Walking up Second Avenue to meet my friend Diana for dinner at Nicoletta on 10th Street, I felt like a tourist visiting the foreign nation of NYU-istan for the first time. I had once lived in this neighborhood. I spent 10 years on the corner of 17th and 3rd. But I’ve spent the past five years in Brooklyn’s Cobble Hill and Heights and, well, things have changed in the old ‘hood. The neighborhood where you’ll find Nicoletta—an astonishingly (not surprisingly) good pizza place from the maestro of Italian cuisine, Michael White—seems to be part dorm room, part frat party, and 100% coed. Gone are the days of the original Palladium. Most kids parade around in their cut off jean shorts and tanks, their flip flops flopping along the concrete in quick succession as they flutter through 16 Handles, Liquiteria, Trader Joes, Five Guys, and Urban Outfitters in quick succession. These parts are summer camp for NYU kids, and it’s a little jarring to navigate the whirlwind of cosmic youth. But these are smart kids, and they know good pizza. You’ll probably get to know many of them as you line up for the beautiful pies being wood-fired at Nicoletta.

To be honest, I was a little worried that I would be proofed and found too old to enter, and be sent home for being over 40. Thankfully, I was not rejected. Apparently, others over 30, 40, and 50 were also granted entrance despite its location in NYU-istan. The 58-seat restaurant, decorated simply with exposed brick and an open kitchen—where a team of serious pizza makers knead rounds of soft dough with such tenderness you’d think they were in infant massage school—was serving everyone from toddler to retiree. Hey, good pizza does not discriminate; it takes the youngest eaters in quickly and has no age limit. I know Emily would’ve eaten this pizza at birth. Who needs pureed organic carrots when you can have a Carbonara pie, topped with salsa Bianca, prosciutto, romano cheese, eggs and pepper? Would you eat mashed pees or the Patate—topped with Yukon gold potatoes, slab bacon, mozzarella and scallions? Likewise, the Maialona—with pepperoni, fennel sausage, onions, Gaeta olives and mozzarella cheese.

Given the waits outside (unfortunately, there is no bar to wait at inside), the decision to open Nicoletta was clearly a good one. The pizzeria marks the fourth New York City restaurant form the Altamarea Group owned by Chef Michael White and former Merrill co-President Ahmass Fakahany (their others include Marea (2009), Osteria Morini (2010), and Ai Fiori (2010). The restaurant was born of customer frustration with the lack of pizza presence on the menus of their other more formal Italian iterations. “We are often asked why we do not offer pizza in New York given our range of Italian cuisine. We both love pizza and in the end did not have a good answer," said Chef White.

To the drawing board White went. Certainly, he’s not the first fancy chef to turn his sights on a pizzaiola. Mathieu Palombino left a shiny career at BLT to open Motorino, and he has never looked back. (I love his pizza, don’t you?) After all, pizza is to Italian food what the burger is to American, so the paradigm of branching out into this more pedestrian fare in these times of financial woe makes all whole lotta sense. Nonetheless White wanted to add to the pizza revolution, not replicate what was already on the stage. For his part, White honed his Midwestern roots for his take on the Italian classic. Indeed, what makes the pizza at Nicoletta worth braving the teenage world of NYU-istan is the crust: White’s rendition is an homage to his childhood favorite, distinguished by a Palermitana-style crust, typical of Midwestern pizza parlors.

This means the substantial high-heat crust is chewy but airy, crunchy but pliable all at the same time. It’s everything you’ve ever hoped a pizza crust would be, but were afraid to dream of. And what comes on top makes the dream one you will not want to wake from. So take your time in REM.

Diana and I chose two pies to share. Though one pie can certainly easily feed two people comfortably, it’s impossible to pick just one. So don’t torture yourself, order many and take home the leftovers. (Or make friends with the table next to you and agree to each get one and share—the tables are so tightly spaced you won’t have to reach far, and you’ll have made a new friend, perhaps one you can meaningfully connect with later on via Facebook or Twitter!)

In either case, do try the Tartufata ($22), topped with mozzarella, crema di tartufo, prosciutto cotto, and roasted wild mushrooms. The ruffled roasted mushrooms are earthy and more elegant than any pizza pie has ever seen, and the prosciutto cotto is layered in such abundance you’d almost think it was looking for a sandwich and got lost along the way, only to wind up under a bubbly blanket of fresh mozzeralla. The Calabrese is also a pin-up: topped with checkers-sized slices of thick-cut pepperoni, homemade fennel sausage, red onions, pomodoro, and mozzarella ($21). It arrived at our table to a hush of whispers from our neighbors; it was like we had been joined for dinner by Emma Stone. Food envy was in the air.

Certainly, if you don’t care to have a pre-ordained pie, make your own from a base of tomatoes, whole-milk mozzarella, and pecorino romano, and add on your own meats, vegetables, and cheeses. It’s doubtful you will go wrong.

While pizza is the star here, the menu also offers a traditional antipasto. We started with a summery salad of zucchini blossoms stuffed with cheese, topped with tomatoes, basil and sweet corn scraped from its milky cob. But you might try one of the snacks like the brick-oven baked Neapolitan meatballs pomodoro ($10), whole stuffed squid al forno, with soppressata and bread crumbs, or confit fried chicken thigh, with primosale cheese, broccoli rabe, and Calabrian hot chili vinegar ($10).

For dessert, the restaurant offers one wonderful option: soft-serve fior di latte gelato. While you have no choice as to gelato flavor, you do have a world of garnish opportunity, including warmed Nutella, crushed torrone, blueberry limoncello sauce, and chocolate-covered espresso beans. Our waitress, an efficient and knowledgeable type, shared her favorite topping combination: pistachio brittle and salted caramel. We took her up on her suggestion. This might have been the best advice I’ve gotten in the past decade. I would seek her out for stock tips if her financial acumen is anywhere as good as her topping tips. But even without the killer toppings, this was the gelato to end all gelatos. The custard is luscious, soft and smooth, and suffused with sweet cream. To this pristine almost innocent palate, adding that slap of salt, sweet, and crunch was almost criminal. But I’d do it all over again. Those coeds aren't so bad after all. 

Nicoletta is located at 160 Second Avenue, 212-432-1600. Lunch and dinner are served seven days a week from 11:30am to 3am. No reservations. Pizza is available for dine-in, take out and delivery service.

Andrea Strong