So much for trying to be spontaneous on a Sunday evening for dinner. We figured we try out the new Colony Grill in Fairfield for some pizza, and to see how it stacks up to the original in Stamford. As you can tell from the title that's not where we ended up.
After being out and about most of the day, we were groggy and couldn't muster the motivation to brainstorm and then physically prepare dinner for ourselves. We should have known 3 out of 5 people in the area felt the same way. The new Colony, big, open, very sports bar, was hopping and we were looking at a 30 minute wait. I was incredulous and gestured with a rapid wave of my index finger to the hostess that we couldn't be expected to linger at the front door for that long.
We had options though; Pepe's in Fairfield, Molto in Fairfield, Rizzuto's in Westport, Paradise Pizza in Stratford, which had been recommended to us as a local spot in our new surroundings. We got on I-95 and headed for exit 24 and Pepe's, figuring it's been open long enough that on a "random" Sunday like this one there shouldn't be that many people with hankerings for pizza. Strike two. This time we didn't even get out of the car as we saw the line of people snaking out the door. Saps!
We thought about widening the search with Asian or bbq, but in the end we decided to stick with pizza, albeit at a more "bells and whistles" kind place, Pizzeria Molto. Of course now we realized lots of people were out and about, and why not? The rain had taken the heat down about 20 degrees and it was breathtaking. So we waited at the bar, where we got the requisite drink even though we'd had a late night Saturday and I really just wanted a diet coke or something to wake me up. "So I guess we're in it for at least a couple beers now because I'm not going to drink water with my pizza and I've just ordered beer number 1."
For a while before it opened, Molto was supposed to be an Obika, the mozzarella bar. "Locations in Rome, Turin, Tokyo, London, New York, and soon to be Fairfield...Connecticut. That's Connect-i-cut." Maybe they realized that and pulled the plug. So then the sign in the window changed to Molto, which made me think Mario Batali/Joe Bastianich were pushing the boundary of their empire another few miles from their most recent outpost at Portchester. But no, this place has nothing to do with them even though it looks like it could.
It's a narrow space with a bar running practically the length of the dining room, and elevated booths on the opposite wall. Carrara countertop on the bar, white and black tiled floor and vintage posters round out the look. High ceilings make it pretty loud, but in the nicer weather they have a good amount of sidewalk seating, something kind of rare in these parts. Since it was the first day in a while suited to dining al fresco, we waited the extra few minutes for it and got a nice booth to ourselves.
They quickly brought out our sliced bread and olive for dipping, spiked with lots of red pepper. Unfortunately the oil might as well have been canola. Now I'm not going to deliver a diatribe at length about this, since the bread and olive oil is a gimme at italian restaurants now. But unlike butter, which for years as the standard just had to be salty and not margarine, olive oil can't just lubricate bread as it goes down your throat. It should be more than greasy; peppery or grassy, deep golden to green. I mean, we ate all the bread with it, but as simple as the issue is, it bears mention. It could easily be so good, so it's a shame when it's not.
We ordered a couple salads and split a Margherita pizza. The salads came first; Caesar with chicken for Nicole, Gardiniera for me with mozz, marinated eggplant and artichokes, white beans and greens. The salads were decent, refreshing, well seasoned though Nicole thought mine was bland after her salty dressing. I'm not going to be a snob, ok maybe just a little, but the mozzarella, fresh as you expect around here, left me wanting. Arggguile, I'm going to have to get used to settling for the time being because I can't afford to hire a courier to fly me balls of it from Campania every day on a supersonic plane.
They let us finish our salads and sit for a few minutes before bringing out the pizza, with another round ordered in between. The pizza came hot but not 'instantly burn the tip of your tongue' hot, which was good. They do their Margherita up with sauce, cheese, basil, and some cherry tomatoes scattered about.
Forkless and plateless at first, we went at it. Molto's is brick oven pizza, pretty thin crust, not super crunchy on the outside. For me the oven isn't hot enough because there was little or no char on the bottom. The bread was not really chewy either, more inclined to tear with a little effort. Not necessarily a bad thing, just an observation. Neither of us was a huge fan of the sauce; too saucy in that it had too much sweetness, too much dried oregano. We're both of the opinion that on Margherita the tomato should be just that; tomato, raw when it goes in, quickly cooked and thickened by a super hot oven. The cheese stretched and pulled nicely, not greasy, just enough of it.
We were satisfied, leaving literally one bite on the plate when we were both full with a piece to go. The pizza wasn't bad but not good enough to make Molto a landmark like Pepe's the original or Colony the original. No matter though because Molto is more than just a dive turned into destination over the years, it's urban-inspired wine bar italian. That was our second time, and the first time we enjoyed the italian small plates like lamb chops and fried artichokes. For a place calling itself a wine bar they don't have the biggest or greatest selection though, nor do they go out of their way to offer up choices by the glass. Maybe they just don't have the room.
What I was looking for Sunday night was a dive kind of experience, a landmark where we could choose from half a dozen types of pizza and beer or soda. Instead we had a nice date, so I can't complain.
Pizzeria Molto
1215 Post Road, Fairfield, CT
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