This Week In Pizza: Danforth Pizza House

 

 

 

 

After a shorter than expected hiatus... the pizza reviews are back! 

Well, although while technically the last review was published at the beginning of February... that was based upon a pizza visit I made in November 2023. Checking my own records: sampling Mark's in mid-December was the last time I actively went out to try something new, and I'm not exactly the type to have Domino's or Pizza Hut on the speed dial when I'm feeling lazy. So... we're talking over two months without a pizza? How on Earth have I liv--oh right, frugally.

This 'comeback-don't-call-it-a-comeback' review is indeed a special request funded by an old baseball chum, and a seriously big thank you for your support. Here's hoping your investment was sound and the review is a good one! Admittedly... I might be a little rusty. 

Speaking of rusty, my experience with old timey Danforth Pizza House. The segues are still in mid-season form! You see, this wasn't my first ever time visiting DPH: way back during the First Pizza Quest of late 2018, I went with a sweet lady (whom I was extremely sweet on) to both here and the soon after departed Big House Pizza (sampling both at the Only Cafe, because Sunday cheap pints). The pizza we ordered at DPH (which I'm abbreviating this way even if no one calls them this) was 'The Bianca", a white pie drizzled with olive oil, fresh garlic, ricotta cheese and topped with arugula after baking... a pizza which is still on their menu! I suppose when you've been around for six decades, you tend to keep the favorites. Here's a picture of The Bianca from half of one of those decades ago:

 

                                       

 

Historically, there isn't much to say about The Dan House (okay okay, I won't call them that again) beyond how the current management/owners have worked quite hard to keep the place as authentic towards resembling its olden days... and aside from the sweet neon sign out front they're accomplished this atypical mission. The interior is exactly as I (and surely anyone else) remember it: the long wooden counter to the left, open pizza kitchen and oven immediately to your right as you walk in the door, a narrow waiting area (between the wooden counter and the paying one, next to the pizza making action) and a little area in the back that in theory could be large enough for a modest communal table, but was mostly cut off by boxes and various supplies. 

It's a pure takeout joint, without one seat in the (dan) house. I could've sworn that little back section actually was for in-person dining when I went with that lady those many years ago... but this was pre-pandemic of course and two years of that didn't do my memory of minor details any favours. Regardless, this place is so old school they only accepted cash. Yowza! I like paper money more than most 'darn kids' but good thing I pre-ordered over the phone and so had time to hit an ATM on the way there. 

Regardless, we are talking about a charming Danforth institution well over a half century old now, often a solo pizza island amidst the ocean of the reputable Greek cuisine flowing all around. Quite an admirable feat. However, as with arguably most of Toronto's legendary pizza joints... the legend skews the reality. Bitondo's remains perfectly decent and lovably greasy (yeah those panzos) but hardly in eyesight to Toronto's upper tier... while many similarly old neighborhood spots I've visited have fared significantly worse. 

I'll save what I initially thought of Danforth Pizza House five years ago until the end, when I grade them here for a second time.For now, that's enough of my usual backstory hooplah (also still in mid-season form). Hit it, Johnny!

 

          

That is surely the exact same brick wall in the background from the first photo. I love it. 

To be honest, when looking over the menu beforehand, the one that looked most appealing was The Bianca... you know, the exact same one I'd had before. That won't fly. Instead, this second pizza might be The Bianca's exact opposite. Or at least, as opposite as one pizza can be to another, rather than the actual opposite of pizza which is probably broccoli soup or something.

This above is called the Angry Bee: you've got your standard tomato sauce and mozzarella, cremini mushrooms, fresh garlic, a ricotta infused with roasted garlic (the white drizzle), a sweet fennel and a honey sausage (two types!), some bomba chilies and a bit of Mike's Hot Honey because why the hell not. 

A lot of ingredients to unpack here, no doubt. On paper, while overloaded, the distinct elements of creamy (ricotta), sweet (honey), salty (sausages) and spice (chilies) don't sound completely insane. Too many toppings on a pizza however, even if they make logical flavourful sense... can really mess your pie up. I recall a few times working the pass at Libretto (yeah despite my novella-lengthed article I still won't run out of stories) where people would customize their pizzas by overloading extra stuff and it would come out of the wood-burning oven a gooey disaster. 

