Ricci Rondinelli is not your typical pizza shop owner. With his unmistakable New York accent and unapologetic candor, he’s as bold as the flavors he serves. Some might find his straight-shooting demeanor a bit much, but that’s exactly why I’m writing this article. I appreciate people who say what they mean without making me decipher hidden intentions.
Raised in the Bronx and steeped in Italian heritage, Ricci originally came to Utah intending to retire. But after failing to find an authentic slice of pizza in town, he did what any self-respecting New Yorker would do: he took matters into his own hands. So much for retirement. He now spends his days running Villaggio Pizzeria, pulling 12-hour shifts and crafting pies that would make his Nonna proud.
Today, we find him in the kitchen, stirring a pot of marinara sauce and rolling meatballs inspired by his grandmother’s recipes. It’s no surprise that many of his dishes bear the name Nonna, a tribute to the woman whose cooking shaped his love for food.
The pizzeria itself is no-frills, no gimmicks, and no alcohol — just a straightforward, functional space where the focus is entirely on the food. There’s seating available, but most customers seem to opt for takeout. Behind the counter, employees work in a frenzy — tossing dough, slicing fresh mozzarella, and sliding bubbling-hot pies out of the oven.
Ricci takes authenticity seriously. He imports his flour and other key ingredients straight from New York, ensuring that every slice is as close to the real deal as possible. This commitment to quality has set an almost unattainable standard for other pizzerias in the area, raising the bar for what true New York-style pizza should be. His walls are adorned with accolades, proof that his relentless pursuit of perfection hasn’t gone unnoticed.
Deciding what to order here is no easy feat. This isn’t your standard Salt Lake pizza joint with predictable toppings and a cookie-cutter menu. Villaggio serves up thin, crisp-crusted pies with ingredients that demand attention, including Kalamata olives, anchovies, and eggplant. We’ve tried them all, and now, as the line behind us grows, we argue over what to order.
Eventually, we settled on the “Luca Brasi” Uncle Vinnie Style — a punchy combination of Ricci’s signature pizza sauce, garlic, anchovies, crushed red pepper, mozzarella, pecorino, and fresh basil. But stopping there would be a rookie mistake, so we also add an order of focaccia, baked golden with rosemary, thyme, extra virgin olive oil, sun-dried tomatoes, garlic, and mozzarella.
As we wait, I catch sight of a truly spectacular pizza making its way to a nearby table. Unable to resist, I strike up a conversation with its owner, Eunju, a Salt Lake City transplant from South Korea. This is her third time at Villaggio, and, as she tells me, the rest of the city’s pizza shops have officially lost her business. When I ask what her go-to order is, she doesn’t hesitate: “Nonna’s Eggplant Parm Pie.”
Beyond the pizzas, Villaggio also serves Nonna’s homemade subs and calzones, offering yet another nod to Ricci’s roots. But at the heart of it all is a man who simply wanted a great slice and ended up bringing a taste of the Bronx to the Wasatch.
Feature Image: Ricci Rondinelli, owner of Villaggio Pizzeria. Photo by Richard Markosian.
