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My fondest memory of pizza was at Proietti’s on Goodman St in Rochester, NY, where my grandfather took my brother and me on Friday nights. You walk into a large ballroom-like hall with wood flows covered in sawdust. Wooden tables were scattered about, and a jukebox played the Ventures, Steppenwolf, and other ‘60s rock. At the end of the room, stretching 50 feet or more was the pizza counter. Equal in size was a menu on the wall with all the pizza sizes (along with small, medium and large steel pans), toppings and prices. Only pizza was sold. Behind the counter were three mustachioed pizza makers, 1 or 2 always tossing and twirling the dough higher and higher. The 2 large Blogetts squeek open and closed, filling the place with a delicious pungent smell enhanced by cigarette smoke. We washed it down with orange pop, or, for my grandpa, Genesee beer. The sauce had a hint of fennel and other spices never matched since then. Recently though I find that if you order from Cam’s an extra thick/extra sauce pie it comes very close.

Utica Style: No cheese