Courtesy of Max Zandstein

Pagach is a secret. Not many people outside towns originally inhabited by Polish immigrants know about it.

I discovered the American-Polish hybrid in a small Pennsylvania town that has been downtrodden since its coal mining industry disappeared. In its grungy unimpressive pizza shops, pagach is a delicacy hidden amongst below-average pizza and tired Polish souls.

In layman’s terms, pagach is pierogi pizza. In foodie terms, pagach is ingenious. Essentially pagach comprises a potato concoction with just the right hint of onion, garlic, and pepper atop a perfectly thick pizza dough covered in melted cheese. It’s heaven for carb-lovers.

Although one kind of pagach can satisfy me for the rest of my life, there are some variations of the potato delicacy. Pepper, it seems, is the fluctuating ingredient among pagash-makers. Some places boast pagach so heavily peppered that each slice looks ashy, while more pepper-conservative locations keep the spice to a minimum.

There also exists a structurally different version that strays from the cheesy, triangle looks-just-like-pizza form. This alternative is square, has both a bottom and a top crust, and is considerably less cheesy. It’s closer in resemblance to a sandwich-like sicilian slice.

The inevitable question arises: which is better? Honestly, it all depends on the pepper, which is the tie-breaking factor between the two equally delicious creations. Undoubtedly each has its own strong points: the triangle version dominates in the cheese department, but the square’s additional doughy layer brings a completeness to each slice.

Pagach may not be classy nor sophisticated, but it packs an irresistible and complexly layered flavor. Furthermore, the potato-worshipping indulgence manages to morph three cuisines into one – Italian, credited with the original pizza; American, with it’s embarrassing interpretation of the aforementioned; and Polish, with its obvious pierogi inspiration. If pagach can traverse international cuisines, then maybe it can cross a state border and bring its tasty self to New Jersey.