>>17874818
In 2006, a State Supreme Court ruling upheld a rabbinical court decision blocking one Hasidic-owned bus company from copying another’s route schedule from New York to Washington. And in 1993, a group of kosher restaurants in Teaneck, N.J., asked a rabbinical court to stop a nearby restaurant from expanding and stealing its customers.
The pizza ruling was issued in mere days, in Hebrew, with certain citations of the Torah and the Talmud in ancient Aramaic.
The rabbis sided largely with Mr. Branover, finding that Calabria was so close both geographically and in food style that it jeopardized Basil’s livelihood. Calabria was told to switch to offering “regular pizza,” which the court defined as “New York-style pizza,” though it did not provide any further guidance.
Since the ruling, however, the case has fallen into a murky divide between ancient Talmudic law and the conventions of a classic New York slice.
To Mr. Branover, the ruling means Calabria must stick to basic pizza parlor rules: round pies, sliced into wedges.
Mr. Harel called the ruling unfair and mystifying. He said it would hinder his pursuit of the top kosher certification, critical to attracting customers.
To follow the court’s New York-style pizza edict, Mr. Harel said, he searched online for the best dough recipe that fit the bill. He quickly revised Calabria’s website to call its pizza “New York-style.”
But he continued to sell rectangular slices.
Mr. Branover accused Calabria of making nominal changes in a cynical attempt to flout the ruling. He is prepared, he said, to file a civil suit, using the rabbis’ ruling as leverage.
Mr. Harel said Calabria was a family business that cost “in the high six figures” to open and had required a sizable loan. Mr. Branover said that of his annual gross sales of roughly $3 million, pizza sales accounted for roughly $50,000 a month, but that pizza was his biggest attraction for customers.
In an interview, the rabbis who heard the pizza case said they had considered Calabria’s location, as well as Mr. Branover’s substantial investment in his restaurant and the reputation it had won.
While Jewish law does not oppose competition as a rule, “there were exceptional circumstances unique to this case, including the similarities in appearance and concept” in pizza offerings, said Rabbi Reuven Alt, the senior member of the Borough Park panel.
Like many rabbinical courts, the Borough Park panel is set up like a simple civil courtroom, akin to a traffic court in that it has no gallery, bailiffs or court reporter.
Cases have plaintiffs and defendants, and proceed in Hebrew, with witnesses, evidence presentations, questions from the rabbis and cross-examinations.
In the pizza case, the rabbis took the unusual step of visiting the restaurants, using an Uber car to drive them there.
“These are not people who hang around restaurants, but they got into the nuances of the different ovens and atmosphere,” Mr. Branover said. “They really did their homework.”
Mr. Harel said that Jewish law regarding competition applied only to merchants in the same profession. This case is different, he said, because Mr. Branover owns a profitable energy management company, Satec.
“It’s not his business; it’s his hobby,” said Mr. Harel, 28. He called Mr. Branover a wealthy man “who got his ego hurt, and I’m a young man doing the only thing I know how to do.”
Mr. Branover said, “It doesn’t matter how much money I have; the law applies to the business, not the businessman.”
Calabria, Mr. Harel said, has become a hit with customers because of things no one could contest in any court.
“The place is clean, and service is superb, and the ingredients are the freshest,” he said. “Nobody has a patent on that.”