Though its owners have enjoyed relatively considerable success in the restaurant biz, Totale Pizza still seems like the benevolent pizza underdog whose innocent yet manipulative puppy eyes command your praise and support.  Not only is it a little late to the wood-fired world of personalized Neapolitan pies (behind Motorino, Keste, Paulie Gee’s), but its barely-there existence on the flashy, seedy St. Marks strip and unlikely Fanny Brice-Nicky Arnstein of a management duo designate Totale as unassuming, if not a little peculiar. Perhaps it is this mystery (and a worthy mention in New York Magazine’s  ”Cheap Eats” guide of 2010) that draws twenty-somethings like myself, salt-and-pepper couples, and groups of tourists to its modest, black and white-tiled dining room.  After all, it’s not every day that a local ingredient, gourmet pie type shacks up with a man whose living is earned selling dollar slices to drunken coeds and babbling hobos.

I don’t care what these dudes’ pizza background is — they definitely know their way around a menu and a restaurant in general.  Both Gregory Ryzhkov and Eli Halali greet customers outside the pizzeria’s open facade and constantly circle the restaurant, making their customers feel welcome and pampered.  Not only does this create a warm presence within the restaurant, but it really demonstrates Ryzhkov and Halali’s endearing pride and confidence in their product.

I ordered the margherita pie ($9), and Jessica and I split the arugula salad ($5) and Totale pie ($10). Not bad prices when compared to Motorino, eh Georgie boy? Unless your idea of fun is shelling out $16 for raw basil and sea salt, which I could just as easily taste by toting some weeds to Manhattan Beach. The arugula salad was bigger than my head (that’s saying something). It was certainly fresh and simple, incorporating arugula, red onions, and pecorino romano, but a bit too heavy on the salt and lemon juice.  Each bite was shockingly sour.  The pecorino romano was the best I’ve ever had at a restaurant.  Instead of tasting like nondescript Swiss cheese, it was sharp and dry.

The margherita pie (pictured above) was definitely an upgrade from its competitors. The middle was soupy but not heavy, only saturating the very tip of the triangle. The crust was slightly charred, giving it that gentle scraping sound as it was torn, chewed, and cut. The outside was crisp and pocked by dark blotches; the interior bready.  Some basil, blackened at the tip, was scattered at the center.   The sauce tasted like fresh tomatoes, a teeny bit sweet but balanced by the haphazard fleck of sea salt.

The Totale pie, the restaurant’s signature, subtly combined sweet, salty, and earthy flavors into one unique whole. Thin wisps of red onion sweetened the pie, while the pecorino romano and sea salt provided contrasting flavor.  I usually hate sweet, but the onions were just baked, not caramelized, so the pie wasn’t cloying.  Inch-long fragments of rosemary and pine nuts garnished the top.  Though this is supposedly the must-try pie, I think I was more of a margherita fan. Don’t get me wrong — I still thought this pie was excellent.

I’m not usually in the East Village much, so when I’m back in the hood I like to hit all my old haunts. Jess and I headed over to Sundaes & Cones. S&C’s varied selection of flavors and creamy, lightly wet ice cream texture make mixing and matching ideal — the scoops just blend together inside a cup.  Jess wanted to imitate a Ferrero Rocher candy and ordered chocolate and hazelnut, while I got mint chip and chocolate fudge swirl.  I think the chocolate fudge swirl and hazelnut are my two new favorite options.  Chocolate swirl had clouds of vanilla and fudge puddles, while the hazelnut had a natural, barely sweetened flavor.