Danforth Pizza House has the advantage of being a thicker pizza, something with a firmer base to hold all that together more effectively. Let's talk about that very foundation itself: all three major elements (sauce, cheese, dough/bread) are incredibly basic. Don't mistake that for "generic", which would be a genuine insult... by "basic" I mean none of them individually jump out at you with any flavour distinctiveness at all. Like the rudimentary versions of these key components, yet with a genuine homemade quality to it as well. It's odd and hard to explain.

The bread isn't remotely oily or buttery whatsoever, lending more of a floury taste... which does leave it unfortunately dry/chewy in places. The mozzarella cheese is merely effective at being a typical solid mozzarella cheese... as for the tomato sauce, it likewise follows the script by avoiding any kind of sweetness or acidity, or seeping juices (it's more earthy than anything). Not much in the way of herbs or seasoning mixed in either, it's a very simple thick tomato pizza sauce. Strangely memorable (and DPH doesn't hide the quantity) in how entirely ordinary it tastes. 

 

 

The toppings (all five thousand of them) are both the greatest positive of this pizza and thus the most significant negative of DPH. Confused? So am I! What I mean is, there is a lot of flavour going on here atop this thing, and to their credit it does all balance out very impressively. Unlike a crummy place like District Pizza, which will whip up wild topping combinations (at horribly inflated prices) with results all tasting similarly blech on each bite... here, every topping adds something different enough to be distinctive, yet none overshadows the others. Aside from the general heat of it (bomba chilies, man) all of this taste gels together on any bite with more than one thing, doesn't matter which.

A bit deeper into this: the sausage is of the oily, crumbly kind but holds its form well and gives a brief kick of sweet salty flavour. The garlic ricotta: not overtly garlicky or fill-your-mouth creamy, its all very subtle but enough is there to notice it. Beyond the mushrooms (which conceptually really are the one thing out of place here, anyway) or the faint honey seeped in now existing mostly to keep your hands sticky (seriously, Mark's had it right: put that stuff on the side)... there is no forgotten topping here. This results in, despite the thicker foundation, a very droopy pizza even once cooled off... but as a flavour experience the depth and cohesiveness is worthy of a hat tip. Well done.

Which leads us to the problematic weakness: nothing about this pizza is truly exceptional. The flavours of the toppings in unison comes close, but even so there's such a generalized taste to this pizza no matter what kind of bite you get. It's a good generalized bite, indeed... but then we come back to that foundation: basic. 

I have no real issues with the cheese or the sauce, both are fine, so I'll pick on the bread. When a bit on the crunchier side (more on that later)... this entire pizza takes a step up. Yet even then, there isn't anything here on a bite that screams "holy cow. Yikes this is awesome". Nothing says the opposite either, which is seriously important to mention as I continue my criticism.

When requesting this review my friend mentioned Danforth House type pizza as similar to Pizza Pizza, only (to paraphrase his explanation with my own artistic liberty) not done like complete shit. This is fairly accurate: there's a usual stiffness and a lack of taste beyond simple bread in the DPH crust I can't entirely let escape my cruel tongue. It needs more, whether it be softness or flavour. It needs something. 

Beyond that and the considerable similarity in shape and composition, comparing Pizza Pizza and this fine independent pizzeria (which is older than Pizza Pizza! 1964 versus 1967) any further would be a pizza crime I'd deserve prison-time for. Even if Pizza Pizza vouched the authorities to give me a reduced sentence, offering me their pizza free to say anything approaching positive about them... throw away that key.

 

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Overall! The best way to analogize Danforth Pizza House might be this: envision a softball team of older players that have held their general quality and style of play despite their age, and remain fairly respectable within a division that has become significantly younger and more dynamic in recent years. The team has no real superstar, but no real black hole in the lineup either (ol' Doughy behind the plate does his best)... just a veteran squad that capably knows what they're doing and doesn't seem interested in reinventing their old gas oven anyhow. 

