2 sweet-as-pie pizzerias, and 1 unfortunate pizza pan

You want pizza? We got pizza. And I'm not talking about the Pagliacci proliferation or that dude from Domino's who regularly shows up at my door waving that other red, white and blue flag. (Wrong house! Take it up the street!) I'm talking about the increase of pizzerias proud to promote a new way of making an old favorite — using house-cured meats, homemade mozzarella and fancy-pants pizza ovens.

Serious Pie

316 Virginia St., Seattle 206-838-7388 www.tomdouglas.com

Hours: 11 a.m.-11 p.m. Mondays-Saturdays, 4-10 p.m. Sundays.

Etc.: Beer and wine/takeout available.

"Want another piece?" my friend asked, nodding in the fragrant direction of her foraged mushroom pizza ($15). As if I could resist one more slice of that gleaming, smoky crust, dressed for drama with chanterelles, black trumpet mushrooms and an intoxicating whiff of truffle-scented cheese.

"Here, you really have to have another one of mine!" I insisted, pushing my groovy grooved pizza-board her way while lying through my char-stained teeth. She reached for another hunk of that oblong crust, with spicy house-cured coppa and a beautifully baked egg whose yolk ran golden through barely wilted arugula ($14). Dashed went my hopes for leftovers, which would have made one bodacious breakfast.

Next time I throw myself a pizza party, I'm going to Serious Pie. Alone. Because here I might be sharing a communal table, but I won't have to share my pizza. Nor my shaved celery salad ($6/$9), which tastes like a Caesar writ anew with its slivers of crisp celery and those obscenely delicious white Spanish anchovies.

Alone I can devote my attention to what's on my plate (tiny cannoli that taste like ricotta-stuffed rugalach), in my glass (a brilliantly bitter IPA) and in plain view (flour-smeared bakers doing their voodoo at the Dahlia bakeshop, visible through a glass wall).

Leave it to Tom Douglas and his wife, Jackie Cross, to turn a funky little space behind their Dahlia Lounge into a rustic rendition of a glam-pizza goldmine — the boulder-faced maw of a wood-fueled oven.

Here you'll pay big(ger) bucks for pizza made with precious ingredients, like the pie with house-cured pancetta, Penn Cove clams and fresh lemon-thyme adding an herbal note to the clams' natural " 'sea'soning" ($15). And for starters like prosciutto, sliced-to-order to maintain its melting texture, its salty-sweet flavor playing off slivers of sweet-tart apple ($12). Serious pleasures, all.

Pizzeria Fondi

KentStation, 504 Ramsay Way, Suite 107, Kent 253-850-3111 www.fondi.com

Hours: 11:30 a.m.-10 p.m. Mondays-Thursdays, 11:30 a.m.-11 p.m. Fridays-Saturdays, 11:30 a.m.-9 p.m. Sundays.

Etc.: Beer and wine; takeout available.

We'd already ordered one too many salads when I realized the woman in the open kitchen, up to her elbows in "dough," was not twisting off pizza crusts from the vat at her side: She was hand-shaping mozzarella fresca. Right here at the mall.

Before I could get control of my mozzarella-lovin' mouth, I hailed our server and ordered a caprese salad. Which, as it turns out, hosts plugs of chewy mozzarella — not good. It tasted far better when sliced, layered and melted over a six-cheese pizza ($9.95) — a creamy cloud of milky goodness.

Whatever. We'd already gorged on a salad showered with Gorgonzola and candied walnuts ($3.75/$6.50/$10.50), and another rich with roasted chicken, salami, artichokes and California olives (I'd complain about the "California" part, but for $3.95 for a shareable "small," that'd be nitpicking).

Fondi is a fresh new concept for Seattle-based Restaurants Unlimited Inc., known locally for upscaleries like Palisade and nationally for its Palomino chain. A year ago, RUI got on the pizza train, rolling into Kent Station and offering a fast-casual, cafeteria-style set up — a sleek, pseudo-Italiano dining room with a bar at the far end and a brick oven center stage. Family friendly and value driven, it's no surprise that expansion is already under way with a planned spring opening for Fondi No. 2 — near U-Village.

Tableside ordering is an option, though you're urged to decide at the door, take a number and sit down to wait for your Fondi bellini (sparkling prosecco with fruit sorbet, $5.50), a pint of house lager or Italian wines offered by the glass or bottle. Oh, and that main event: Neapolitan-style pizzas.

Their crisp crusts, glazed with an oily, herb-based "verde sauce" and baked till lightly charred in a gas-fueled oven, will go over big with folks who find the thin moist centers of authentic Neapolitan pies a soggy turn-off. Ditto for Fondi's heavier-than-a-Neapolitan's hand with the toppings.

Among the dozen pizzas ($8.95-$11.95) are simple kid-friendly classics like "Incredible pepperoni" (my kid called it "real good" and scarfed more than his fair share); several kitchen-sink-styled versions topped with rosemary-scented mushrooms; and my choice, Il Greco, hoisting a thin layer of cheese and a meld of salami, feta, pepperoncini, roasted peppers and those California olives.

Bambino's East Coast Pizzeria

401 Cedar St., Seattle 206-269-2222 www.getbambinos.com

Hours: 11 a.m.-11 p.m. daily.

Etc.: No alcohol; takeout and delivery available.

Visits to Bambino's, a newcomer just off Denny Way near Seattle Center, had this critic wondering: Who's minding the store?

A handsome store it is, with exposed brick, soaring ceilings and a handful of tables set in an "L" around the big brick oven. But looks don't buy me love. Sophomoric service and inconsistency in the kitchen have to be addressed, fast.

One visit found dull pizza crust in need of salt. Worse, the crust had seized and turned cardboardlike shortly after it was presented, prettily poised on a wooden peel atop a spiral pedestal. On a takeout trip, I was impressed by a thin charred crust that crisped beautifully when reheated. (Perhaps that, and service goofs, explain why more people seem to be taking Bambino's up on its delivery option.)

Pizzas come in two sizes: 12-inch ($7.50-$12.50) or 15-inch ($11-$18). And if you don't like truffle oil — among the toppings on two of the house specialties — feel free to custom-build your own pie. Do try the meaty, New Yawk-talkin' "Bambino's" with excellent pepperoni, sausage, meatballs and bacon. And if canned pineapple gives you a thrill, have the "Tropicale" — topped not with Canadian bacon, but with a far more elegant ham.

With no liquor license (yet), you'll have to make do with a soft drink. Meanwhile, you can snack on a complimentary nosh of crusty flatbread served with olives in a balsamic dip. Its texture resembles the terrific housemade bread used for sandwiches like the Siciliano ($5.95) — basically a goat cheese salad in an Italian-accented pita.

Though it's food enough for four, skip the tricolore salad with its clunky skin-on cukes and flavorless tomatoes ($5.95). Instead, have the bargain-priced "affetati misti" ($6.95), a slice of cantaloupe served with plenty of coppa, salami and prosciutto — though the mixed greens served with it need a splash of dressing.

Share your news or restaurant tips with Nancy Leson: 206-464-8838 or nleson@seattletimes.com. More reviews at seattletimes.com/restaurants.