Brick Oven Gallery

I worked in two pizza restaurants as a high school student. The first served pies on thick, sourdough crust, used high-​quality meats and heaps of fresh vegetables. The second rolled paper-​thin pizza dough into shallow, well-​oiled pans and decorated their pizzas with meats of dubious grade, cheeses of astounding elasticity and as many canned vegetables as vendors offered.
I preferred the latter to the former by a slim margin.
Brick Oven Gallery offers a compromise between the two, albeit a Rupert Murdoch-​style compromise in favor of thin-​crust pizza. I was lucky enough to visit their pizzeria with friends from home while a neighborhood carnival was parked on their city block.
I should be stated that my friends had been in and enjoyed the sights and sounds of three boroughs on this day, so their pedometers gleamed like Neo’s epiphany in The Matrix and their appetites were large and well deserved. We sidestepped an unruly but avuncular man at the cusp of the storefront and were seated at one of twenty or so smallish tables. We ordered a few Brooklyn Lagers to slake our thirst and I was reminded of the floral aftertaste about which I am still ambivalent: this day I liked it. We were served a basket of warm, savory bread (pizza dough with oregano and garlic salt (presumably) and began to peruse the menu.
Our waitress was the personification of restrained conflict. Her head had been shorn of its feminine locks at least a month back and she seemed to be testing its return, unsure of whether to use George Clooney’s early ER look or return to Natalie Portman’s recent V for Vendetta mishap; meanwhile, her garb was being tugged between tomboy and peasant chic. When we asked her to make recommendations she seemed relieved to gain a temporary reprieve from these warring, interior factions.
We settled upon the traditional appetizer of mozzarella, tomatoes and fresh basil and a salad of fresh arugula, roasted red peppers and sun-​dried tomatoes. While these arrived I asked my friends to order the pizzas and they settled upon the Jillie’s Special (sausage, sun-​dried tomato and extra mozzarella) and the Lizzy B’s (goat cheese, wild mushrooms and truffle oil).
As soon as we began sipping our beer a brass band careened off the tracks of the carnival into the pizzeria. Their several trumpets, trombones and tuba undertook the task of unnerving me and were rewarded for their efforts with large glasses of white wine. This was thought to be a rare treat by our host, the unruly and avuncular man outside, so I took it as one and enjoyed those minutes when the cessation of conversation was replaced with loud, tinny kitsch.
The appetizer was passable, but unremarkable. The problem was not execution. This dish, in my opinion, depends on the tomato and the tomatoes were average. The arugula salad was delicious. The sun-​dried tomatoes were very moist as though they had been reconstituted and, maybe, blanched (they did not overpower). The roasted peppers were warm and butter and the grassiness of the pepper had ceded to its sugars. The arugula was very fresh, almost feral with a sincerely peppery attitude. The leaves bounded on the plate like middling students who had swapped their prescription medicines. The two appetizers were more than enough to share for three and probably could have used the digestive will of a fourth.
When the pizzas arrived they filled the air with the of fired wholesomeness. They were cut in quarters and a thin halo of cheese was annealing to the outer edge of the crust. The goat cheese gave off the aroma of a finicky, ruminant animal who preferred flowers and lemony grasses. Mushrooms and truffle oil made were its perfect populist retort. The sausage was lean and well flavored, and, thankfully, there was no grease. the mozzarella held the flavors of the pizza and mollified the competition between the sausage and, more, sun dried tomatoes.
The crust was blackened in parts but not burnt: the tenacity and resiliency of the dough admitted they were no match for such an inferno. The inferno was magnanimous in its treatment of the dough.
The ingredients were simple and few. The fresh produce and finer meats and cheeses of my first pizzeria job were plied to the principles and philosophy of the second. There were at least for other pizzas I was intrigued by. If you see a funnel cake vendor or a ring toss booth out front, however, be forewarned.

So sad to say that Brick Oven Gallery is no longer… ;0(
Happy to report that Kenny has reopened only two blocks away on N.9^th
and Havemeyer. You can see the new location from the old one, a big neon sign «KENNY’S». There is sadly no longer any pizza, because the new space doesn’t have a brick oven. To Kenny’s credit if he can’t make a pizza the right way (in a brick oven) then no pizza. He has more than made up for it with the most amazing home-​made pastas…
R.I.P. Brick Oven Gallery… Long Live Kenny’s
I PROMISE THAT YOU WILL NOT BE LET DOWN.

