Mario's Original Pizza & Pasta — Restaurant in Baltimore

I found decent, nearly 100% traditional NYC/Northern NJ pizza, in Baltimore. I guess I have to admit it's not totally a pizza wasteland. I went in 100% sure I was going to see crappy pizza and walk out, reassuring myself it's OK to gawk at food on display, rub one's chin as if pondering a future meal, and then walk out, but when I saw the pizza was sold by the slice, I looked a little closer. That's the first sign that there might be NYC Tristate Area pizza nearby. I wasn't in the mood for pizza, so I looked for the overhead menu typical of most pizzerias, and they had none, which left me starting to smell some Baltimore. I ended up looking at color photos on a flier of some baked ziti that looked scarily like what Grandma used to make. I flipped a coin to choose my cholesterol, and tails lead me to two slices of plain pizza. When Mario walked out to serve me I asked, "Where you from?", to which he answered, "Napoli", in an Italian accent that he spoke with. We discussed how his pizza reminded me of the pizza where I'm from, and the politics that drives pizza diversity, and he admitted to living in Long Island for years. He also randomly blurted out that he would have Sicilian slices on sale if Baltimore hadn't shunned them and refused to buy them. which proved his pizza and I came from the same place, yet again. Any traditional pizza parlor up there would have a second, extremely thick style of pizza, universally served without topics and served much less frequently than the round style most people know. It sells well enough that they offer it, but never well enough that the current exotic topics craze that has overtaken pizza everywhere has had any effect on it. If you can barely sell once Sicilian pie by the slice, you wouldn't want to try for a second pepperoni pie. Things they had right: Cheese, sauce, and dough were the right thickness. Dough was the right fluffiness. A heavy dusting of cornmeal was used to lubricate the pan. The cheese was aged (though it was hard to tell due to the reheating that by-the-slice entails) The size of the slice and pie were nearly ideal The cheese to crust boundary was perfectly straight ... not some artistic nightmare. (The best pizza tastes better than it looks) They had literally every traditional table condiment for pizza, from my area, which sadly does not include Old Bay, but does include oregano, garlic, salt, two types of pepper, and parmesan or romano cheese. Maryland is very hit or miss with parmesan shakers. Things that could have been a little better: The cheeseless edge crust NY and NJ is fading away as people are not complaining that the pizzarias give us less dog-chew-toy than they used to - so, gone are the days of uniform cylindrical crust. Mario's pizza is no exception, in that the edge was pretty flat and half as narrow as the old standard. Really a very...

If Heaven had a smell, it would be Mario’s Pizza.

Let me paint the scene: I walk into Mario’s after a long, soul-snatching day, thinking I’m just gonna grab a slice and go. Baby, I ended up staying for AN HOUR. The vibes? Immaculate. The aroma? Life-changing. The service? Like getting hugged by your favorite auntie after a heartbreak.

Let’s talk about the pizza though, because LORD. I got the Margherita, and I swear to you—every bite was a spiritual experience. The crust? Perfectly crisped on the outside but soft and chewy on the inside, like it had been kissed by Italian angels. The tomato sauce wasn’t just sauce—it was a love letter. Sweet, savory, tangy, rich—like the tomatoes were handpicked by someone’s Nonna that morning and blessed with a prayer.

Now don’t get me started on the cheese. Baby. BAAAABY. That fresh mozzarella was melted into pure silk. Creamy, stretchy, slightly salty, and browned just enough to give you that lil caramelized crunch. I almost cried. I actually paused mid-bite and whispered, “Wow.” Loud enough that the table next to me asked what I was eating. I told them, “Just the best thing to ever happen to my taste buds.”

And it doesn’t stop there. I tried the pepperoni slice, and that spicy, crispy-edge, perfectly cupped pepperoni? Whew. It had me thinking about my ex and wondering if this is what real love should’ve felt like. The oil? Shimmered like gold. The flavors? Had me kicking my feet under the table like a middle schooler with a crush.

✨Bonus points for the garlic knots. They were fluffy, buttery, and garlicky enough to ward off vampires and bad vibes. Dipped in that house marinara? I ascended.

The owner, Maria herself (YES she’s real!), came out and checked on me. Sweetest woman ever. You can taste the passion in the food. You can tell this isn’t just a business—it’s a legacy.

So yeah. If you haven’t been to Maria’s Pizza yet, cancel your dinner plans. Like literally stop what you’re doing and GO. Your taste buds deserve joy. Your soul deserves comfort. And your belly deserves Maria’s.

10/10. Would sell my left AirPod to...

This was once my favorite sub shop for years - then, suddenly, it was like no one could follow simple directions. For example, "I'd like a sub with capicola, pepperoni and provolone with pizza sauce. Heat it up until the cheese bubbles. Add raw onion." They got it right for years, but then epic fail. I stopped ordering from them, but they were always friendly. So tonight at 5:20 PM, I call and ask for a cheeseburger sub to be delivered. "Lettuce, tomato, pickle, raw onion, a bit of mayo and mustard. Yes, American cheese is fine." After an hour passes, I got a chicken patty sub. Lettuce, tomato, fried onions, mayo. The fries could have come straight from a refrigerator. I call. The girl does not offer to bring me another sub. Instead, she offers to credit on my next order. I tell her that I would like my cheeseburger sub. Restate the order. (She tells me that they want the chicken sub back so the chef can see what went wrong. I resist the urge to say "It has chicken instead of ground beef" because I understand they do not want to be scammed.) So another hour passes. I call. I'm told the driver left 10 minutes ago. (I can walk to this place.) Another 30 minutes passes. I give up. As we leave to go get our refund, the driver shows up. He cannot give a refund, so up to the store we go. The manager tells us that they have been "real busy." The phone isn't ringing. One bag is waiting. The place looks pretty clean. Yeah....well, I guess now they have established themselves, customer service does not matter. Sad. When they started, they had great service, quick delivery and good food. Now the food is marginal at best. Delivery...sure. Something arrives but it is not what is ordered and no one tries to...