It’s true: Delancey is out in the middle of nowhere in the
hinterlands of Ballard, and the dining room can be very loud, and the
bar seating can be too hot, and sometimes the wait is two hours long,
and they don’t do takeout, and they don’t take reservations (except for
parties of six or more). It’s also true: The pizza at Delancey is SO
GOOD—made so right, with mindfulness and careful technique and
beautiful ingredients and purity of heart—that nothing else
matters.
Are you ready to embrace Delancey’s oddities? It is where it is
because Brandon Pettit and Molly Wizenberg (he’s cooked at Boat Street
Cafe, she writes the blog Orangette and wrote the book A Homemade
Life) walked by the storefront on the way to a friend’s house. They
were looking for a space to realize their dream of bringing to Seattle
wood-fired, thin-crust pizza that was orders of magnitude better than
the others available here—pizza as good as the best pizza in the
country, in the world—and this out-of the-way space was
relatively cheap. They made Delancey on close to a shoestring. A friend
of Wizenberg’s who’s starting a design firm did the plans for free; the
mismatched cutlery and chairs are a thrifty necessity, not shabby-chic
pretense, and the stripped-down aesthetic, ditto. (Of note: a row of
simple reappropriated glass light fixtures in each room, cast-concrete
bartop and tabletops, and Wizenberg’s framed photos.) They know the
dining room is loud, and they’re sorry about that—they put up a
rectangle of acoustic tile, and it’s better than it was (“It used to be
actually painful,” Pettit says), but to do more involves hiring
someone, which involves money, which they don’t have. One thing they
spent money on: rearranging the layout so no tables are right next to
the bathroom. Another: the apple-wood-fired oven, which is why it’s hot
sitting at the bar. So it goes—you’re not as hot as Pettit is,
and he remains completely amiable with his bandanna around his
forehead. (Ask him whatever you want, you’ll see.) Of an evening, the
front door might be left ajar for cool air, letting autumn leaves sneak
in to lie picturesquely on the floor.
At the end of the bar the other night, an older gentleman in a plaid
shirt folded a slice of pizza lengthwise and inserted it into his
mouth. He was there alone—from out of town, he said with his
mouth full. There didn’t used to be any good pizza in Seattle, he said
authoritatively, chewing more while signaling a waitperson for another
glass of red wine. He was friendly enough, but he was there for a
reason—probably largely having to do with crust.
Delancey uses top-drawer toppings: fresh mozzarella, local
Padrón chilies, Zoe’s pepperoni, foraged mushrooms, housemade
fennel sausage (get the sausage!), and more. (They’re experimenting
with a super-garlicky white pizza with Taylor Shellfish Farms clams.)
The red sauce is uncooked, made with canned San Marzano tomatoes from
California, garlic, salt, sugar, and oregano, applied sparingly. (They
don’t believe in secret recipes; check www.orangette.blogspot.com.)
But the crust! Pettit made a series of pilgrimages, going to pizza
places all over the country: Di Fara and others in New York, Ken’s and
Nostrana in Portland, Pizzeria Mozza in Los Angeles, Pizzeria Bianco in
Phoenix (“Better than anything in New York or Italy,” Pettit says). He
held the dough in his hands, and he tasted it raw. The best dough, he
found, was significantly wetter and saltier than the less-than-best:
The wetness creates more steam that, in the 800-degree oven, makes more
bubbles, while saltier is just better than less salty. He messed around
with different water (no difference) and made his own pizza in
different states. He got it just right: The outer edges have shattery,
blackened bubbles; elsewhere, it’s elastic, pulling like it’s almost
sentient; in the center, it’s thinner than possible while still
maintaining unquestionable structural integrity. Some of the pizzas
come out oblong, which is adorable. By weight, they are not a
bargain—from $10 to $18 for a roughly 12-inch pie—but then
what truly good thing is? They are rich in their simplicity, especially
the white pizzas, and eminently satisfying.
