I ordered a pizza, they delivered an apizza, and they called it ah-beetz.

Pizza lovers in Connecticut know exactly what the word apizza means, and they also know that one of the best (if not the best) versions in the entire state is found at Roseland Apizza in Derby. On a recent Saturday night, we joined some friends and made the pilgrimage to the neighborhood that has had the privilege of protecting this pizza icon. We sampled three distinct combinations, each with three distinct personalities and three different tastes, all sharing one undeniable theme: perfection.

Before diving into our visit, it’s worth appreciating Roseland’s roots. The story begins in 1935, when Giovanni “John” Scatolini, an Italian immigrant, opened a bakery and grocery store in neighboring Ansonia. He originally baked bread in a coal-fired oven in his backyard; a tradition he carried with him when he moved the business to Derby in 1938. World War II brought a family tragedy to the Scatolini family, when John’s son, Reno, was killed in the Battle of the Bulge in 1944.

The story of the pizzeria may have ended at this point if not for the intervention of John’s daughter, Lina Lucarelli. While only a teenager at the time, Lina used her unique entrepreneurial talents over the next seventy-plus years, lovingly guiding Roseland as its irreplaceable heart and soul. Born in Montebello, Italy, Lina emigrated to the U.S. at the age of seven to escape Mussolini’s Italy, and she eventually worked beside her husband, Nazzareno “Bocci” Lucarelli, at Roseland until his passing in 1980. When Lina passed in 2016, Roseland shared this touching and simple tribute, “She had the insight to turn a simple bakery into a beloved hometown pizza establishment at just the age of 15. Through five generations, our family has continued to push out pies and will continue to do so for generations to come.” To this day, Roseland is still family-run, a Derby institution and a proud pillar of Connecticut’s apizza heritage for nearly a century. An incredible story of dedication, perseverance and a matriarch like none other.

When we arrived around 4:45 p.m., the parking lot was already full, and even street parking was getting tight. Inside the unassuming front entrance, a whiteboard handled the seating process. Each group added their name and party size to the bottom of the list, and one by one, names were crossed off as smiling groups are escorted to their table. We added our name to the bottom of the list and settled in for the customary wait, in our case, about fifty minutes.

Roseland’s interior is classic and cozy, two rooms, a main dining area with booths and tables, plus a smaller side room to handle the larger groups. A giant chalkboard spans the back wall, listing daily specials, beer options, and, of course, Foxon Park sodas. Every other square inch of the walls is dedicated to the loving memories of the Lucarelli family, its extended family, and the friends who have enjoyed thousands of pizzas that have emerged from the 90+ year-old coal-fired ovens.

Once we slid into our booth, we were instantly transported back to a simpler time, when families spent Saturday evenings enjoying a relaxed meal at their local dining spots. We watched as friends greeted each other with hugs, and everyone seemed to know everyone else’s family news, it was the place where good conversation and great food took center stage. Our server brought over the essentials, the plastic-encased menus, napkins, silverware, and, in the tradition of Roseland, four mismatched melamine dinner plates, all part of the charm. The menu offerings were simple and classic Italian, one side of the menu included appetizers, grinders, salads, and pasta and parm dinners, while the other side was entirely dedicated to pizza. Interestingly, about three-quarters of the pizza section featured white pies (no sauce), loaded with seafood, chicken, or vegetables. The smaller top section listed the classic red pie, simple and straightforward.

We ordered two pies, a classic apizza with light garlic, and a half-and-half pie, cheese on one half, with sausage and pepperoni on the other. Naturally, we paired them with bottles of Foxon Park sodas.

When the server arrived carrying the metal pizza stands, the energy in our booth shifted, excitement building like kids on Christmas morning. First came the apizza, followed closely by the more heavily topped pie. The traditional apizza glistened, its sauce shimmering under the light, with just a dusting of cheese, luscious in its simplicity. The combo pie was a bolder display, one half bubbling with melted cheese, the other loaded with hearty toppings. At Roseland, generosity is standard.

Half of the apizza was immediately relocated to the individual plates, and from my first bite, my long-held belief was reaffirmed, Roseland belongs in the conversation for best in the state. Describing the taste is difficult, every bite burst with freshness, the sweet, rich tomato sauce beautifully balanced by the crisp yet tender crust. Then came that subtle hit of grated cheese that tied it all together. Pure heaven.

