I love to eat, perhaps the reason I am a reformed fat girl. When I mentioned my trip to Chicago, Liz suggested that I drop my chub club membership and head to Gino’s East and shove my face. Apparently this pizza has been ranked by People magazine as one of the best pizzas and who am I to deny myself some of the best pizza around.
The Gino’s I linked to was less than ten minutes walk from my hotel. I packed up my purse and marched myself right over there, asked for a table for one (hi, loser) and sat my ass down. My sweet server came over, took my order and told me it would be about 35 minutes for the pizza. Okay, give me a salad to tide me over.
My pizza arrived and it looked like this. Mmm.
What? It came missing a third? No but by the time I built up the nerve to be the loser sitting at the table by herself, taking a picture of her pizza sans flash, I had eaten some.
Now for my review of my first authentic Chicago style pizza. Here’s my slice. There may have been a few remnants of my first peice. I am anti chunky tomatoes, so that is mainly what you see on the plate.
The pizza came out smelling amazing. That was a good sign. I had prepared myself for the cheese on the bottom and the sauce on the top. What I wasn’t sure about was the location of my mushrooms and garlic. I believe they went on top the cheese but under the sauce.
I should preface the following by saying I am a crust girl. I love a thick, doughy, chewy crust that I can sop up garlic sauce or tomato sauce with. I eat the crusts my husband doesn’t. Why yes, we have been together too long.
I loved the sauce to cheese to mushroom/garlic ratio. I like a lot of sauce and cheese and this pizza met the challenge. The garlic was a little strong, but I should have said easy on the garlic. I still enjoyed the garlic though.
The flavor of the sauce was amazing. It was fresh made and robust. Mmmm.
The cheese was nice and ooey gooey. Mmmm.
The crust was weird. It had a yellow color to it, as if there was cornmeal in it. It was just not the crust I could shovel down without any toppings. So because I wanted to explain what I mean by a nice thick crust, I give you my evidence.
Why no, I did not bring the leftovers back to my room, peel the cheese and toppings off and take a photo.
But look. LOOK. It is barely as thick as my finger (my very aged looking finger at that). It makes me wonder what their thin crust is.
Overall, I liked the pizza but was sad about the crust as that is my most important part of the pizza. But would I eat it with Liz? Hells yeah. Was it a better experience than my barfing on the side of the streets of NYC? Hells yeah. Was it as good as the pizza I ate (then barfed up) in NYC? Nope.