The Gluttoness — July 14, 2009

Soggy Pie, Fresh Produce

We’d heard the hype.

Rob and Rob of New York Magazine declared Franny’s “one of the city’s best pizzerias, period.”

Frank Bruni of The New York Times said Franny’s has “brought a new cachet (and vanity) to pizza making and pizza eating in this city,” though not without disclaiming, “As its menu broadened, pizzas became less consistent.”

It could be that we experienced the peak of inconsistency, but Franny’s heavily-charred, thoroughly flimsy pies were remarkably unspectacular. The dough’s lack of substance was made painfully clear when we struggled to cut the gummy bottom with a serrated knife. And while the Clam Pie had previously lived up to the hype, during our most recent visit, the seafood scent was lost amongst the blackened bubbles that overwhelmed its surface.

Franny’s was originally exalted as a game-changing pizzeria on Flatbush Avenue that was lauded for using premium ingredients. The current steady standouts are really salumi and seasonal appetizers (house-cured meats and a changing influx of exceptional produce). The owners, Francine Stephens and Andrew Feinberg, are so committed to locally and/or organically grown foods that they source ingredients on the back of their menu.

While much of Franny’s menu is vegetarian-friendly, our meal began with a meat sampler of Soppressata, extra fatty Pancetta and spicy Coppa (delightfully paired with a crisp 2007 Edi Keber Collio). A shallow terrine combined rillettes-like pork cheek and tender slices of beef tongue. The richness of the slow-cooked meats were properly balanced by cut cornichons and raw onion.

Sautéed Pole Beans had grill marks and were simply seasoned with Controne pepper (a subtle, fiery pepper from Campania, Italy) and a fresh squeeze of lemon. The result was simple but excellent— the beginning of several dishes that cleverly executed quality produce. Paper-thin slices of brilliant yellow and green Zucchini were served cold amongst Pine Nuts and Pecorino Rossellino. Purple-tinged, Marinated Squid Salad with cucumber slivers were dressed with a standard, tangy vinaigrette and the punch of raw red onion. Ramps were blended into butter and smeared on a Crostino, creating a vivid canvas for sizzling slices of pancetta. The least successful dish was the Stewed Peas. Even the crisp, house-made guanciale couldn’t conceal the fact that these mushy peas were more suited to a nursing home than one of Brooklyn’s hipster haunts.