I embarked on a journey to discover and hone my craft, share stories and spread joy along the way…
Early beginnings: a family affair.
Food has been at the core of my family’s story. My earliest memories growing up all center around my family’s rambunctious dinner table. My grandmother was an exceptional cook, and her legendary challah (the traditional Jewish sabbath bread) was the first loaf of bread I fell in love with. I come from a long lineage of food purveyors, from my great-grandfather who grew one of the first supermarket businesses in America, to my grandfather who took over that company and was a respected leader in the grocery industry, to my parents who were innovators in the wholesale and specialty food distribution business. Visiting farms, eating nourishing meals, and obsessing over food and cooking are the DNA of my family. As I embark on my own journey as a food entrepreneur, I feel like I am returning to my roots.
Learning from the maestros.
I studied classic French cuisine and pastry at Le Cordon Bleu. But my cooking and baking education has come from the masters of the craft that I look up to and learn from: My grandmother and mother growing up, and in college, my dear friend Kadir, the proprietor of a renowned wood-fired pizza joint in New Haven, CT. It was at Kadir’s restaurant where I truly fell in love with pizza and saw the power of a humble pizzeria as a community center - a hub of life for a neighborhood. In the last few years, since diving into pizza making and working at this craft full-time, I’ve had the honor of learning from some of the greatest pizzaioli in the world. From training with Jeff Krupman in San Francisco (PizzaHacker) and learning the art of naturally leavened fermentation to studying under one of the godfathers of New York style pizza, John Arena (Metro Pizza in Las Vegas), to learning from a true maestro pizzaiolo of the Neapolitan tradition, Jonathan Goldsmith (Spacca Napoli in Chicago), I owe my pizza journey to the legends I have been grateful to learn from.
Pizza as a platform.
My mentor John Arena is fond of using the Japanese zen expression “ichi-go ichi-e,” translated as “for this time only.” He uses it to describe the power of making a dough ball, stretching it into a pizza, baking it to perfection, and serving it to those around you. He explained that each dough ball represents a chance to show what’s in your heart and offer up a part of your soul to the people you are providing your pizza to. In my relatively short time making pizzas professionally, I have found this to be so true. During my pop-up in the summer of 2019 in the hills of rural Western Massachusetts, I saw time and time again the power of a tiny little portable pizza oven to entertain and create joy and spark conversation between strangers. For a month straight, I cooked pizzas every night under a pop-up tent under the New England summer sky. My humble pizza making station became a hub of life and bustling with activity. I shared stories of my dough and my loyal sourdough starter with my guests as I stretched pies. I explained the pizza making process and intricacies of my oven. Strangers started talking to each other, sitting at communal picnic tables, and sharing pizza and conversation with one another. When I make pizza, I tell stories, explain the process, and share what’s in my heart. It’s a communal food, and it’s meant to be shared, talked over, and enjoyed in the company of others. It creates community. This is integral to why I am a pizza maker.