Okay – I think I’m slightly depressed because my fish fry frenzy is officially over and we’re back to our normal Friday night routine. For those of you that don’t know me – my Friday nights consist of taking my son out to Larosa’s and then we come back to the house for…wait for it…WWE Smackdown. Yes, this is my life. My husband goes to his friend’s house every Friday and my teen daughter is typically anywhere besides home. Hence, the dates with the boy. (whom, I assume, will love me for a few more years before turning on me)
So, back to Larosa’s we go. Those of you in Cincinnati, Larosa’s needs no description. It is and always will be THE pizza to eat. For everyone else, I’m sorry, it’s a west side Cincinnati institution and chances are, you’ll never understand.
Quite frankly, I must not be a very good west side girl – because I find Larosa’s to be just…eh. Maybe it’s because I’ve consumed it hundreds, maybe thousands, of times and therefore, I’m incapable of judging it fairly. I don’t really deem this a food review because I realize that I’m jaded. It’s more of a word about pizza.
BUT, in general, I find most pizza, around here, to be “EH”. Just okay. It’s very rare that I’m just BLOWN away by the taste of pizza. The 2 places around here that I go to that I just REALLY enjoy the pizza are Dewey’s and Noce’s. I like thin crust. I like fresh. And, I like different.
My son and I always go to the Boudinot Larosa’s. I just find it to be consistently good, both in taste AND in service. Maybe the original is always best?
We go. We order. Pizza comes – and no, I’M not a pig (my son, however is) but we have a buddy card and the second pizza was free.
The boy will only ever eat cheese. There is to NEVER be a topping.
I, on the other hand, got pepperoni and mushroom. I switch it up and I rarely order the same toppings. I could eat ANYTHING on pizza. Yes, anchovies included.
I always grab the middle piece – I might even box someone over it!
It was good. And, I understand why it’s a hit in Cincinnati BUT – I think I’m immune.
My son, however, is not.
Yes, he’s 10 and a pizza hog. AND, he’s just going to make a fabulous westsider when he gets older. (I’m hoping without the beer addiction, however)