Oh noooooooooooooo! I just read what Doug G. wrote. This is truly bad news.
This is by far my favorite Italian restaurant in the neighborhood. Tucked away, romantic and delicious. The pizzas are out of this world. I would eat there every night if I could.
I’m hoping they find a new place soon.

***BOG is closed. They are no longer at 33 Havemeyer St but plan on relocating at some point in the future (near future, I hope!)***
I have been to BOG a few times over the years and always enjoyed it. The salads were always fresh and tasty and the pizza, well the pizza was just delicious.
The atmosphere inside the restaurant was laid back and casual… cool without trying to be cool (unlike many other neighborhood spots). I was sad to walk to it for dinner one night to find it closed up. The owners are claiming they are looking for a new location. I really hope they find one and it is still within walking distance!

tartufo bianca pizza unnnnhhhnnnn so goooooood
when i die, i want to be buried in truffle oil and goat cheese. inform my loved ones.

If you want great brick oven pizza, and not much else — go to this place.
It was 90 and windy on a Wednesday night during a heatwave. Babe and I were walking back to Graham Ave. from the waterfront park. The garden was closed at Fada. The garden was warm at Aqua Santa. Babe suggested Fornino, but I don’t want to be near Bedford on a hot, post-​rush hour night. So here we were, stumbling on Brick Oven Gallery. It looked like a fun place without design-​y trappings. The clipped reviews behind the window looked were poorly framed and looked 20 years old (they weren’t). We took a risk.
Note that we’re in the big tomatoe scare, so we couldn’t try all the things we wanted. We did two salads and a pizza. The appetizers were «meh». The spinach salad with mushrooms was «meh». The mushrooms were cooked in balsamic vinegar, but with no other imagination. The baby spinach was like what I get from the Korean market after three days. The roasted peppers in the mozerella and pepper salad were similarly «meh». But the mozerella was really good, and that foreshadowed the pizza.
We got the classic «margerite». The crust was thin, light, and wonderfully friable in the mouth. The sauce was sweet (in a basilly way, not a ketchuppy way) and rich, and spread evenly. The cheese was salty, rich, and spread evenly. There was no grease to be found. It was the best brick-​oven pizza I’ve ever had. Babe liked it too.

Very good pizza pies; plentiful, reasonable salads. Inside is very small. I’ve only ever dined in the «garden» next door which is a concrete slab — as many gardens are. I actually don’t count this against anyone. I like concrete. This garden is a little odd, though. It’s set back from the street but, as it is not behind but rather adjacent to the pizzeria, it is completely in the open. Hmm. What’s my gripe? A little breeze sometimes? But that can be nice, too, I suppose.

One of the best pizza places in Brooklyn (I can’t believe some joker below said they’d choose Forninos over Brick Oven! I went to Forninos and couldn’t believe that they had rated as «Best Pizza» or whatever, because it was among the worst pizzas I have ever had. Just had to say that).
I’ve been vegan for 17 years and just about a month ago, decided to try cheese pizza again because here I’ve lived in New York my entire life, grew up on pizza and let’s face it, there is just something slightly missing when you go the cheeseless route.
Not that the cheeseless pizzas at Brick Oven EVER failed to impress (get it with truffle oil drizzled on top!).
I decided to break my vacation from cheese at Brick Oven with a Lizzie B pizza and holy fuck did it live up to my expectation!!! Perfectly saucy, just the right amount of cheese (not too much), crispy crust.
I’ve gone back once to get the wild mushroom pie and again, it, like the Lizzie B, to die for :)
What can I say? I love this place to DEATH!!!

I took a year off of my life eating the Tartufo Bianco (a?) — truffle oil, mushrooms, cheese… but you know what? It was worth it. Every. damn. bite.

Not a place to grab a slice, but its darn good pizza. They only make the pizza in individual sizes but two people can split one with an appetizer and get really full.
I’m poor but I’m gonna be saving up to go back here as often as possible.

