My new favorite pizza place is 80 years old

This Valentine’s Day was no epic affair for Rene and I. You see, I’m the planner in our relationship and usually when we have a plan to go somewhere specific, it’s because I found the place/made the reservation/bought the tickets/etc. And though I’m painfully sentimental, I’m no romantic. Rene, on the other hand, is. But he’s all about the spontaneous thoughtful gestures as opposed to the grandiose, once-in-a-lifetime ones. This Valentine’s Day, we decided to keep it simple and just do dinner and a movie. I bought tickets to see The Monuments Men but failed to make a dinner reservation.

On the way to the theater, we passed a few restaurants on Court Street, all of which were packed. Just when we began to worry we wouldn’t have time to eat before the movie, we walked by Sam’s, whose old-school awning that could’ve easily come from the set of The Sopranos, grabbed my attention. I did not point it out, knowing that Italian food isn’t Rene’s cup of tea but surprisingly, he suggested we go in.

The restaurant is located two steps below ground level, which gives it a comforting vibe and makes the outside world seem further away than it really is. Inside, it does not feel like a restaurant - it’s more like the homey wood-paneled basement of your Italian uncle’s Staten Island townhouse. The place is deeper that it is wide and it’s lined with red pleather banquettes; the tables are draped in red plastic.

The menu features some antipasti, classics like pasta and meatballs, veal scallopina and chicken cacciatore, and pizza. The pizza comes in one size - very large - and additional toppings are available as desired, but you won’t find any imported speck or fresh arugula here. All the words on the menu are safely pronounceable - there’s nothing you can order at Sam’s that will display your foodie prowess and painfully acquired Williamsburg tastes. Everyone orders the same stuff and it’s equalizing.

We ordered a mushroom pizza. I kept checking my watch after the waiter had gone, afraid that we’d be late to the movie (spoiler alert: it sucked) and the waiter noticed. He came over and told me to relax. I said that we had a movie to catch and he told me not to worry and to let him know when we were ready and that he’d be sure to wrap up the rest of the pie in no time. When he brought the pie, he gave us the check as well so we wouldn’t have to wait for it later, which was really thoughtful.

The pizza was a total knockout - a nice chewy dough, a fresh and particularly acidic tomato sauce, and creamy melted mozzarella. The whole thing had a pleasant fiery aroma from the brick oven. The mushrooms were sliced slightly thicker than would be expected, which helped them stand out instead of disappearing in the saucy abyss.

When the waiter returned with our change, I asked if the restaurant had really been there for 80 years as the awning advertised. He confirmed and also shared that it’ll be his 50th year working there this May and that he’d grown up just upstairs from the restaurant. I realized this place really was his home and felt grateful to have had dinner there.

So no, I may not recall this Valentine’s Day years from now, but I’ll remember the pizza.