When I first briefly reviewed Danforth Pizza House in 2018 in two short paragraphs (teach me your ways, 2018 me!)... I concluded overall it was a nice pizza with interesting flavours but somewhat chewy and boringly simple in spots. Now here, in 2024, in two dozen long-winded paragraphs... I've concluded overall it was a nice pizza with interesting flavours but somewhat chewy and boringly simple in spots. Time and money well spent! It's good to be back...

All right jokes aside, it truly was time well spent for many reasons. First and most obviously: this is a tiny place that has chugging along for sixty years, which both deserves respect and, considering how quickly these types of things can change (especially in 21st century Toronto), simply won't last forever. Any restaurant can disappear in a blink, often before you can properly say goodbye.

I mean maybe DPH can last forever, they've made it longer than almost anybody so who knows? But just in case they are indeed mortal... it was insightful to go back and really give an honest, deeper look into one of Toronto's last remaining old school pizza legends. And hey, you should do the same... especially if its your first time or like me its been several years. They aren't mind blowing (spoiler), but there really isn't anywhere else like this place.

 

Still going! Screw that conventional conclusion because second, we gotta talk the re-heat test. If you're a long time reader of my madness-I-mean-pizza-ambitions you knew I wasn't getting out of here without mentioning re-heat value. 

See, I never tested DPH on this until now. That first time in 2018 going with a maybe-sweetheart, I don't recall what happened to the remains of that pizza (I wanna say it was forgotten in a night of passion, but more likely I ate it cold watching Star Trek by myself... pre-pandemic memory who knows I'll fill in the gaps as I like). Here is the newer slice again to rid you of any unwanted mental image:         

 

 

With thicker slices, my first instinct is always the toaster oven at a modest heat so to bake evenly but not burn the thing (especially with an extra drizzle of creamy cheese on top). Here, this did not yield positive results: the tip became fairly soggy and the edges were stiffer than ever. Almost like a microwaved result (which please, even as a last resort eat it frozen instead at that point). 

Still a couple of leftover slices in my quiver, I tried DPH on the frying pan, with absolute minimum heat and mostly covered so to lock in some but not all escaping moisture. Fully covered you get condensation on your slice and the flavour and top texture gets completely screwed. 

I'll be damned... the pan with partial cover actually worked brilliantly for this thicker pizza. As I hinted earlier... when fresh it worked optimally when crunchy. Heating it low on a pan, long enough for the entire thing to heat not just the bottom... the time inevitably gave that very bottom a good crunch that really was the missing link this otherwise meh dough needed. Not that it was overall better on the re-heat, few pizzas ever are (the taste numbs), but enough of the flavours of those seventeen thousand toppings held through to make a pair of leftover slices a happy treat the next day. What a strange, strange pie these folks make.  

Back in 2018/19 I gave Danforth Pizza House a "B-" and #47 out of my 75 top pizzas in Toronto. Looking back on that list, time machine opinion alone I'd have them at least five spots higher. Now in 2024, approaching a list of 150... I strongly doubt they sniff their old spot in the upper third. The game is climbing. 

However, I'm upgrading the Danforth Pizza House score to a "B" and a robust one at that. Like I said, it's not going to wow you by any measure, and the overall boring competence is only interesting to pizza weirdos like me... but it's nearly flawless in the most unspectacular way possible and as a place of Toronto food history, a true fundamental institution for the food scene of the Danforth and East York... for Toronto pizza fans it's more than good enough to be a 'must visit' and 'try at least once'.                       

This Week In Pizza: Pizzeria Libretto

 

 

 

The boxes used to be brown.

 

Welcome to the nostalgia hour, brought to you by me! West Collier Street. You can call me Liam though. We're all friends here.  

If you've read even a few of my many food reviews, you've likely inferred that I worked at the original Pizzeria Libretto at Ossington and Dundas West many years ago (I tend to mention it once in a while). Indeed it was the job that enabled me to escape a difficult living situation and spread my wings out there in the big old bad world... and while my tenure at Libretto had some low points, overall I look back fondly at the twenty months I was employed there. 