How would the combo-pie compare, same base, entirely different expectations? First, the cheese slice. The melted cheese added a creamy richness that transformed the flavor profile without overwhelming it. Again, perfection. Could the meat-laden slice compare? Chunks of sausage covered nearly every inch, with the thin pepperoni slices peeking out around the edges. The sausage was classic Italian, a medium spice, a smidgen of fennel and wonderfully hearty, while the pepperoni sneakily added just a touch of additional spiciness. The first bite also confirmed that Roseland’s pizzas were beyond fantastic, they were flawless compositions.

Overall, two pies, three flavors, one conclusion, Roseland Apizza is not only great pizza, it is also a significant part of Connecticut’s rich pizza history. It’s not flashy nor trendy, just pure, time-honored craftsmanship and a genuine sense of community. Every pie has been perfected over generations, reminding everyone why Connecticut’s pizza heritage is second to none.

One visit and you’ll also understand why Roseland’s fans keep coming back decade after decade.

350 Hawthorne Ave.

Derby, CT 06418

(203) 735-0494

The Connecticut Pizza Trail recently unveiled its list of the top 100 pizzerias for us pizza-loving Nutmeggers. While I could easily name a few they overlooked, it’s no surprise that many of the revered New Haven legends made the cut, with the rest fanning out in a 180-degree sweep west, north, and east across the state. Some of the additional names were instantly familiar, others have now earned a spot on my ever-growing “must-try” list. As I worked through the county-by-county alphabetical lineup, my attention naturally drifted to my home turf, New Haven County. One recognizable name after another appeared, and then, near the end, there it was: Zois Pizza. Tucked just off Route 8’s Exit 18 in Seymour, this unassuming gem might fly under the radar for outsiders, but for locals, Zois has long been among the Valley’s best.

The year was 1970. Richard Nixon sat in the Oval Office, the first Earth Day was celebrated, Janis Joplin and Jimi Hendrix left the world their last notes of brilliance, the tragedy at Kent State shocked the nation, and OSHA was born. In the small town of Seymour, population 12,776, Zois Tzepos opened his namesake pizzeria amongst the U.S. Post Office, a movie house and a small train station. While most were focused on Wooster Street’s legendary apizza, Zois stayed true to his roots, crafting Greek-style pies made from a two-rise dough and baked to perfection in a pan.

Fast-forward 55 years, and the ovens now rest under the watchful eye of Zois’ son, Jim. A second-generation pizza maker, Jim is no stranger to the art of stretching, topping, and baking, skills he began honing as a teenager. By his own estimate, he’s crafted more than three million pizzas over the years. On any given day, other members of the Tzepos family can also be found pitching in, whether working the register, prepping ingredients, or tending the ovens. Jim’s wife and children keep the spirit of a true family operation alive as the third generation carries the Zois legacy forward.

After several visits, it’s safe to say I’m firmly a big fan.

At first glance, Zois’ pie looks deceptively simple, classic in appearance, yet with one subtle difference, the crust. Unlike New Haven apizza, where the lofty and airy crust shows spots of char from the high-temperature ovens, Zois’s version features a modest, thin rim that frames the center, its golden-brown color is barely dotted with hints of char. The layering of the sauce, cheese, and toppings looked perfectly balanced, and the aroma alone was enough to draw me in. A quick peek underneath revealed an even bake, a moderately tan underbelly with just a few char marks. It looked sturdy enough to lift a slice, including any toppings, without fear of collapse.

The real test began with the crust, with a flavor and texture very different from its New Haven cousins, yet instantly recognizable as true Greek-style. The first bite brought a satisfying crunch, followed by a touch of density and a mild flavor that would allow the toppings to take center stage. I ordered a few meat combinations, starting with my usual go-to, pepperoni and sausage, with the addition of a few ripened tomato slices. It’s always interesting to see which one claims the flavor spotlight, and at Zois, the sausage edged out the pepperoni. When it was delivered, I was impressed by the composition, baked until the cheese just started to brown, large tomato slices and a good amount of the requested meats. Both the sausage and the pepperoni were excellent, but the sausage outperformed the pepperoni. In fact, I would have preferred a little more participation from the latter, maybe with a touch more spiciness

Each pizzeria has a namesake combination, and after a bit of research, I discovered that many loyal fans highly recommend adding bacon, and who am I to dispute or dissuade myself from enjoying some bacon on a pizza? When I caught my first glimpse of Zois’s bacon-topped pie, I was intrigued. Instead of the usual crumbled bacon bits, they’d laid full, cooked slices on top of the cheese, a presentation I hadn’t seen in quite some time. One bite was all it took to win me over. The crisp rashers added crunch and a smoky, salty punch in every bite.

As many say in their assessment of pizza, how does a plain old slice stand up? And Zois does marvelously. With only crust-sauce-cheese, the pizza prepared by Zois was delicious, whether plain or with additional toppings, Zois’ is a major hit.