There are a few other things to eat at Delancey—a salad,
appetizers, a chocolate-chip cookie with gray salt that people are
crazy about (it’s almost exactly David Leite’s New York Times recipe, Pettit says, in case you want to make them at home). The wine
list shows contemplation, doesn’t discriminate about country, and has
bottles priced at a bargain; beers are mostly local, all substantial.
The soundtrack might be Some Girls by the Rolling Stones or a
Neko Case album. Delancey knows what it’s about.
As for the two-hour wait: They tried letting people call ahead, but
they’ve been too busy to answer the phone, and then some people
wouldn’t show up. (They’re too busy for takeout, too.) What they will
do is take your phone number on-site, direct you to a nearby drink (at
the bar Tarasco or the restaurant A Caprice Kitchen), then call you
when your table’s ready. Waits are shorter very early or on the later
side (and on the later side, you might get in on free day-old cookies).
In any case, it’s worth it. 
I ordered Molly’s book after my first visit to Delancey. I haven’t read it yet because I don’t need to be more of a fan of this place. We are so lucky in Seattle.
As for the two hour wait, show up 5 minutes before they open or come after 8:30pm — at the time I’m posting this comment, that’s true — that might change soon with the reviews now pouring in.
The wait to get into Pizzeria Bianco (referred to in Bethany’s story) is around 3 hours — in Phoenix. It was 5 hours after Oprah visited. I wonder if it will ever get that bad at Delancey. It will if my prediction comes true: Oprah reads Molly’s book, adds it to her book club after Molly and Brandon cook for her on one of her shows…
Wow, could more news papers and the “alternative weeklies” kiss the ass of this pizza maker. I’ve been, the pizza’s good, but for the love of god, it’s not the be all and end all of pizza.
The story is cute; I’m happy to see a local small business succeeding, but you’d think that they were handing out free hummers to restaurant reviewers for the number of overly slobbery reviews they’ve gotten. It’s just pizza. It’s good pizza, but it’s just pizza. it’s certainly not worth a 2-hour wait.
Let me get this straight–you have to arrive a meal earlier than the one you want to eat because it’s so crowded, and they don’t have any money to fix the place up?
“They were looking for a space to realize their dream of bringing to Seattle wood-fired, thin-crust pizza that was orders of magnitude better than the others available here—pizza as good as the best pizza in the country, in the world”
wow. so what about via tribunali? or serious pie? or tutta bella? or flying squirrel? i’m all for anyone realizing a dream, but honestly, did their vision really spring from this much hubris? bringing something genuine to any part of seattle is a great enough thing on its own, but please don’t thing that they are showing us the light. they are not.
that said, thank you, delancey, for being there. and don’t go away.
I wonder if some of these people making such bold proclamations about it being the best pizza in Seattle have been anywhere else but Pagliacci (which is pretty decent).
Via Tribunali is much more authentic Italian pizza, Tutta Bella is delicious, Serious Pie has amazing crust, Veraci is smoky and thin-crusted, Crash Landing is great Philly-style pizza, and Delancey is very good, locally sourced, NY-style pizza.
Delancey is a welcome addition to the pizza scene in Seattle and fills its niche nicely. Sadly, most of the praise being heaped on it, is by fanboys and fangirls of Petit and Wizenburg. Just read the reviews: the raving, positive reviews and almost always refer “Molly and Brandon” and the balanced, sincere reviews just talk about “Delancey”. The people who don’t know the owners or who they are, haven’t been swept up by the buzz.
I’m glad to have Delancey here, but it is not even the best pizza in Seattle, let alone the country or world.
Ummm… what about Rolling Fire? Granted, only at the farmer’s markets (U-district and Lake City) and for catering engagements, but DAMN FINE PIZZA – wood-fired, Naples style and made with love. And it only takes ten minutes.