I credit them strongly for elevating my knowledge and appreciation of good pizza. Before my Libretto days? I dare say Domino's was one of my favourites. To be so young again! (I still knew Pizza Pizza totally sucked though). While this article will be a review/overdue re-evaluation of Pizzeria Libretto... it's also a fine excuse for both my pizza origin story (heh heh sorry not sorry) and to share particular experiences working at the Ossington Libretto eleven/twelve years ago. I'll properly review and critique the pizza while we go, don't worry... but this will take a while as I indulg--I mean tell some good stories.

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It was in January 2011 that Libretto brought me aboard. I was 23, with only a few years of being a porter at The Drake Hotel providing me any substantial work experience. Nevertheless, I must've impressed my two interviewers: Josh the bar manager and Jamie, a co-owner/general manager of sorts. The job as a busboy was mine! However, to seal the deal I had to take a menu test... and being at that point an absurdly picky eater... I'd never even heard of half the ingredients they put on their dishes. Didn't even know what arugula was. To my endless fortune and benefit, my then-girlfriend (and still occasional pizza-trying associate) was/still is endlessly more knowledgeable and helped coach me through what I needed to know. Just like that, I knew gorgonzola was a cheese and not a sister of Medusa. 

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Previously, the two occasions I numerically ranked the best pizza in Toronto... Libretto was consistently near the top of the list.

Back in 2011 or 2012, there wasn't Badiali, or Revolver, or viral Prince Street lineups, or Fourth Man, or Descendant (Chris Getchell indeed briefly worked at the Ossington Libretto while I was around) or Maker, or Blondies, or One Night Only, or any of the countless others. Nowadays there are several Pizzeria Librettos around Toronto, but when it was just that single one... nestled just south of Dundas before a zillion other restaurants opened nearby and before the big Toronto Pizza Boom... this random hip Italian pizza restaurant surrounded by a bunch of Portuguese bakeries and dusty hardware stores was the place. 

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I'm a skilled bartender now (call me, seriously) but back in the Libretto days I was just a busser and a pretty darn lousy one. Despite being a small-ish restaurant in size, you had to hustle at Libretto. The biggest priority, considering the high volume of patrons and people on waiting lists every night, was flipping tables. "A group of four just left! Quickly! Clear what's left on there, wipe it down and make it presentable so another group and come in!" And the goal was to do this in ninety seconds or (ideally) less, on top of your other responsibilities like bringing bread to tables, help stocking the bar if they needed anything, checking the washrooms downstairs, running appetizers, clearing empty plates and polishing cutlery etc. 

I think I tried my best at it, sorta... but there was a night a fellow busser (there'd be two of us and would split tips) aggressively called me out as we were dividing the end-of-night tipout if "I thought I'd legitimately earned that". He was probably right... like I said, don't think I was very good at it... but this wasn't a fun thing to hear at the end of a shift regardless. 

Eventually, the management realized I had a talented knack at one thing: food running. This wasn't financially in my favour: the shifts were much shorter and despite a higher wage the food runners didn't get a tip out... but I certainly enjoyed it heck of a lot more. My favourite Libretto stories all involve me in this very role, unsurprisingly.

 

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Back forward (forward back?) into November 2023: it was a cold Thursday that I went to retry Pizzeria Libretto, my first ever time visiting the Danforth location. They opened that one while I was still working at Ossington, and at the time venturing out there seemed much too far for a west-end lad like myself... like touring another city. The world has indeed turned and left me here. 

Upon this revisit of Libretto (about four years since I'd tried them) one thing I found striking was how little the menu had changed since I worked there. All of the pizzas are the same, as are most of the salads and apps... with several (like their pepperoni option) that we floated as daily specials back then. Stick with what works, I suppose... but it was strange to feel like after over a decade I could potentially jump behind the lines into service and credibly describe half the menu.

Containing this inside knowledge... well I'd been craving a good mushroom pizza badly, but also was feeling something with a punch. Boom! Pow! So, I elected for their mushroom pizza (which is a white one) with no modifications beyond adding their Nduja sausage. 

Their Nduja Sausage pizza (also still on the menu) was an exciting addition to the menu about halfway through my tenure. "Here's a wild spicy pizza that is super unique". At the time, my spice tolerance was at kitten levels and that sausage kicked my ass on first sampling. Never had I experienced something so soft and marinating in pure flavourful heat. 

