I’ve been spending some time around the area in which I grew up lately due to some unfortunate family events. On my way back to Syracuse one of those evenings, I was passing by a local pizzeria whose pizzas were a staple of my youth. It had probably been more than a decade since I’d tried their pizza, so I decided to give it a go.
It’s a given that people tend to romanticize the past: the good old days, they don’t make ‘em like they used to, Grandma’s [insert dish] was the best ever, etc. Fear not, you won’t be hearing any of that here. I never particularly cared for the pizza from this very popular location and perhaps that’s what instilled me with the desire to always be seeking a better slice. I know many people from home swear by their pizza, and think it’s nothing short of wonderful but no, not I.
Oh, for the love of… OK, listen, we’ve discussed this before. I have my issues with the “Syracuse-Style” cross-cut pizza, but the square-cut pizza is truly a pizza abomination. What you have here is sixteen pieces of pizza. Eight of those pieces actually resume a normal slice of pizza in terms of crust-to-body ratio. Four of the remaining pieces are roughly 50% crust with about one bite’s worth of cheese and sauce. The final four pieces are the center four which have no outer crust for gripping and, essentially, are a mess of sauce, cheese and soggy crust. It is nigh-impossible to eat these without making an utter mess of your hands and face. When I was a kid, my preferred way of handling one of these pieces was to fold it in half or even wad it into a pizza ball and just shovel it in. Classy, no?
So what this creates here is a caste system for pizza slices. You’ve got the eight pieces with their crust and their cheese, which are clearly the upper ruling class. These are the pieces that everyone wants. If you’re either unlucky or slow, you’ve got to decide between the all-body/no-crust pieces in the middle or the those ridiculous hunks of crust with a dash of actual pizza in the corners. Obviously, the four center pieces are the second-tier options, leaving the corners as the red-headed step-children of the cross-cut pizza. Seriously, look at this sad, pathetic thing:
These are the pieces you give to your least favorite kid. Pizza is supposed to be about equality, about friendship! Piece #1 should be just as awesome as Piece #8. The square-cut system promotes greed, jealousy, fights among friends, crying children… it’s not good. Oh, and that’s not even the last of it.
There you have it. While the wonderful, amazing, perfect triangle slice tapers away the further it gets from the crust, the evil, terrible, unholy square-cut piece remains at the same width from end-to-end. Thus, the toppings will cause the poor under-supported slice to wither and fold under its own weight. That is just terrible pizza engineering. For shame.
Now, if this were the greatest tasting pizza on the planet, it could be cut into the shape of Hitler’s face for all I care and I wouldn’t grumble (much). Alas, after all these years, I still think that it is a very average tasting pizza; a 3.0 out of 5.0 score would be pushing it. If I’m hungry and I eat it, it’ll solve my hunger problem, but that’s about it. I wouldn’t go searching this pizza out again, there are just too many other places to get a good slice of pizza in the area. If the Pizza Geek ever finds himself out that way, I’d certainly like to know his thoughts.
I’ve not mentioned the name of this franchise as they are a local chain and I’m not interested in bad-mouthing them and possibly damaging their business. However, the tale of the unfixable wrongness of the square-cut pizza needs to be told. Triangle slices for life!


