I almost hesitate to review this place to keep it a secret — but it looks like a bajillion others have already beat me to it. It certainly still feels like a Brooklyn secret when you go there… off the beaten Williamsburg path, not too incredibly crowded on a Friday night…
The place was steamy, but the food was super delicious. We got the wild mushroom pizza (with a hint of thyme — so delicious), as well as the chicken and mushroom orecchiette with a lovely, not too heavy cream sauce. The crust was perfect, not too thin, not too thick.
Our only complaint was that our server was a little too innatentive. She didn’t offer us fresh pepper or hot pepper for our dishes… which we would’t have thought of, except that the people around us (with a different server) did get some. would have been nice.

Best Pizza in Brooklyn
Just how I like it, thin crust, great toppings combination. I felt like I was back in Italy. Next time I’m in town, I’m definately visiting here again.
Try the Brooklyn Caviar, my party and I finished that in 3 minutes.
Trust the server for recommendations. Every single pizza that she recommended was on point. Oh and BRING CASH!

This place would have gotten 5 stars if my salad was fresh and not from a bag. Always a buzz kill when you see the kitchen open up a salad bag from Costco and pour it on your dish.
Outside of that the Brooklyn Cavier (eggplant and some other veggies in a balsamic reduction-​ish sauce) and the pizza was excellent! I would rank this higher than Johns in the Village or any other sit down pizza parlor in the city.
We will be going back for sure (just not ordering a salad).

I don’t know how this place has all «5-​star» reviews. I’m not here to say that I barfed after eating the pizza because it was so gross or anything but I am here to say that there’s no way I can even take this place seriously with Fornino a hop, skip and a jump away. I’ll give it this, thumbs up to the ambiance, location, and general vibe of the joint. They have that going for them. Also, that free bread was the shizz. But I was less than impressed with the pizza. The sauce was pretty bland and the crust was not how I like it. I did love the mesclun salad with seasonal dressing… that was pretty tasty. But I am not sure I’ll go back here on the basis of pizza alone. I hate to be a hater, I’m just suprised. Maybe I went on a bad night?

This is one of my favorite places to eat. The brick oven pizza is true southern Italian thin crust. It’s well priced, you can eat outside, and they just redesigned the interior to be a much more pleasant and quaint dining experience. Thank god!
The big thing that sucks is that the phone is disconnected and no new number posted. So you can’t order a pizza to go. :(

This is by far the best thin crust pizza in New York City. I love the ambiance, it is a rustic family owned pizza café with prompt and attentive service. The owner usually greets you when you walk in and the pizza is phenomenal. Make sure you bring CASH! They do not accept cards. However, there is a convenience store a couple doors down with an ATM machine.
LOVED IT!

All of the food here is absolutely fantastic… the pizza, the pasta, the salad. All of it– mmmmmmm!!!
The owner of this fine establishment was born and raised in Williamsburg and shared a great story about this space. Apparently the brick oven has been there for decades and the owner of the building would only rent the space to someone who would use the brick oven commercially. Therefore it was vacant for ages (to the frustration of many potential business owners) until it opened as the Gallery.
It’s nice to know that Williamsburg’s Little Italy stays true to its old school values: great pizza and great community.

I LOVE THIS PLACE.
They have no phone, well they do but they have unplugged it from the wall, as the owner says «who wants to hear the phone ringing all the time.» Totally.
So the pizzas here are so delicious and there is such a range in choices. The salads are pretty killer as well… and they are GIANT.
I love it. I am going to go eat there… right…now.

This place is simply delicious!
Brick Oven Gallery has got that family style cooking feel. The night we visited the owner was clearing tables, seating customers, taking orders, and cooking the food – obviously over worked but the quality certainly did not suffer.
It’s a simple little place but with sophisticated tastes (did I seriously just write that?)
Anyway, if you like Brooklyn style pizza, and I don’t mean Domino’s idea of it, you’ll find Brick Oven Gallery to be more than adequate to burst your already disgusting beer gut.

I love this place because you can tell it’s family run and the owner cares about his food. We went on a night where the cook was not only making pizzas, but also busing, and taking orders. I love that.
The food is great and the pizza rivals what you’ll find up the street at Fornino or Aqua Santa. It’s cozy and a real neighborhood gem.
I do wish their wine list was a little more descriptive than «pino noir» and «merlot.»