Seeing as it was a Thursday roughly about 7pm, I was fairly surprised how empty Libretto Danforth was (maybe three tables seated). I mean... over a decade later and now that they have a zillion other locations... the Libretto Experience really isn't that special anymore. They're just "another pizza place that does the rapid fire oven thing". 

Indeed, I was rather fortunate to be inside when it was a Toronto sensation: it's always fun when you're at work and you run into somebody you know, and their initial reaction is "Whoa! You work here? Nice!". The Drake Hotel in 2007 was like that too, but in a different and much crazier way. Before we approach "oh my life was way more fun back in the day" type of lamentation here... while all those were interesting times, late nights/early mornings of tidying washrooms during cocaine parties are thankfully behind me. 

 

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Once the floor managers at Libretto realized my singular talent as a food runner (about five months in), the majority of my shifts were at the pass, with one of the sous chefs jumping in to expedite when orders really began to pile up (I was usually fine solo until it reached about seven or so). Libretto would throw me a gnawed bone with an occasional (and more financially lucrative) bussing shift on less busy nights (and the Monday afternoon was consistently mine as well)... but on the really busy evenings I was often their point man at the pass. 

I genuinely don't like tooting my own horn (believe me at your leisure) but I seriously kicked ass as a food runner there: I was casual but focused, good at catching little mistakes even the chefs occasionally missed. Only once or twice amongst thousands of opportunities I dropped anything (and it was an eggplant pizza so no big loss)... rarely put anything at the wrong table (worst feeling in the world... trust me it sucks and screws up everything). I knew the menu well and so could answer questions diners would ask when I dropped off their grub... plus I'm fairly tall which does help when you're carrying three large pizza plates through a compact, crowded restaurant. About a year in the new general manager offered me the position full-time with a raise (still without tip-out though)... but I was starting university at the time with occasional night classes and so couldn't be so steadily available. 

This all leads into my favourite Libretto story. A Saturday in (probably) July, 2011: I play baseball on Saturdays in Etobicoke, and my game was a morning one while I was scheduled to work at 6pm. No recollection what happened in the game (I think we were good that year?) but afterwards a teammate invites me to share a joint with him while we watch the next game unfold. As one does after a hard fought ballgame! I accepted, take only a couple of puffs knowing a busy Saturday night shift is looming... and no sir even my cautious intake was pure folly. My eyes would've glowed through a pitch dark room. 

I say my goodbyes and head home, still a few hours to spare until the shift. But the world is throbbing around me... the realization of working a busy restaurant, in the role of precisely delivering dishes of food to tables, on a hectic Saturday night with a waiting list hours long... it all rapidly becomes internally problematic. I take a shower! Drink a beer! (RIP Tankhouse). Wash my face! The haze persists. In a blink, now it's go time. Onto my bicycle and down Dundas Street West towards work we go, still feeling a careless glow pretty strongly.

Arrive. Go through the side door, up the stairs into the staff area. Changing into my shirt and feeling quieter than usual (always helpful for the herbal induced anxiety). I enter the restaurant (it's about 5 o'clock and already half-full) and head towards the pass. I'm still feeling it pretty strongly: my mind drifts outwards to the decor of the restaurant, thoughts lingering on something stupid I did at age fourteen (sorry, whoever or whatever), a smell of food amplifying the munchie sense... but I stay relatively composed. 

Not long after arriving, I notice none of the usual sous chefs are in the kitchen. Strange. A few orders come up and I run them without issue... its the early quieter part of Saturday service but this is all bizarre to me. Why am I alone? A busy night like this? A summer Saturday? I was good, but not that good. Few are.

And then on cue, as I wonder this question to myself while still seeing double (four Krustys) from the two puffs of a joint I'd taken several hours earlier... I see Rocco Agostino, in his chef whites, enter the front door of the restaurant and come directly towards me at the pass. He's the expo tonight... the owner, the head chef of now multiple other restaurants, creative lead of the whole concept of Libretto... managing a pass and a kitchen about to be completely swamped for a long dinner rush, with only 23 year old 'accidentally-stoned-out-of-my-mind' me as a key liaison. Hoooo boy. I must've worked about 300 shifts at Libretto Ossington and saw Chef Rocco run the pass maybe twice the whole time, and naturally one of those was this particular night. 

