The best pizza place in the entire world is Sir Pizza.
I know that’s a bold statement, and it’s one that some people would argue with — and by “some people” I’m referring specifically to my husband, Steve. He doesn’t like Sir Pizza’s pizza, but then he’s not a pizza connoisseur. You can trust his opinion when it comes to barbecue, but don’t even think about asking him about pizza; he has no clue.
That’s why, when I recently decided to make the hour-and-a-half drive to the Sir Pizza nearest me (which happens to be in Siler City), I was accompanied not by Steve, but by my friend, Tom, a fellow Sir Pizza lover.
Tom grew up in Pittsburgh, just minutes from a Sir Pizza (lucky him!). The way he tells it, he was practically raised on the stuff, morning, noon, and night. (OK, not the “morning” part, but definitely the “noon” and “night.”)
My introduction to Sir Pizza came a bit later in life. Prior to my senior year in high school, I was introduced to Sir Pizza in downtown Asheboro by my aunt, Vi, my uncle, Mike, and my cousin, Chad. It was love at first bite. The four of us shared many pizzas over the next few years; Vi always favored the Royal Feast (with numerous different toppings), while my go-to was pepperoni with extra cheese.
I’ve always been a pizza lover. During high school, before moving to North Carolina, my friends and I loved going to Garcia’s on the University of Illinois campus on a Friday or Saturday night. They sold thick-crust pizza by the slice, which was really good, but, truth be told, I think the atmosphere was just as important as the pizza— college students packed the place, and we probably felt a little more grown-up just being in their midst.
And, in my hometown of Mahomet, just a few miles from the U of I campus, we had Bulldog Pizza. The cheese on that pizza was some of the gooiest, tastiest I’ve ever had—plus, it was seasoned with a combination of herbs and spices that was unbeatable. They also had an Italian Beef sub on the menu, which my mom learned to replicate and it’s still a family favorite to this day.
In recent years, Steve and I discovered a spot adjacent to Penn Station that we make it a point to visit every time we’re in Manhattan: NY Pizza Suprema. (Note: Steve doesn’t dislike all pizza, just Sir Pizza pizza.) The second you step inside this by-the-slice joint, you’re staring into glass cases filled with every kind of pizza imaginable. Despite the variety, the owner’s top recommendation is the plain cheese pizza, which is what I always go with. And the crust is thin, which, over the years, I’ve come to much prefer over thick.
My standard order at Sir Pizza has changed only slightly over the years. I still order pepperoni, but no longer ask for extra cheese — my concession to a “healthier diet.” And, anyway, it’s the pepperoni that is really the star of the show here because it’s cut into tiny cubes (rather than the usual thin, round slices), each one bursting with flavor when you bite into it. So, I ordered a small pepperoni pizza, and Tom ordered an embarrassingly large pepperoni and sausage. His rationalization was that it would give him plenty of leftovers for the rest of the week, but the fact that he gobbled down half his pizza on the spot led me to believe that it would, in fact, give him leftovers for just one day. Not judging, just sayin’.
We also ordered a dessert pizza (so much for my healthier diet); technically, I think it’s listed as “cookie dough” on the menu, although I never remember this and always ask for “chocolate chip” — they know what I mean. Neither Tom’s Pittsburgh Sir Pizza, nor my Asheboro one, offered this, and when I discovered it at the Siler City location, I was ecstatic. It’s very, very sweet — so sweet, in fact, that after eating a couple slices, Tom had to circle back and eat some more of his pepperoni and sausage. Now that I think about it, it was a miracle that he had any leftover pizza to take home. But that’s okay; I’ll be ready anytime he is to go back for more.