Have you people ever been to New York? What are you talking about New York-Style pizza? First of all, this is wood fired pizza. Wood fired pizza is delicious, but it is not at all NYC-style pizza. When one who has actually been to NYC thinks of NYC style pizza (i’ve been and eaten a lot of it), I think of big triangular, foldable slices, hand-tossed thin crust, just the right amount of sauce, usually cheap but delicious mozzarella cheese, and it’s baked in a gas or electric oven. Delancey does not meet this criteria. Delancey clearly makes Neapolitan-syle pizza: It’s wood fired, small pies, fresh, fancy, and local ingredients (including really good cheese). Don’t get me wrong, it’s great pizza, but it’s not NY-style. It’s cute that they named the place after a NY subway stop, and it’s great that the guy has eaten at Di Fara in Brooklyn (hybrid neapolitan/NY style and amazing), but those things don’t make their pizza NYC pizza!!!
Floridian, I’ll reserve judgment until I try Delancey’s myself, but I think what “Ny style” means is a liitle less defined than you think it is. The pizza you are describing to me is “NY slice joint”. However, NY Neopolitan is distinct from Naples Neopolitan, in that it tends to have a sturdier, slightly chewier crust, and be cooked a tiny bit more. Pizzas you get in Naples tend to have a very soft crust, and a floppy, almost soupy center that really is more suited to a knife and fork. So to me, “Ny style” can mean slice, or the firmer crusted neopolitan.
SuperKarateMonkeyDeathCar: SO FUNNY. It’s true, but those reviews speak to the power of Delancey’s fantastic marketing! It’s so excellent, they could charge patrons $6 for an entree of ovenroasted Seabreeze Farm sheep turds. They may not be pro chefs yet, but they’ve got their finger on a pulse.
I disagree. “NY Style” MEANS “slice joint pizza”. There may be other, better pizzas in New York, but they are not the true variety. If orange oil isn’t running down your arm, it’s not real NY pizza.
As far as I’m concerned, Tutta Bella is TERRIBLE, just nasty stuff; Via Tribunali is mediocre; and Veraci is the real deal: not just the best pizza in Seattle but the ONLY pizza in Seattle. If Delancy’s is 90% as good as Veraci, it’s pretty good. I dunno if I’m interested in waiting two hours to find out.
i hate you all
Been there – not the best. Like Serious Pie the ingredients are great but together in a pizza you end up with something less – disappointing. I’ve ordered pizza shipped from Chicago/NYC (not the same but better than anything in Seattle) that costs more (per pizza) but the end product at this place does not live up to the cost. Zazi was the best NYC pizza in Seattle.
“Pizzas you get in Naples tend to have a very soft crust, and a floppy, almost soupy center that really is more suited to a knife and fork.”
Ah, so THAT’S what everyone likes about Via Tribunali pizza. I tried it three times, got soggy, soupy pizza three times. I didn’t realize I was experiencing authenticity.
And I agree with Fnarf – when people say NY pizza, they’re talking about the slice joints. Just like “Chicago Style” means “a doughy travesty,” not just any pizza made in Chicago.
Why does everything in Seattle compete to be the best of the best/most authentic/most local/holier than thou? Give it a rest, folks. Life ain’t a beauty pageant and no one’s a god/dess. Like what you like, but don’t force it on other people.’
I guess I’m dumb to be posting this @ the Stranger, since this is how they make their living.
Arrived at Delanceys 5 min before it opens. Seated right after the dozen or so before me.
Service was prompt. Drank a good beer.
Ate a sausage pizza. Yummy. Total Check $21.65 $25.00 with a tip. Good service and pizza. However…
A Frozen Party Pizza for $1.59 @ the grocery store is Yummy as well. And enjoyed with a pint of Guinness $1.99
#15 Exactly! But look out, you tipped $3.35 on a near $22 tab? BJC says that 20% is the standard baseline nowadays so the service and attitude there must have stunk. I’ll avoid for a year or so like I always do and when i crave that experience I make one at home–very easy people with a nice hot oven and that frozen dough from QFC..