Lets just say this shook my focus from whatever cloud it was into 110 percent "ohhhhh... fuck". 

It actually was a smooth night, despite seeing those pesky four Krustys during the first half of it... and while Chef Rocco wasn't the chattiest fella, the vibe he mostly gave off was one of directness and wanting culinary perfection. Intimidating more so via his position, not any particular intensity (at least by chef standards. I've worked with a couple that make Ramsay seem like a puppy). Can't say I impressed him with my performance (wish I could, believe me) but I certainly didn't make any mistakes to suggest the opposite. Somehow, I escaped the situation with no one the wiser. 

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It's an old shoe that I stomp these days (even earlier in this very review), but the pizza game in Toronto has seriously leveled up in the past decade. 

2011... you could make a somewhat-legitimate case the single outpost of Libretto on Ossington was the best Toronto had to offer. Sure, you still had the true old school legendary spots like Bitondo's, Vesuvio... and Queen Margherita was going strong at this time as well (as Libretto employees we jokingly referred to them as our rivals). In 2023/2024? Well, you know my thinking about pizza chains...

...wait, you don't? Well basically that: they become significantly less unique obviously with expansion, and also suffer immediate diminished quality. A small business having a second or third location? Cool! Sometimes it can escape my theory... but it's sadly a rare occasion. It's like watering down a cocktail with filler because you have to spread it into multiple glasses (also never actually do that): you're diluting something singular and perhaps magical and turning it into a brand. A product not for mouths anymore, but for eyes and consumption. 

Hey, I'm not naive. Or judgemental either. I know at the end of the day this is how the business world works, restaurants especially (to survive) and clearly Chef Rocco and Max Rimaldi were/are smart in that realm. None of that general philosophy factors into my review... I just want to say how it tastes to me now, here in 2023, biases and personal history aside. So yeah... at the risk of being a "it's not the same anymore" guy,...well goddamnit it's just not the same. Close, but also way short.

 

  

It pleases me that they still make and provide, free of charge, their classic chili oil. That stuff rules. Anyhow, above is their mushroom pizza, a white base pie with my addition of their Nduja sausage to add a little meaty spice to it all. Texture-wise... there's a good amount of char, somewhat coating your thumb in edible ash but nothing too unbearable, while the center of the pie is mighty drippy/droopy (indeed I always forget this texture aspect about authentic Neapolitan spots). Libretto is quite good in terms of being enjoyable to eat, but you definitely have to fold the slice between your fingers, otherwise all the important stuff on top will slide away... honestly oozing through your fingers.

A couple of issues: first off: it needs more mushrooms. It's their "Mushroom Pizza!". Back in my day, I wore an onion on my belt which was the style at the time... I mean uhhh they definitely weren't so lacking on the shrooms. You can't even see that many in the picture! Second: way, way too much thyme on this pizza. A sprinkling here and there would've been a nice touch... a welcome addition of a           different subtle flavour. Here? Serious overkill... you get it on every bite and that stem, dry texture works against the conceptual strength of this pizza: its rich creaminess. I don't have time for all this thyme! (Come on... if you've read these reviews you knew that joke was coming).

The flavours are... pretty good. There are a few different cheeses in play here and they all work well together (the intense earthiness of the blue definitely compliments mushrooms). I like the juiciness of the mushrooms as well: they're not dried out and as such you can really taste their presence throughout the pizza. Good taste when you get em: rich, some good creaminess... honestly if not for the excessive amount of thyme (thyme is not on my side... no it ain't) this is a pizza worthy of sneaking up a few spots.

