Pizza Joint — Restaurant in San Francisco

i would like to begin this review by saying that if it were a choice I would give this place 0 stars but since that is not an option I gave it 1 star. I now understand why this place is called Pizza joint, because all of the people that work there act like they just smoked a joint. we didn't have time to make dinner last night, so we decided to order pizza and since the red sauce gives me heartburn we ordered white sauce. anyways we ordered the food and they said that it would take 40 - 50 minutes, so we waited and waited and waited for hours. eventually we decided to call them and figure out where our pizza was. they picked up the phone and without saying anything instantly put us on hold, and they placed us on hold for a half an hour, and then hang up and called again, and again we were placed on hold and didn't pick up the phone, we had to do this about five more times, and when they finally picked up this is what happened: me: "hi i was wondering where my pizza was." staff: "uhh....... well.... what .....is... on the........ pizza?" me:"a pizza with thin crust, white sauce, sausage, Canadian bacon, black olives, and basil." staff:"oh... ok......well...... i should....... be there........ in........... six ........... minutes, i..... am..... about....to ..............leave." then they hung up. we waited for another hour after that and finally they rang the doorbell and started knocking on the door very aggressively. and when my grandpa answered the door she shoved the pizza into his hands and stormed off. we were just happy to finally have food, now remember we ordered a thin crust pizza with white sauce, black olives, Canadian bacon, basil, and sausage. we opened the box and we got no basil and instead we got an insane amount of bell peppers, we got almost none of the toppings that we ordered, we didn't get thin crust, and we got red sauce. When we finally called them to tell them that they messed up this is what happened: my mom:"hey you seemed to have messed up my order, (then she told her what they messed up)" staff:"uh....well.............we.............could ........take............off ...........the.........price .............of ..............the..............basil......................I......................guess." my mom:"ok, that's fine." me:"NO, THAT'S NOT FINE!!!!!!! I'M STARVING, AND I CAN'T STAND BELL PEPPERS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!(i may have been a little hangry)" we ate the pizza and it was terrrible, i am never ordering from...

When you see this place from the street it beckons you to come in for a slice, so much so that I've impulsively stopped here three times in the last two years when I wasn't even hungry. Then when you walk in, you think it's going to be amazing, because it has all the hallmarks of a classic pizza joint. The atmosphere is really just perfect for a slice shop.

The staff can be a little rough around the edges, which I'm okay with, as it seems more authentic, and they seem to have a good report with the regulars. I've been here twice during school lunch when they are inundated with students and they handle the rush incredibly well.

I really want this to be a place I seek out when I'm in the neighborhood, but unfortunately, the pizza is just terrible. I kept giving them another chance because I thought it had to be a fluke given the atmosphere and outrageous prices, but then I realized, they are surviving on their captive audience through the nearby high school, and the fact that there aren't many other options in the area.

I implore you to get a new recipe and make this place a beacon for slices. Test out other recipes, maybe take a trip to the highest rated pizza places in the Bay area and make some connections. There's so much information on Facebook and YouTube now (I'd recommend the Pizza Gavones free recipe), that you can make amazing pizza at home with no skills and a household oven. So, with an amazing spot and professional oven like you have, you have got to...

The joint is small, unassuming, the kind of neighborhood outpost you stumble into when the city has chewed you up and you need something solid, something honest. And the pizza—by God, the pizza—stood tall. No flop, no soggy compromise. A crust with backbone, the kind Dave Portnoy would tip his cap to and call righteous.

It’s not the sort of cathedral of cuisine people pilgrimage across town to see. No, this is a bunker, a foxhole of melted cheese and red sauce. The prices sting, but that’s San Francisco—the city taxes your wallet with one hand and feeds your soul with the other.

On the wall: a convenience-store lineup of snacks, as if you might need a bag of chips or a pack of candy to soften the landing after the pie. Overhead, The Simpsons run in endless loop, Homer and Bart like patron saints of this strange corner eatery.

In the end, the arithmetic is simple. The place delivers where it counts: the pizza is good, and when the last bite is gone you’re already thinking about the next. That, in this city of smoke and mirrors, is...