In most areas of life, being a snob is generally not considered to be a good thing. But snobbery is perfectly acceptable, encouraged even, when it comes to pizza.
We no longer tolerate chain pizza with cardboard crusts, and a wave of pizzerias has risen to meet our demand.
Pizza Snob, located in the heart of the TCU campus, is part of that wave.
This little pizzeria with the cheeky name carves out a unique niche in the pizza world: super-fast, yet also gourmet. It produces pizzas baked extra quick, yet made more thoughtfully, with better ingredients than a fast-food pizza.
You work your way through an ordering line in a manner similar to Chipotle, specifying toppings and cheese, then paying the cashier ($7.99). You’re given a number, and you make your way to one of the large, rough-hewn wooden tables; when your pizza’s ready, your number flashes on a bingo-like wall, and you pick it up.
The restaurant uses a unique oven that rotates the pizza around the heat source, guaranteeing a uniformly baked pie. Made by a company called Cuppone, the oven has a stone “floor” — similar to Neapolitan-style pizza ovens — that holds heat and bakes the pizza in 2 minutes.
Pizzas are “personal-size,” about 10-12 inches across. You pick a sauce from a choice of tomato, honey barbecue or buttermilk Alfredo, and cheese such as mozzarella or Cheddar. Toppings are lined up in silver bowls and range from basics like pepperoni, sausage, mushroom or bell pepper to less-common options such as pulled pork, chicken, bacon or goat cheese.
One odd quirk is the restaurant’s policy on toppings: They’re limited to four. It’s written on the wall and recited by the young staff, who explain rather earnestly that too many toppings will overwhelm the flavor.
That said, the toppings were definitely above average. Potato was a wonderful novelty topping we were happy to see, even if the soft cubes were mildly grainy. Olives consisted of a chopped mix instead of the usual canned black. Beer-glazed onions were sweet, soft and mellow. The best topping was the candied jalapeños, a marvelous combination of sweet and heat.
The crust was thin, lightly browned, chewy and oddly buttery, like a regular pie crust. It wasn’t unlikable, just unexpected. The bottom wasn’t as soft as a true Neapolitan-style pizza, but it was softer and more pliable than the thick, crisp crust you find at chains.
There wasn’t much else on the menu other than beer, chocolate chip cookies and a couple of salads ($5.99), including one with kale tossed in orange-sesame oil dressing and topped with dried cranberries. Kale has become the top foodie pick; it’s an appropriate green for a place named Snob.