As for my addition, the Nduja sausage... I find a lot of places offer something similar now (often just the spice sans sausage) but Libretto does it in a way I've yet to fully encounter elsewhere. It's a crumbled sausage full of spice but I'd forgotten how sloppy and greasy they use it: the texture resembles more of a thick dollop of hummus than a solid cooked pork. It tastes quite nice... not remotely as intense on the heat front as I recall but there's sort of a lemony zing, a sour spice to it. As a match with the mushroom pizza... a regular fresh sausage crumble probably would've worked better. That citrus spice is very interesting but it doesn't work with these creamy rich mushroom flavours. Also, I was hoping for something with stronger heat... and while it doesn't entirely clash it is out of place both flavour-wise and aesthetically.

 

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I don't have many other Ossington Libretto stories to tell, at least interesting ones. And there was much rejoicing. 

Libretto was a long time ago, my life was in a very different phase. It took me a while to feel like I fit neatly into anything there. I'd go for drinks at the (now long gone) Crooked Star across the street with folks after work... but aside from a couple people I gradually lost touch with... at the end of it all there wasn't anyone I was super close/tight with at Libretto. Even after almost two years of being there. That's me, perfectly summarized. I'm a friendly person but I sucked (and still suck) at making friends and/or continuing friendships. I want to stay in touch, deep down to my soul. But I'm bad at it. Excuses until the end of time, here. Epitaph material, there.

 

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Okay. There are a couple more funny little things I can mention about Ossington Libretto. Pretty much my last chance to do so in this format... when can I legit write about Libretto in this way again? It won't be for the pizza... (spoiler).

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First of all, it's fairly standard practice in restaurants (particularly fine/casual fine dining ones) that staff should not be eating while they're on the floor. Hell, at Libretto in those days there was one server who got grief a few times just for chewing gum... and he was one of their best high sellers consistently. 

Even in the back near the dishwashing pit, out of sight from the diners... instant trouble if a manager caught you just snacking on a piece of bread. I got a good slashing from our general manager once for snacking on something in the walk-in fridge.... legitimately the worst timed quick break you can imagine (of all the times for her to wander in there!!!)

Anyhow, when I'd food run I was in complete control of the pizza side of the pass (appetizers came out on a different side, the servers would usually handle that) unless we got slammed and the chef de cuisine would come over and expedite... simplifying my role to just run the plates to the right tables and seats numbers. 

On slower nights I'd usually have the pass all to myself, and the floor staff liked my style of saving the mistake pizzas. I mean, you're on your feet in fifth gear for several hours because the place is busy... if there's a pie that's still entirely edible but we can't serve because it's slightly burnt on one side or has a tiny hole... what's wrong with keeping it out of sight from customers so that it these hard working staff can eat it when they have a brief (and I mean brief, like 30 seconds) moment for a break? Certainly beats throwing it in the trash.

Alas, FOH managers and the chefs did not share this particular sense of charity, for different and obvious reasons. I'd still discreetly do it, and while I never got in direct trouble there were a bunch of times the chef-on-duty would sternly direct me to throw out mistakes immediately. 

There was one slower night where before I took the pass, the floor manager (who was usually a server but incredibly rather intense in either role) took me aside and said: "Liam! I don't want to see a single mistake pizza hidden away tonight! Throw it out!" "Gulp", said I, but I nodded. Thing is, Libretto also does takeout (obviously, they're a pizza place) and so we have a bunch of ready pizza boxes at the pass as well. For a time I could even fold them one-handed. 

What I'm about to say is in pure honesty, because one: I would never lie to take advantage of a situation and two: even on slow nights the kitchen would churn out like 150 pizzas and at 900 degrees in a wood burning oven... you're not gonna get it right even 9/10 times... so I would hide a pizza box on a shelf below the pass and if a pizza wasn't up to snuff (seriously, if the pizzaiolo's themselves said "we're remaking this, it's burnt on one side, it's garbage)... I'd throw it into the "garbage" of my little hidden away pizza box, to take it home to share with friends or a late night snack. Some nights I'd have three or four pizzas stacked atop one another in this one box... perks of the job! Seriously though... I hate wasting food and a good pizza is especially horrible to waste. I never took one good enough for a table, for the record. It had to be rejected on both ends, but obviously still something delicious (and they mostly were).   

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Last tale, then I swear I'll get to my final thoughts on Libretto as an actual pizza in 2023. Call it a random Tuesday afternoon when a rowdy group of about six came in and commandeered a good portion of our relatively empty and previously silent restaurant. 

