PST Higashi Azabu — Restaurant in Tokyo

A Masterclass in Incompetence Forget the hype. Forget the accolades. This so-called “Top 50 Best Pizza” spot in Tokyo isn’t a testament to culinary brilliance—it’s a monument to managerial failure, shameless greed, and a complete lack of respect for customers. We were left not only freezing cold but utterly enraged by the astonishing incompetence of this establishment.

Here’s the situation: the restaurant allows walk-ins. Or rather, they pretend to. We lined up for an hour in the frigid Tokyo winter, hopeful for a seat and a chance to experience this supposedly “world-class” pizza. When our turn finally came, the owner-chef himself shoved us outside to sit in the freezing cold with no heating, no blankets, and no regard for human comfort. Inside, several tables were marked “reserved,” yet they sat empty the entire time we were there. The reserved guests never arrived, and the owner made no effort to allocate these seats to the waiting walk-ins. Instead, we froze while staring at empty chairs.

This isn’t just bad service—it’s gross incompetence. Why take walk-ins at all if you’re going to treat them like second-class citizens? Why bother reserving tables if you’re not going to enforce reasonable time slots for your guests? The entire system is a joke. Walk-ins are made to suffer while “reserved” tables collect dust, and the owner seems utterly incapable of balancing the two.

It gets worse. The indoor seating was so overcrowded that it looked like a scene from a subway during rush hour. People crammed together, no space to breathe, yet the owner thought it was perfectly fine to force paying customers like us to sit outside in the bitter cold. To add insult to injury, we were forced to order cold beverages. Yes, cold beverages in freezing weather. And as if that weren’t enough, there was an outrageous 20% surcharge slapped onto the bill, as if we hadn’t already paid enough in patience, discomfort, and sheer indignity.

The problem isn’t just arrogance—it’s an utter lack of basic organizational skills coupled with shameless greed. If reservations are sacred, then stop taking walk-ins altogether. If you’re going to allow walk-ins, treat them with the same respect as reserved guests. Enforce time slots for reservations so seats don’t sit empty for hours, and provide proper outdoor heating if you expect anyone to sit outside. And for heaven’s sake, don’t exploit your customers with surcharges after treating them so poorly. This isn’t rocket science—it’s Restaurant 101.

The pizza itself? Sure, it was good. But no pizza is worth being treated like an inconvenience or an afterthought. A truly great restaurant is about more than the food; it’s about creating an experience that people want to come back for. This place fails miserably on that front.

This isn’t a world-class pizza joint—it’s a cautionary tale. A shining example of what happens when a restaurant lets its fame go to its head while completely failing to manage its operations. Save yourself the time, money, and dignity. There are countless places in Tokyo where the food is just as good, the staff actually know how to treat people, and you don’t leave feeling fleeced. This isn’t...

An overhyped pizza with horrible customer service and unnecessary fees.

Unfortunately we found this place through social media with high hopes only to have a horrible night.

Short explanation: Horrible customer service, very understaffed, pizza isn’t even that good like all these other reviews are claiming, WAY OVERPRICED, unnecessary fees.

First the service:

We arrived around 6:45 and there was no line, we said a table for 2 and he said it would be about a 30-40 minute wait, we said that was okay and he began to say oh come back in 30 minutes because there’s not a table ready, we said we were okay to come back but was there a list we could get put on and he said there wasn’t, we decided to wait there and he seemed bugged we decided to wait outside. It was as if he was trying to get us to leave in a way. He then in front of our faces began to let in 6 people from a list he pulled out. He then told us to wait a little longer even though there were 2 seats at the bar in front of us. We then understood that they are VERY understaffed. Which didn’t help as they took us back and he told us we could only order pizza and we only had 1 hour, which was fine we didn’t want to be there long after the kind of off putting service we were receiving. The waitress then opened up the menu for us and stared at us expecting us to have our order ready without even having had a chance to take a glance at it. After a brief glance we asked what was most popular and got that but it was very very rushed.

The water:

First they brought our waters which were bottled water, then we realized that they were probably charging us for it, after we found it on the Menu it was ¥700! After we asked for just 1 bottle instead of 2 she showed us the front of the menu which said each person had to order 1 drink. So we said screw it because it was the cheapest thing, after opening it, it was sparkling water, they gave us sparkling water, with pizza. We then said the seat fee per person of ¥380 yen on the front where it said each person had to order 1 drink.

The food: The pizza came out and honestly it wasn’t anything crazy. The crust had some char to it, the toppings were tasted alright but my wife said she’d rather have dominoes and these were their 2 most popular pizzas. So that is why I gave it 2 stars because it was eatable but when dominoes is better than this, it’s not getting more than 2 stars. It was also like ¥5000 for these 2 pizzas that were like a S-M sized pizza. If you’re looking to get full from this you won’t because it’s not a very big pizza. It was also decently greasy.

If customer service turns you off and ruins your meal I would not recommend coming here. If you can bear the awful customer service and really want to taste this mid pizza, get it for take out to avoid those extra fees.

Again we spent a total of ¥7300 for mid pizza, sparkling water and awful...

PST Pizza, Tokyo — Where the Crust Prays to the Flame

You don’t come to Tokyo for pizza. Or maybe that’s the lie we tell ourselves to keep places like PST Pizza from becoming impossible to get into. We called a week ahead—yes, in English. Yes, it was easy. A rare, refreshing prelude in a city where good luck usually demands fluency or fate.

We arrived early. They slid us onto seats at the pizza bar—front row to the fire. It’s the kind of vantage point that turns dinner into a ritual. The glow of the oven, the silent choreography of dough and flame. The menu? English-friendly, no pretense. But the food? That’s where the sermon begins.

The Margherita: A Love Letter in Crust and Acid

The margherita hit like a memory you didn’t know you were missing. Tomatoes—bright, loud, sun-drunk—broke open in each bite. The cheese? Pulling just enough to remind you it came from something real. Almost too salty, yes. But the wood-fired crust, blistered at the edges and soft in the soul, reined it all in with the kind of restraint that only comes from mastery. If you’re chasing Neapolitan perfection, this is it—then turned up just enough to make Naples sweat.

The Bianco: An Orgy of Dairy and Divine Intervention

Then came the special Bianco. And this is where language fails. Five cheeses. A whisper of truffle oil. Burrata laid across it like silk. I spread it evenly—sacrilege, maybe, but I wanted every bite to be fair. Then it hit. One bite. That’s all. And suddenly the brain stops forming words, because the mouth is busy trying to make sense of ecstasy. It’s a flavor detonation. Funky, creamy, umami-rich. Like a cheese choir on a carb stage.

The crust held it all—never soggy, never overwhelmed. Just that perfect Neapolitan chew that says, “We’ve trained under fire, and we came out better for it.”

The Finish: Limoncello and Letting Go

We were tempted—aching—to order a third pizza. But restraint (barely) won. Instead: Tiramisu, ice cream, and a locally made limoncello that had more personality than half the people you’ve dated. Sweet, tart, punchy. Like Tokyo in a shot glass.

Verdict

5 out of 5 doesn’t touch it. This isn’t just pizza—it’s devotion in dough form. A tiny sanctuary where local ingredients are honored, tradition is respected, and your mouth is reminded why it exists.

Come hungry. Come grateful. And if you don’t moan at least once during the Bianco,...