Prime Pizza

The Pride of Altadena

It was my 33rd birthday last week, and what better way for a Jersey Boy to celebrate his birthday than a good old fashioned pizza party.

For much of the past year, I’ve had the pleasure of residing in the Los Angeles neighborhood of Altadena, in a mountainous enclave of hippies and artists known as the Zorthian Ranch (where we’ve been baking quite a lot of pizza and even some bagels, to which I plan to devote a future edition of the newsletter sometime soon).

I’ve grown quite fond of Altadena, with its wide traffic-free streets and inspiring views of the San Gabriel Mountains. Almost fond enough to call it home. Though home is a tricky subject for a roving reporter.

Nevertheless, it was at the Zorthian Ranch in Altadena that I found myself situated on the 33rd anniversary of my birth. To make things even more exciting, a close friend of mine who also spends time at the Ranch shares the very same birthday as I do: September 15.

It was a very hot day, and extremely sunny on the mountaintop, where we stay in a ramshackle collection of trailers and yurts, which offer a pleasingly rugged and simple lifestyle, but tend to bake in the heat. So my friends, the fellow birthday boy, 3 dogs, and I tumble into my pickup truck and rumble down the mountain to splash around in a cool-flowing creek nearby.

Ah, the joys of being a Californian.

Having worked up quite an appetite splashing around like children, we got back in the truck and chose to spend the afternoon eating pizza and ice cream, also like children.

The place I had in mind was Prime Pizza, a newly opened establishment that we learned about from the local natural wine shop down the street. Actually, there are a couple of Prime Pizzas in Los Angeles. But Altadena is their newest venture, and we were excited to check it out.

The first thing I perceived upon entering is that it’s a slice joint, where you can order simple slices over the counter. This can be hard to find in California. But they make full pies too. Better yet, a large cheese pizza costs just $23, which is a soothingly normal price for pizza pie, and quite a bargain for the Golden State.

Behind the glass was a reputable collection of fresh, thin crust New York-style pies with crispy charred crust just waiting to be gobbled up. There was pepperoni, white pizza, Sicilian, and even a vodka pie (the first one I’ve ever encountered outside of the Tristate area).

Off to a good start!

“Should we order a pie or slices?” I ask the group.

We ponder the menu as drool begins to fall from our lips.

I was relieved to see that everything was a genuinely reasonable price. Slices are quite large and $5 for the ones with toppings, which is about standard these days. They even make chicken parms and meatball subs, a staple of the East Coast (check out this praiseworthy offering from Mario’s in Clifton, NJ for a glimpse of the real deal).

I have absolutely struggled to find these hot subs at all in California, so praise be to Prime for adding them to the menu. I’ll have to come back sometime soon to try them.

A notable exception to the relative cheapness of the menu is the vegan pies, which are expensive. But I support this. Vegans should have to pay more to compensate for how annoying they are. Let them subsidize the rest of us.

The boldest of our group stepped up to the counter and ordered two slices for herself, setting the tone for the day. And just like that, a genuine pizza party ensued.

The first to hit the table were the Sicilians, and right of the bat, we knew this place was a winner. The marinara sauce on the grandma slice was absolutely bursting with flavor, and the fresh cherry tomatoes on top sent it over the edge into absolute deliciousness.

The crust was thick, but not too thick, with a strong crunch on the bottom and a doughy chewiness inside.

Next came a white pizza and a veggie slice. I’ve said before that white pizza isn’t my favorite, but the yumminess of this one was hard to deny. Note the contrast between the moistness of the fresh ricotta and the crisp on that Italian cheese blend.

After that came a BBQ chicken slice and a pepperoni. BBQ chicken is one of the few “weird” flavors that escapes my chagrin, since it debuted in the early 2000s when I was a young person, so I’ve become inculturated to it. Take a gander at that pepperoni tho. VERY crispy indeed. Too crispy? Possibly. But I’ll take a snappy char any day over that goopy, doughy, soft pizza that’s become the norm in California.

We doused these slices in parmesan, oregano, garlic powder, and red pepper flakes, readily available in SHAKERS, not those awful paper packets full of sawdust-flavored cheese that are so popular in the West.

Finally, the vodka came out. This is probably the most Jersey thing on the menu. Doesn’t that bright pink and orange sauce look so wonderful next to that green basil?

Now this is a hometown staple that I would love to see get more popular in California. One bite and I’m transported back to the Garden State and family gatherings with massive tinfoil trays heaping with baked ziti and penne with vodka sauce (pronounced “penny with vocka sawce”) that we would gorge on, then take home and subsist off of the rest of the week.

Jersey readers know exactly what I’m talking about.

I’m sure you can tell this place already won me over, but just to be sure, let’s do a quick fold test.

Yup, she passes with golden colors. And get a load of that char! Magnificent.

If that weren’t enough, my birthday twin ordered a round of garlic knots for the table.

Soft, moist, chewy, garlicky, delicious.

During my days as a busboy at Tony’s Brother’s Pizza in NJ, I used to survive off garlic knots. I could easily eat a dozen in a single shift, washed down with root beer that we would secretly spike with vodka when the waitstaff wasn’t looking.

Another thing we used to do was go down to the basement, open the desert freezer, stick our heads inside, and huff the cold air. There must have been some kind of chemical in there, because we would emerge higher than a kite. It was kind of like doing whippets, but instead of partying with your friends, you’re wearing a greasy apron and have to promptly climb a flight of stairs to interact with the general public while trying to dodge your boss.

Man, being 17 sure is hilarious.

To cap it all off, someone had the fantastic idea to order Italian Ice, which I’m sure isn’t all that rare, but is something I personally haven’t eaten a single time since moving to California. Fruity and sweet with a velvety smooth texture, it’s the perfect dessert on a hot summer’s day.

For the third time in one meal, I am viscerally transported, this time to summer afternoons on Erskine Lake in my hometown of Ringwood, a time before cell phones or Google maps, when kids still ran wild and free though the neighborhood and summer was synonymous with freedom.

My mother would give us a dollar or two to buy Italian ice from the snack stand, and we would walk barefoot down the hill and around the bend to a teeny tiny restaurant that probably doesn’t exist anymore. Italian Ice in hand, we wandered down to the beach to enjoy our frosty treat with a view that looked like this:

Actual photo of Erskine lake sometime in the 2000s.

Thanks, Prime, for sending me down memory lane.

FINAL THOUGHTS: Prime Pizza is an absolute gem to be cherished. I have no idea whether the other locations are this good, but I imagine they’re close if not better. Good prices, fantastic pizza, and an authentic menu make this place a no brainer. Bonus points for being in Altadena, which is slowly becoming my favorite neighborhood in LA. The birthday boy is pleased.

WEST COAST: 10

EAST COAST: 9