As a Raptors fan I recognized two of them instantly: Sonny Weems and DeMar DeRozan. Keep in mind this was 2011/2012...  Deebo was in maybe his second season at this point and Weems... was still in the NBA. (No seriously there is a short portion of Raptors history where we debated whether Weems or DeRozan was the better player... ah the fun of the 11/12 season)...

They weren't a particularly fun table to deal with, just in terms of being fairly rambunctious, loud and indifferent to how restaurant service works (pretty sure I accidentally tapped Weems' phone in his hands with a pizza plate while trying to set it down on the table... he wouldn't budge whatsoever, for real). It was an odd scene and once the party left, a co-worker remarked to me something to the effect of "Those Raptors are a classy bunch, eh" with dripping sarcasm. 

He was not a basketball fan, likely, because first off only two of the six at the table were actual Raptors players. More interestingly: there was one particular person at that table who wasn't overtly obnoxious, obtuse or difficult to deal with. Just a dude quietly hanging out with his much louder friends, not once raising his voice (they were a loud group, seriously) or sending anything back or banging a table... and that dude was DeMar DeRozan.

If you follow basketball this probably isn't surprising considering what we know of DeMar at this point over a decade later, but he legit was the only one (sorry Weems but, yeah) at that table not causing any type of ruckus. Genuinely polite amongst a companionship of rowdy difficulty, when he must've been 21 or 22 years old at most and far before his future of making all-star teams. It always stood out to me from that moment onward... though I do wish I could remember which pizza he got. Class act, that Deebo. 

 

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Overall. This has been a review stuffed with stories but little substance in terms of actual food analysis. Sue me! (Or don't. that's preferable)

Food is the most important element sure, but not the entire story. Working at Libretto when I did was an important experience in my life... with several low-points (I won't tell the tale of why I quit, which is actually far from the lowest) and many intriguing highs as well. 

I thought it would be harder here to separate my bias/history from the actual Libretto product (I'd gotten some flack for ranking them so high on my Best Toronto Pizza list a few years back) but it actually isn't a conflict of interest anymore. I tried the pizza, and felt no swing either way. Perhaps this review is partially a final release (insert joke here) of those Libretto stories I've had rattling around in my brain so long and have never told. 

No, I tried Pizzeria Libretto here in 2023 and I'll honestly say that it doesn't belong anywhere near its old perch among the Top 10 pizzas in Toronto. Probably not even Top 25 anymore. It's just another "very good" type of that pizza, with a faint hint of touch. They still have something, but its well below the top grade. 

It's still good. Quite good, in fact. But it doesn't stand out anymore. The quality is there, no doubt, but I think the fact their menu is nearly identical since the days of eleven freaking years ago that I worked there... speaks to a place more interested in expanding a brand and less on innovation. 

A Toronto Pizza Boom(TM pending, call me) has happened and its lapped Libretto by. I tried a white pizza from Bello last year and it was infinitely better, tastier and more inventive than anything my old gig offers... and its the same style don't forget. Not to mention all the other new kids on the block I'd comfortably rank ahead of Libretto. You can't really respect Libretto as an OG either, considering how much they've sold ou-I mean expanded to be everywhere. Not a criticism, just an observation. I see your vacuum frozen pies in the hell that is Loblaws, is all I'm saying.

Separating all that... it's a very good pizza. Nothing really jumps out beyond the enjoyable middle texture and creaminess, and the ingredients are still top notch. Plenty of good flavours, they do still know what they're doing. 

Alas, I'm not sure if they've lost a step or if my tastes have evolved... but either way I'm landing on a "B+" here, and a respectable one. Good pizza! You won't be disappointed. But... they just aren't as interesting as the good Detroit styles (Descendant, Slowhand), the NY ones (Prince Street, Badiali, 4th Man), the other rapid expansion ones (Blondies, Maker) nor do they have as compelling a tale or taste as One Night Only or Mark's. The game has changed, the field is much different... and serious players have touched the grass. They don't stand out nearly as they did before. It's good... but I don't recommend seeking them out. You've had this before.