fried bread, so this is exciting news. He prepares the sandwich in the kitchen but bakes it for us in the pizza oven, along with several slabs of the focaccia which become garlic bread. The bread arrives first and we dig in.
“I don’t feel like I’m going to have garlic breath for the rest of my life,” my photographer remarks happily. The garlic is apparent without being overbearing; the herbaceousness is also a pleasant surprise. Parsley is prominent, along with possibly some dried basil. The focaccia is a delight – crispy on the bottom, well slicked with garlicky oil on top, not too thick that the chew gets in the way, and not too thin that it becomes crackerlike.
The sandwich arrives, absolutely stuffed to the gills with locally sourced sausage, and smells so savory and porky that I again urge my photographer to work quickly. The fat has rendered with the peppers and all the textures combine beautifully on the first bite. Superb sausage quality, with flavor so fresh you can almost see the pig. It is never dry but never overly saucy, providing the perfect amount to melt into the bread without ruining its crumb, and the peppers provide a burst of freshness to foil the decadence.
The Pasta
My photographer has also never eaten penne alla vodka, and when Frank mentions that he does it really well, we cannot resist. “We only use fresh pancetta from the butcher down the road,” Frank promises as he hustles to the back to get started. Apparently Alessi had never eaten it either, but after he started working at Ivana’s, it has become his most requested dish. Frank tells us that while he has always made it with the same ingredients, it was not until a family friend and chef gave him some advice on the order of operations that the dish was truly mastered.
The penne alla vodka arrives and looks gorgeous. Frank has divided the sizable portion into two for us, and even one of those plates would be enough to share (so we do). The presentation is simple but inviting. The sauce is some of the glossiest I’ve ever seen. The undeniable scent of cream and tomato is heavily surrounded by the pancetta, smoky and sensual. After one bite, I realize I am in the presence of possibly the best penne alla vodka I have ever tasted.
My companion offers a few comments on how good it smells and tastes, but mostly we keep eating until the entire plate is gone. I tell my photographer not to expect this level of superiority if she orders penne alla vodka somewhere else. Generous chunks of pancetta and fresh tomato lace the sauce, which is cheesier than the typical vodka sauce and for the first time, I do not feel the need to add extra cheese. The ratio of pasta and sauce is magnificent. Who am I to mess with perfection?
Frank offers us both espressos to round out our meal, but we politely decline. He gracefully suffers himself to drink both shots on our behalf.
Final Thoughts
“We didn’t order pizza.” The realization hits us after we place our order, but it hardly matters. With what we did order, it is easy enough to extrapolate and say their pizza is going to taste pretty darn delicious. Ivana’s Pizzeria is not a one trick pony. Everything we tried was carefully executed and the results were remarkable.
Even biased as I am towards calzones, this one stands out for its simplicity and quality. The sausage and peppers similarly glowed with an ease and a je ne sais quoi that only comes from experience and genuine care for the product and the process. All their pasta sauces are made in house, but their vodka sauce is unique and not to be missed.
Whether you are a longtime Bronx local or a Brooklynite making the trek uptown, Ivana’s Pizzeria will not disappoint. Their portions are generous, the atmosphere is friendly, and the food tastes like coming home.
Three Best Bites
3. Sausage and pepper hero – delicious combination of bread, meat, and vegetables.
2. Calzone – mozzarella and ricotta belong together and I will die on that hill.
- Penne alla vodka – the best in recent memory and absolutely the item to get here.
Bathroom Corner
I didn’t see one and did not need to go badly enough to ask. Frank and his team seemed extremely nice and it is entirely possible they have one for paying guests.
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