After fifty-five years, Zois Pizza remains a quiet testament to consistency, family, and pride in craft. From Zois Tzepos’s first pan pie in 1970 to Jim’s three millionth today, the Seymour landmark proves that tradition, family, and craftsmanship never go out of style. For anyone traveling the Connecticut Pizza Trail, this small-town spot deserves a well-earned stop. After all these years, Zois Pizza still delivers the kind of comfort that keeps me coming back.

48 Main St.

Seymour, CT 06483

(203) 888-1131

zoispizza.com

I finally made it to Christos Restaurant & Bar in Wallingford, the third pizzeria of Connecticut’s self-proclaimed Three Kings of Pizza. While the three brother-owners may share common DNA, the pizzas at each show a very different view of what pizza should entail.

When I arrived, I was pleased to see that Christos offers a fair amount of parking in its own parking lot. To avoid the usual snaking lines out the door, I timed my visit to coincide with the less crowded lunchtime. The interior is divided into three rooms, the pick-up / waiting area, the dining room and the bar. In total, there are 60-65 table seats for guests plus another ten chairs at the bar. The décor consists of natural woods and colors, and it is a very relaxing environment, whether seated at a table or in one of the booths.

The menu offers more than its legendary pizzas, including shareables, burgers, burritos, sandwiches, rice bowls and pastas, quite an eclectic array of options. But I was laser-focused on the pizza.

I ordered a small pie, half with sausage and the other half with pepperoni.

When the pizza arrived, the first thing I noticed was the high level of char. Not only was the crust overly charred in places, more than half of the cupped pepperoni circles were significantly darkened by the hot, wood-fired oven. The other item I noticed was the abundance of toppings, a lot of sauce and cheese, plus decent portions of pepperoni and sausage.

Pizzerias have several choices for the type of sausage they use, from crumbled to sliced to chunks, and I was pleased that Christo chose larger chunks; in my opinion, chunks give the best flavor and texture. I first removed and tried a piece of the sausage, and it was delicious, with noticeable fennel back notes. I next tasted one of the pepperoni slices and it delivered a nice level of spiciness. Both these meats were excellent, and I highly recommend. I next pulled a little smidgen of crust from the pie, and while several areas were heavily charred, the crust was really tasty.

After the pie cooled a bit (a big thank you to the server), I pulled a sausage slice away from the pie to check the underside, expecting more char to mimic the upper crust. I was surprised that it was dark tan color with minimal char marks. As I looked further towards the interior tip, I saw the unfortunate result of too much sauce and cheese, the crispness disappeared; there was no way it was going to withstand a lift and eat.

As much as I tried, it was impossible to lift (even by flopping the tip over), so it was onto plan B, cutting with my knife and fork. While the crust in the center was a little soggy, it still delivered great flavor, but there was a little too much sauce for my taste. With bite #2, I could now carefully lift the slice. While the sausage was able to handle the level of sauciness, the cheese took a serious back seat to the other two toppings. But my Bite #3 litmus test awaited, and by this time the slice had properly cooled. Result…the flavors melded much better and since we moved towards the outer crust the overall balance of the toppings was in better unison. It was a pretty good sausage slice. If I were to allocate the ingredients, I would say the sauce was sauce (50%), sausage (25%), cheese (15%) and the crust (10%), much too sauce-leaning.

Onto the other half. I was impressed with the cupping of the pepperoni (other than those that were burnt) and there was just a smidgen of oil in each. Even with the lighter weight of the pepperoni, it was impossible to lift the slice, and again I resorted to the fork and knife for bite #1. I liked the flavor balance with the spiciness of the pepperoni. The pepperoni side was better since the thin slices of pepperoni were bolder than the sausage. While the distribution of ingredients was similar to the sausage side, the pepperoni’s spiciness definitely created a more balanced taste; sauce (40%), sausage (35%), cheese (15%) and the crust (10%), better but still a little too sauce focused.

Overall, the basic tenets of the pizza at Christos were amazing, the crust, sauce, toppings were all delicious. While the kitchen tried to balance the crispiness of the crust and the charred edges with the level of toppings, they got a little ahead of themselves with too much sauce in the center of the pie. They also might have placed the pizza on the wrong spot in the oven (where a pizza was recently removed), which did not allow the crust to crisp properly in the center.

With the first visits to Connecticut’s self-proclaimed Three Kings of Pizza in the record book, I would rank them Luna (a 9.3), Christos (an 8.4), and Fuoco (a 7.5). 

Christos Restaurant & Bar

552 North Colony Rd

Wallingford CT 06492

203-294-4626