By Providence Cicero
Special to The Seattle Times

Even faster than a favorite old song, a familiar smell can propel you deep into your past. When I opened the door of A New York Pizza Place and inhaled the scent of fresh dough, basil, oregano and garlic, I wasn't in Seattle anymore; I was in a pizzeria in Greenwich Village a quarter of a century ago.

Big Apple memorabilia crowd the walls. Among the treasures is the framed full-frontal coverage by the New York Daily News of Mickey Mantle's 500th home run.

Owner Todd Peltz charms customers in a New York minute, giving crossword-puzzle advice, taking toddlers on a tour of the kitchen, asking the nearest female "Wanna dance?" when an oldie with a good beat plays over the radio. The fast-talking ex-Brooklynite has the right accent — and the right personality — to be tossing pizzas in a joint with red-checked tablecloths, black-and-white floors, a self-serve cooler full of pop, and pizza by the slice.

Peltz has been rolling dough in Seattle since 1983, first downtown and now in this fragrant Maple Leaf storefront that also houses his East Coast Dough Co., which wholesales frozen pizzas and dough to 30 area stores, among them PCC, Larry's Markets and Central Market.

Pizza isn't the only item on the menu. You'll find calzones, hot and cold heros, salads, spaghetti with meatballs and baked ziti.

Baked ziti also happens to loom large in my past. This Italian-American answer to macaroni and cheese was the main dish at many family gatherings of my youth.

"Try it, you'll like it," I urge my youngster. "It's like mac-and-cheese, only with red sauce and mozzarella and bigger noodles, like penne."

She goes for it. Soon a server delivers a bowl of spaghetti clumped with cheese. My daughter raises an eyebrow, and I say, "We ordered the ziti."

"Right," says the waitress, "That's the way we make baked ziti here, with spaghetti."

OK, so fuggeddabout the ziti, but do yourself a favor and go for the pizza or the meatball hero or the fresh garlic-and-herb breadsticks — and snag a red licorice on your way out the door.

Check please

Pizza: Plain cheese is $2 by the slice; adding two or three toppings can tack on another dollar. So we ordered a whole 18-inch pie — half "Mickey Mantle" (pepperoni, sausage, olives, red onion) and half "The A Train" (Kalamata olives, roasted garlic, sweet peppers) — and ended up with enough leftovers for another meal. The meats and cheeses are good quality, and the veggies are cut small so they cook well. The crust is thin and foldable, essential to New Yorkers, and it achieves a nice crunch.

Salad: Saturated with a sweet oil-and-vinegar dressing (bleu cheese, ranch and Caesar are also available), this fresh mix of greens with tomato, cucumber, olives and whatever else the chef feels like tossing in is riddled with delicious bits of roasted garlic and red pepper. It's already plenty for two, but add a buck more and they'll make it really large.

Meatball hero: Three substantial meatballs, firm and savory, a ladle of thick, faintly sweet marinara sauce, melted mozzarella and shreds of Parmesan are cradled in a crusty, warm hunk of Italian bread. It's a meal and then some.

Copyright © 2002 Providence Cicero. Used by permission.

I got not one but two calls from a fast-talking guy who claimed this new joint called A New York Pizza Place was just that, and more. "Best pizza I ever had!" he crowed in an accent not unlike Tony Danza's. Besides the fact that pizza, and all its possibilities, belongs to its very own food group in my mind, I was curious—and hungry. I brought two trusty chums with me, and we headed north battling the confusing freeway hop near 85th NE and Roosevelt Way in the Maple Leaf 'hood. We parked ourselves at the amiably huge metal counter and ordered a mess of treats: spaghetti and homemade (delicate, if you can say that about ground beef) meatballs in a tangy marinara sauce ($6.25), house green salads ($3.75, adorned with bits of burned garlic, an acquired but wonderfully loamy taste), and a mother of a pizza, with anchovies, onions, and artichoke ($10.50 for 18-inch, $9 for 15-inch, slices $1.85- $2.45; specialty pies can run to $20; 20-plus selection of toppings extra). The pizza was perfectly cooked, the pizza sauce wonderful, and the crust! It tasted like the dough rose with the help of air blowing off the Hudson; it was enough to make me gobble up the last crumbs of my first slice. New York-born Todd Peltz, the proud owner (whose voice sounds suspiciously like Tony Danza's), recently brought his 14-year Columbia Center business to a residential location and is making a go. His equally proud parents showed up, and were soon busy schmoozing customers and folding pizza boxes. Of the move to the north, Papa Peltz said, "When all is said and done, [the Columbia Center] is just an office building." Let's hope the Maple Leaf neighbors take advantage and give Pagliacci a run for its business. I, for one, will willingly subject myself to I-5 traffic to get another slice of the real thing. 8310 Fifth NE, 524-1355. Daily 11am- 9pm, closed Sun. $--Emily Baillargeon Russin

Copyright © 2001 The Seattle Weekly. Used by permission.