I’m alive! Been MIA for a bit as I had surgery on my deviated septum. It was not fun. Neither was 2 weeks of not being able to taste. But I’m back and making up for lost pie. Get it? Rhymes with time? Why I haven’t been recognized as the comedic savant I am I just don’t know.
So the lady and I decided to have a few drinks on our walk to Honest Eds. We needed some random crap and what better place to procure random crap than Honest Eds? No but seriously, is that place not the best store on earth? I had past by a place near there called Hey Lucy and saw they did wood fired pies. Beyond that I had never heard anyone speak about them so I was curious. So we stopped in for all around Margheritas. Both the pie and the drink. We had two vastly different opinions but for me personally, this pie couldn’t have been farther from my “thing”.
The space is kinda funky with the oven visible in the back. It was apparently flown in from Italy. Not sure why they felt the need for a traditional Italian oven which likely cost them an arm and a leg. I’ll get to why in a minute. The menu says it is “authentic” wood fired pizza. In my pizza adventures I’ve come to hate the word “authentic”. It’s a buzz word that’s thrown around a lot but not really rooted in anything. The definition of “authentic” can be stretched and pulled like dough to work in favour of anyone, doing anything, regardless of if it actually is “authentic”. Here is my qualm. The pizza here is paper thin. I’m talking as thick as a tortilla from middle to end crust. MAYBE 2 tortillas but that’s pushing it. This was likely the thinnest pizza I’ve ever eaten. Now, while that’s not my thing it’s not necessarily a bad thing. My problem lies in that, if you claim your oven comes from Italy and you say the pizza is “authentic” what is you definition of “authentic” pizza? Because I promise you tortilla thin pizza is not “authentic”. Is it just the act of putting dough into a wood fired oven that’s “authentic”? I suppose you could get away with classifying that as “authentic” as people have being doing it for thousands of years but it’s a stretch. I’m getting into semantics now and am likely being overly critical. I just have a serious hate on for the word “authentic”. Obviously.
Again, the pie was super thin. Super, SUPER thin. This isn’t my thing. At all. But it wasn’t bad. In fact the lady quite liked it and anyone into super thin crust pizza may really like this. That being said I feel the “authentic wood fired oven” is used more for its aesthetic rather than real function. The reason a wood fired oven is ideal for pizza is that you’re able to transfer a ton of heat to the dough really quickly. That super high heat evaporates the moisture in the dough. As the moist air tries to escape it inflates the gluten structure inside the dough. While it’s inflating the sugars in the dough start to caramelize and it begins to set. The more heat you can transfer into the dough (without it burning) before it sets the fluffier your crust will be. My point being: whats the benefit in having that extreme heat if your dough doesn’t rise at all? And by not at all I mean absolutely does not rise at all. In fact it almost works against the pies as I’m sure the cooking time is near instant and the high heat just starts to burn the edges before the pie is ready to come out. The undercarriage had a bit of stray flower still sticking to it and was quite crackery. Obviously I have problems with the crust here but keep in mind that’s my personal opinion. Carrie is cool with super thin crust and she quite enjoyed it. To each their own.
The sauce which the menu says is made in house is cooked down, very thick and incredibly sweet. If I didn’t read it was made in house I would have assumed it came from a can. I’ll give them the benefit of the doubt. It took me getting halfway through our pie to realize the sauce was probably calculatedly thick. If you were to have even semi runny sauce on a pie that thin it would have been a soupy mess. And not soupy in a pleasant Neapolitan way. Outside of that it was just a little too sweet for me. Though the cheese looked great on the pie it was a low moisture mozzarella. The kind of dollop of cheese where when you bite into one the whole thing slides off unless you hold it in place with your fingers. Not gooey or stretchy, just... there. Basil was julienned and put in the oven to cook with the pie. Could have used a bit more. I find basil really helps freshen up a margherita, especially one I’m not particularly feeling, but what can you do.
To recap; not my thing. Not even close to my thing. That being said I feel like a huge dick hating this place so hard. It has to be said that if you’re into a super, super thin crust pizza, you may very well like this place. I believe Carries words to me were “Don’t hate on this place too hard in your review. I actually kinda like it.” So keep that in mind.
*Carries Notes*
So the lady and I decided to have a few drinks on our walk to Honest Eds. We needed some random crap and what better place to procure random crap than Honest Eds? No but seriously, is that place not the best store on earth? I had past by a place near there called Hey Lucy and saw they did wood fired pies. Beyond that I had never heard anyone speak about them so I was curious. So we stopped in for all around Margheritas. Both the pie and the drink. We had two vastly different opinions but for me personally, this pie couldn’t have been farther from my “thing”.
The space is kinda funky with the oven visible in the back. It was apparently flown in from Italy. Not sure why they felt the need for a traditional Italian oven which likely cost them an arm and a leg. I’ll get to why in a minute. The menu says it is “authentic” wood fired pizza. In my pizza adventures I’ve come to hate the word “authentic”. It’s a buzz word that’s thrown around a lot but not really rooted in anything. The definition of “authentic” can be stretched and pulled like dough to work in favour of anyone, doing anything, regardless of if it actually is “authentic”. Here is my qualm. The pizza here is paper thin. I’m talking as thick as a tortilla from middle to end crust. MAYBE 2 tortillas but that’s pushing it. This was likely the thinnest pizza I’ve ever eaten. Now, while that’s not my thing it’s not necessarily a bad thing. My problem lies in that, if you claim your oven comes from Italy and you say the pizza is “authentic” what is you definition of “authentic” pizza? Because I promise you tortilla thin pizza is not “authentic”. Is it just the act of putting dough into a wood fired oven that’s “authentic”? I suppose you could get away with classifying that as “authentic” as people have being doing it for thousands of years but it’s a stretch. I’m getting into semantics now and am likely being overly critical. I just have a serious hate on for the word “authentic”. Obviously.
The sauce which the menu says is made in house is cooked down, very thick and incredibly sweet. If I didn’t read it was made in house I would have assumed it came from a can. I’ll give them the benefit of the doubt. It took me getting halfway through our pie to realize the sauce was probably calculatedly thick. If you were to have even semi runny sauce on a pie that thin it would have been a soupy mess. And not soupy in a pleasant Neapolitan way. Outside of that it was just a little too sweet for me. Though the cheese looked great on the pie it was a low moisture mozzarella. The kind of dollop of cheese where when you bite into one the whole thing slides off unless you hold it in place with your fingers. Not gooey or stretchy, just... there. Basil was julienned and put in the oven to cook with the pie. Could have used a bit more. I find basil really helps freshen up a margherita, especially one I’m not particularly feeling, but what can you do.
To recap; not my thing. Not even close to my thing. That being said I feel like a huge dick hating this place so hard. It has to be said that if you’re into a super, super thin crust pizza, you may very well like this place. I believe Carries words to me were “Don’t hate on this place too hard in your review. I actually kinda like it.” So keep that in mind.
*Carries Notes*
Erik wasn't into this pizza but I feel like with a few tweaks this could be a really great little pizza - an awesome crunchy snack after treasure-hunting in Honest Eds. Texturally I enjoyed the sauce, but as Erik mentioned, it was too sweet for my taste. A little more balance (salt) in that department would go a LONG way in my opinion. And more basillll! I'm one of those weirdos that eats herbs right out of the garden, just on their own, so you could pretty much cover a pie in basil and I would be happy as a clam. If I owned a pizza place, I'd serve pies with a small side-bowl of fresh basil leaves so people (weridos like me) could add as much as they wanted. Just sayin'. On another note...Herb & Ricotta pie...I think I need to make that happen.
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