In April 2023, Myer's Bagels became Myer's Wood Fired when it moved from Burlington's Pine Street to its new Shelburne Road location, just over the South Burlington border. The name change foreshadowed co-owners Chris Conn and Adam Jones' plan to expand beyond bagels and more regularly serve the pizza they had offered weekly during summers off and on since 2013.
It took a year, but on May 31, Myer's officially launched Friday pizza nights, adding a worthy new option to the area's pizza panoply. Lightly tangy, chewy, blistered crusts provide a satisfying base for toppings that range from classic pepperoni ($20) to the swirls of housemade red sauce, spicy Calabrian vodka sauce, fresh mozzarella and special touch of Myer's signature Montréal spice that grace the Tie Dye Pie ($22).
The bakery's Montréal spice takes that city's classic meat seasoning blend of garlic, black pepper, cayenne, dill and salt and adds seven Italian herbs. It has a long history at Myer's, and so does pizza, said Jones, 51.
He and Conn, 58, started working there together in 2012 and bought the business from founding owner Lloyd Squires in 2020. Squires had opened the Montréal-style bagel shop in 1996. He named it after his teacher and mentor, Myer Lewkowicz, founder of St-Viateur Bagel — one of two beloved bagel bakeries in Squires' native Montréal.
According to Jones, Squires made pizzas out of bagel dough in the wee morning hours, aka the late-night hours for college kids who knew he was up and baking at 4 a.m.
Tasty as those probably were after hours of partying, Myer's bagel dough, which contains no salt or fat, does not make for ideal pizza. The current dough is based on a recipe developed by two Myer's bakers, Dan Johnson and Ian Price, who took it on as a "pet project" back when Myer's started summer pizza nights, Jones said. This spring, Conn and Jones contracted with chef Zach Toensing, formerly of Deep City, to create a pizza process for them.
The yeasted dough is made with a blend of high-gluten King Arthur Baking flour and double-zero Italian-style flour, plus extra virgin olive oil and salt. The light tang develops during a 50-hour ferment, Jones explained.
The tomato sauce relies on a brand of crushed tomatoes that Johnson and Price landed on after trying at least a dozen kinds. It also has a touch of Montréal spice.
"That's our Emeril 'Bam!'" Jones said.
My tastes lean to white pies. I can recommend the mushroom pizza ($22) with the kitchen's signature blend of mozzarella and aged provolone cheese, plus some fresh ricotta, under chewy, savory roasted mushrooms seasoned well with garlic and basil. Also very good was the Figgy Piggy special ($24), spread with housemade fig preserves, strewn with French brie, then topped with prosciutto, arugula and a generous lacing of balsamic glaze.
Late on a recent Friday afternoon, Conn stoked the fire with kiln-dried hardwood and marshaled a series of pizzas in and out of the oven. The pair said they will add more pizza nights when staffing allows.
To the left of the wood-fired oven, a smaller brick cubby was filled with equipment and large bags of what Conn called "cowboy charcoal." It was a grill, not yet in use.
"That's his Christmas present," Jones quipped, nodding toward his business partner.
Conn plans one day to fire up the unique charcoal-grilled pizzas that he learned to make at the pioneering Al Forno in Providence, R.I., in the late 1980s, after earning his culinary degree from nearby Johnson & Wales University.
Yet another addition to the Burlington area's pizzapalooza that I can get behind.