Navigating Bushwick’s sea of mostly bad pizza. — Photos by Diego Cupolo

As a current culinary destination, Bushwick is best known for its tacos. The prevalence of creeping vines and leafy fig trees in many Bushwick backyards, however, speak of a brawny past of local Italian-American cooking. Early last century, Bushwick morphed into a mostly Sicilian stronghold, with residents planting grapes and tomatoes in backyards, and establishing pizzerias that continue to operate decades after their departure as residents.

For most New Yorkers, pizza is a weekly tradition with slice loyalties that run deeper than political party lines. Last week, Associate Editor Diego Cupolo and I ate our way through our local pizzerias, focusing only on plain cheese slices, no toppings, no side distractions. We started from roughly east to west, moving from Ridgewood to the western crux of the Bed-Stuy-Bushwick border, hitting popular spots and a few wildcards.

 
Fortunata’s. Click to see more.

No charred Neapolitan beauties here: these are floppy, orange-oil-dripping triangles, made for one-handed eating while walking and for its alcohol-absorbing properties. For as much as you want Bushwick pizza to be good, the pizza was often just passable and some times, just painfully bad.

Here are the results; ready for the backlash.

Corato’s: A Bushwick/Ridgewood institution from the late 1970s. The slice is a quarter more than most, at 2.25. With a bland crispy crust and inoffensive cheese, this slice was fine but boring. You can sit out in the park and nosh and a large pie, on Monday, is $12. B-

Famous Henry’s: Under the M train on Myrtle lies Henry’s, a hole in the wall with paintings of Roger Rabbit and Betty Boop leering off the walls. The cheese slice is just plain weird: the sugary sauce and brown crust taste like a bowl of Campbell’s concentrated tomato soup mashed into Ritz crackers. The garlic knots; however, look killer. D

Fortunata’s II: The beer and wine service and local rumors of excellence gave us higher hopes. If 25 years has given them anything, it’s a slippage into industrial cheese and spice rationing; the pizza tastes frozen, at best. Through the mantle of homogenous chewy cheese and a skim of red stuff, “I can’t believe I’m eating this,” Diego remarked. C-

Tony & Orazio’s: There are two Tony’s on Knickerbocker and they both claim seniority and superiority. T & O’s is a bare-bones establishment heavy on the 1970’s brown/orange color scheme and loads of Halloween decorations. The slice is squat, smaller than some but with a few puffy crust bubbles and a decent flavor. If you pile on the parm and chile flakes this is a suitable craving-killer. B

Tony’s: Down the street is the factually older Tony’s, 35 years young with an almost equally passable slice. The saucing is more aggressive and saltier than T & O’s but the crust is a chest hair behind in consistency. If crazy pizza is your idea of an adventure, don’t miss the mashed potato, bacon, cheddar and the buffalo chicken ranch pies. B

Sicily’s Best: “I am having flashbacks of Fortunata’s” said Diego, as we glumly chewed through another sodden piece. We had high hopes for this slice — loud rotund Italian guys with flour-coated shirts and big smiles, a big pumpkin in front, and good gossip but the slice was chewy with flavorless cheap cheese, leaving a filmy taste in the mouth. C

Pizza di Napoli: The best just happened to come last. A frantic Diego called me after parting ways with swollen stomachs of starch and sauce, “I’ve found it! We should have started with this one.” The Taco Bell Express fluorescents can easily blind you into walking past Pizza di Napoli, a tiny storefront near Woodhull Hospital, but the slice, with a semolina-dusted bottom, a more pronounced oven-toasted flavor had a chewy crisp crust. The robust tomato-skin flecked sauce and bubbly mozzarella is a step above the other Bushwick slices and may keep you from heading into Manhattan. The old timers should be steppin’ up their game — Pizza di Napoli just turned one year old and is doing things a little better. A