Previously, I mentioned this place and how much I was looking forward to its grand opening.
Despite both my lede and the fact that this sign is shaped like a gravestone, Golden Pizza is not at all scary — it’s just that the camera in my phone doesn’t take very good pictures at night (or at all) and no amount of digital editing will ever fix this defect, which is as much the fault of the photographer as it is of the camera itself.
In fact, by way of proof, I can show you the interior of the restaurant (which is quite charming). See?
Full disclosure: this place stands less than 100 yards from our house; they could slather roadkill in barbecue sauce and I’d still eat it with gusto and gratitude. Fortunately, they don’t. They serve pizza. Regular, no-frills pizza. Like this:
And by saying this I mean absolutely no disrespect because I am such a fan of regular, no-frills pizza.
Life is busy and complicated, often needlessly so. And sometimes, when you’ve been working late and you’re tired and your blood sugar is low and you’re maybe considering backhanding everyone in your immediate family for being so f*cking irritating, you don’t want to have to decipher your dinner. Sometimes you’re just in no mood to deal with a food called “Topolino” or “Ghiottone,” which — in my experience — involves spending valuable time and energy picking off, eating around, or just closing one’s eyes and pinching one’s nose while swallowing odd, unidentifiable lumps of meat and/or vegetable matter.
So I’ll reiterate: there’s nothing wrong with a basic pizza. In fact, I think it’s a good place to start — if a restaurant can’t manage plain cheese or pepperoni, then they’re unlikely to do any better if they start piling on artichoke hearts or goat cheese or teriyaki chicken strips or green-eggs-and-ham.
(It’s the same principle with ice cream, actually: order vanilla first and go from there. Always establish a baseline.)
So there’s that.
However, I would like to add that this may be the first time in my life that I’ve eaten a slice of pizza and actually noticed the taste of the sauce. Of the three-legged pizza stool that is crust, cheese, and sauce, it tends to be the element that’s easiest to fudge (because, really, when you’re battling with bread and dairy for tastebud real estate and stomach share, you are going to lose…unless maybe you’re made of meat). So the fact that this sauce was tasty when it didn’t have to be impressed me. And that was nice.
In fact, the whole place is nice. I’d go there again. Honestly, I’d go there all the time if I didn’t think a steady diet of mozzarella sticks and Pepsi would kill me. And once they get the grocery store part up their operation up and running (ah, the manifold joys of permits), I imagine I’ll be a frequent customer.