Yes, we’re all tired of standing in line for the hottest new food in NYC. And yet, here we are, still waiting under the blazing sun for the chance to score a pie from the new pizza shop Ceres. After a buzzy opening due to the quality of the slices and the pedigree of the chefs (how often do Eleven Madison Park alums open a slice shop?), a nod from Dave Portnoy’s viral pizza reviews and a shout-out from Jimmy Fallon made it nearly impossible to get your hands on a pie.
Now that the folks at Ceres have become more accustomed to being the belle of the pizza ball, they’ve got a good system for slinging ‘em out from their tiny oven on Mott Street. You’ll have to show up hours before you’re ready to eat (they open at 11:30am), wait for your chance to put your name down inside their frills-free shop, and then wait…again. The menu is limited, but you’ll just have to trust the process.
Go for the white pie, topped with crème fraîche, sweet onions and salty, buttery pancetta, and then covered with a celebratory handful of chive confetti. The cheese, too, is a classic, but never plain, packed with San Marzano tomatoes and firm, fresh scamorza and then finished with half-melted, sharp-ish cheese and pocked with little burnt bubbles from the oven’s heat. Every pie is served on top of a crust inspired by the crispy-crunchy, airy-chewy joy of baguettes.
Pie prices can soar to $60—the ‘nduja, made with pork, burrata and aged balsamic for a spicy-and-sweet bite, is the spendiest—so be prepared for a little sticker shock. Then again, the “Mommy’s Little Meatball” shirts at the shop down the street cost half that, and you’ll get a whole lot more use out of the memory of a Ceres slice.
The vibe: Line-y, sceney, spendy, and worth every second (and penny).
The food: Elevated pizzas in the New York neighborhood where the humble pie was born.
The drink: Mexican Cokes, Mexican Sprites and orange sodas will cool you down after your wait on Mott Street.
Time Out tip: Stop by early to put your name in for a pie, then expect to wait a few hours—the perfect amount of time to stroll the neighborhood while you work up an appetite.