Why Clam-Chowder Pizza Is the Best Kind
(Maybe/Maybe not, but want to share! I'm a New Yorker, after all!)
'Some winter nights when my heart is tight, I take the F train from work to stand on the sidewalk in front of the plate-glass window at Lucali, the famed, candlelit pizzeria on Henry Street in Brooklyn, and watch Mark Iacono make pizza. His movements are slow, deliberative. They resemble a jungle cat, grooming. The dough moves back and forth in his hands, slowly growing in circumference. Iacono barely looks at it. He looks at the people in the dining room, though his gaze is middle-distance unfocused. His pizza-making is a meditation. Pizza-making should be a meditation. I go home and make pizza.
On other suffering evenings, I walk down the echoing corridors and ramps of Grand Central Terminal and make my way to a stool in the Oyster Bar for a pan roast. I like the cherrystone version better than the oyster one and, especially, the rich interplay of the clam juice and the cream, the way it soaks into the toast points floating in the center of the bowl. I do not make pan roasts at home. Pan roasts should be made only in the steam kettles of the Grand Central Oyster Bar. But I do make clam chowder, and I float toast points on top of it, and that is what John Cheever called a triumph over chaos, every time.
Lately I’ve been doing both, at once: clam-chowder pizza, a balm against the pain of the world. It was probably Frank Pepe who invented the clam pizza, in New Haven, scattering freshly shucked littlenecks onto a round of dough, then pecorino cheese, garlic, oregano, black pepper and a torrent of olive oil. That was in the 1940s, according to his family, which still operates Frank Pepe Pizzeria Napoletana on Wooster Street there.'>>>
https://www.nytimes.com/2017/01/12/magazine/why-clam-chowder-pizza-is-the-best-kind.html?
= new reply since forum marked as read
you know, many don't 'believe in' Manhattan Clam Chowder, the kind I grew up with! 
