‘Earth-shaking event for New York pizza’ looms as flour ban hits 80% of crusts citywide

The news of a looming ban on potassium bromate, a suspected carcinogen used in bread-making, has sent shockwaves through New York’s pizzeria scene. As the city’s most iconic slice shops struggle to come to terms with the potential loss of their long-established baking practices, it’s clear that this earth-shaking event will have far-reaching implications for the city’s culinary identity.

For decades, bromated flour has been a staple in many New York pizzerias, particularly those that rely on General Mills’ All Trumps flour. This ingredient has contributed to the characteristic chewiness and crunch of the city’s beloved slices. However, studies have shown that potassium bromate can cause cancer in laboratory animals, even at “perfectly reasonable” doses.

According to Erik Millstone, a professor of science policy, the additive’s absence from many countries’ food supplies suggests its role in making baked goods more palatable to consumers may be overstated. As a result, pizzerias are now forced to reevaluate their reliance on bromated flour and consider alternative methods for achieving the perfect crust.

The reaction from pizzerias across the city is telling. Some are experimenting with yeast concentrations and rise times to achieve a similar texture without bromated flour, while others are holding out for a last-minute reprieve from Governor Kathy Hochul’s signature. The prospect of a one-year grace period followed by additional time to use up existing stockpiles will give pizzerias some breathing room, but the ultimate impact on the city’s culinary landscape remains uncertain.

Scott Wiener, a pizza historian, notes that this shift away from bromated flour will require more than just a tweak in ingredients. It will demand a fundamental rethinking of baking practices and a willingness to adapt to new methods that prioritize quality over convenience. “The move towards well-fermented doughs will lead to lighter pizzas with fewer stomachaches,” Wiener says, “but it will also require more time and effort.”

Mario Mangilia, owner of DoughBoyz in Florida, captures the essence of this challenge: “My grandfather would haunt me” if he ever changed his dough recipe. The city’s iconic slices are not just a product of chemistry, but also of tradition and heritage. As New York’s pizzerias navigate this transition, they must balance their commitment to quality with their loyalty to established methods.

In the end, this earth-shaking event will be nothing short of a revolution in the way New York pizzerias approach bread-making. It’s time to trade in chemical shortcuts for a more authentic, artisanal approach that prioritizes flavor over convenience. As the city’s pizzerias rise to meet this challenge, they will emerge stronger and more resilient – just like their doughs.

The stakes are high, but so is the reward. Will New York’s pizza identity crisis be an opportunity for innovation and improvement, or a loss of its iconic status? Only time will tell, but one thing is certain: the city’s pizzerias will never be the same again.