I think we, as a society, have gone too far down the Dave Portnoy “One Bite” pizza rabbit hole. Not necessarily with Ralph’s or anything — seeing as the locals have apparently enjoyed the place since 1961 — but just the whole thing where he has somehow become the arbiter of what makes for good pizza. Even though he pretty much always breaks his own rules and frequently seems inebriated or otherwise in a state that might affect his judgement. And, sure, I know it’s just supposed to be entertainment, these reviews, but we shouldn’t be at the mercy of a dude who has truly terrible takes on everything from gambling to politics. And, frankly, questionable taste in pizza.
I only bring it up because Portnoy’s review of Ralph’s from 2018 was served to me in some form or fashion several times on several platforms. And I fell for his 8.9 rating. Or at least it spurred me to Google the place and find out more. Because I’ve been brainwashed to think these ratings are in any way legit and not just a dummy picking numbers out of the air. Thing is, my additional research seemed to mostly back up his glowing review — even if his review seemed more coerced by some wiseguy just off screen (and a tough guy on a phone sitting in a folding chair on camera) than his actual feeling of the pie. So, in our desire to try the “best” pizza in the area, we packed up the family and headed out to lovely downtown Nutley. The “Nut” as we so fondly refer to it.
Apparently Ralph’s has a “dining room.” But it’s reserved for non-pizza eating. Otherwise it’s your typical hole-in-the-wall takeout joint that has three tables along the wall that are only ever used by the loquacious mail carrier who stops in every afternoon for a couple slices and the young dude whose job it is to fold the 2,000 pizza boxes that just came in from Acme. Otherwise, it’s pretty much a tiny space with giant ovens, some pies under glass and a bunch of dudes running around in a cramped space ducking and dodging and somehow not killing or burning themselves to death. We had no intention of getting pizzas and taking them home, so we opted for an outside table along the exterior wall of the restaurant that were most likely set up during COVID and just never went away. We ordered three thin crust pies for four of us because we’re insane. A plain, a pepperoni and a pepperoni and mushroom. And we waited. And waited. And waited. There was no line or anything, mind you. It just took forever — much longer than the 15 minutes we were quoted. I’m not sure why, but perfection takes times, I guess.
But we did eventually get our food, I carried it out to the table and I proceeded to watch every member of my family immediately burn the crap out of the top of their mouths. Because all that waiting made them really hungry. I sampled all three pies and reserved judgement — at least out loud. Let’s call it 30 bites. You know the rules. And I gotta say, I’d give it somewhere between a six and a seven. It’s just not my thing. Granted I think at least two of the pizzas were overdone. Which made them unusually dense and bready in a way that ate kind of tough and drier than they should be. It claimed thin crust, so for whatever reason I was expecting like a bar pie or a brick oven type thing. It was neither. It was somewhere between a crisp bar pie and just a regular NJ slice. Which is to say it was a ‘tweener. Not crisp, but also not oozing with cheese. So it satisfied on neither end of the spectrum. I like my pizza to eat on the lighter side, crisper bottom, not a ton of chew. A stereotypical NYC slice. This was a jaw workout, this pizza. I wasn’t the only one who noticed that. It did have flavor, I’ll give it that, but I really had trouble getting past the fact it ate more like bread than dough. The other thing I noticed was that it trended salt-forward, which could have been the char factor, or the addition of the pepperoni. But it’s a pie you can’t eat without a really large amount of Coke during and after to keep your sodium levels from spiking to an uncomfortable point.
Now, I was not the only diner that night. And the rest of the family was much more generous in their assessments. They liked it a lot. I didn’t get scores from them, but I’d say they’d be closer to the low-to-mid eights. Granted, one of the juniors said they liked Star Tavern better, which is probably not that controversial a take. And, frankly, is much more of a “thin crust” pie in the bar pie tradition than Ralph’s. I was excited to bring some pizza home and have it reheated the next day (because, as you know, reheated calories don’t count) but I can’t say that improved the experience for me. It did firm up the pepperoni / mushroom slices that kind of fell apart when fresh out of the oven — probably due to the grease from the meat and water from the fungus. But the dough was still bread-like and the bottom of the crust just a little too done and tough for my liking. Whatever I say doesn’t matter, of course, because Portnoy will still be the king of the seven-bite review and places like Ralph’s will plaster his grinning face all over their store. And idiots like me will click on any of his videos that mention NJ to see what he’s saying. Because, like all of you, I’m a sheep. But, unlike all of you, I think Ralph’s is just okay.
564 Franklin Ave. – Nutley
973/235-1130
ralphspizzeria.com
