DE Pizza Review: Crust & Craft
Rating:
Final Composite Score: 4 out of 8 slices (rounded down from 4.5 average)
[Her: 4.5 out of 8 slices]
[Him: 5 out of 8 slices]
[Older Son: 4 out of 8 slices]
[Young Son: 4.5 out of 8 slices]
Read the full "dialogue review" below these real-time pictures of your reviewers' pizzas.
Him:
This is our review of Crust & Craft in Rehoboth. And because we managed to get the entire family together for the July Fourth weekend, this will be an extra-special, star-spangled pizza review.
We had the red and white. But, unpatriotically, our pizzas had no blue.
Others:
[Groaning and sighing, with an under-the-breath "Dad joke."]
Him:
Before anyone accuses us of gluttony, let me offer a preemptive defense. We ordered four pizzas, but Crust & Craft serves twelve-inch pies—not the usual sixteen-inch or extra large eighteen-inch pizzas you might find elsewhere. So four pies were research, not overeating.
Older Son:
That's an important legal distinction.
Him:
The most important.
We ordered four pizzas: the Queen, which is essentially their margherita pizza; the Funghi, a white pizza with mushrooms and caramelized onions over bechamel and mozzarella cheese; the Roni, essentially a Queen with pepperoni; and the Goodfella, basically a Queen with sausage and peppers, but also with provolone added to the mozzarella.
Her, why don't you start us off?
Her:
I'm going to go in the order I ate them.
The Roni was easily my favorite of the four pizzas. The pepperoni was crisp, flavorful, and exactly what I want from pepperoni. The sauce had good flavor, the amount of cheese was just right, and the pepperoni itself provided enough seasoning that I never felt the need to add salt.
The crust was the same crust we had on every pizza, and that's actually one of my observations about the whole meal. Every crust tasted exactly the same. It had a nice char, but it was almost... manufactured in its consistency.
Not bad. Not great. Just perfectly identical. It had the feel of a chain restaurant where every product comes out exactly the same every single time.
Him:
That's a great take. And I agree completely about the pepperoni pizza. I'm not quite ready to call it delicious, but it was really good.
More importantly, it's one of the few pizzas we've reviewed where I immediately thought, "I'd happily order that again." We've visited places where, frankly, I never need to go back.
This isn't one of them.
Her:
Next I had the Funghi, and unfortunately it was almost the opposite experience.
It was supposed to have mushrooms, caramelized onions, mozzarella, and a béchamel sauce. Instead, it mostly tasted like . . . not much.
The mushrooms were there, but they weren't especially flavorful. The onions completely disappeared. Everything blended into one creamy, one-dimensional flavor.
It reminded me a little of Fettuccine Alfredo. Not because it was rich and wonderful.
Because it was one-dimensional.
It desperately needed salt, grated cheese, red pepper flakes—something to wake it up.
Him:
I agreed with that almost entirely.
The mushrooms seemed to be fresh—not canned—but they didn't taste like freshly sautéed mushrooms. They had almost no mushroom flavor.
And the cheese really surprised me. For whatever combination of cheeses they used, I found it almost completely flavorless.
The crust was actually the most interesting and tasty part of that pizza.
Her:
Then I tried The Queen, which is really their margherita.
The sauce was actually my favorite part. It had a nice fresh tomato flavor with just enough acidity to keep things interesting.
But when you build a Margherita around fresh mozzarella, the mozzarella has to be outstanding. This wasn't. It wasn't bad. It just wasn't especially rich or creamy, and there wasn't enough of it.
Whenever I make a pizza with fresh mozzarella at home, I usually put a layer of shredded mozzarella underneath so the pizza still has that classic cheese experience.
This one felt like it needed that.
Him:
There's an old joke with the punch line, "the food is terrible—and such small portions."
Here, the cheese wasn't quite good enough . . . and there wasn't enough of it.
Her:
I only had a small bite of the Goodfella, but I actually liked the peppers.
I don't have much more to say because I didn't eat a full slice.
I will say, though, that the caesar salad was very good, the wings were excellent, and the service was pretty good.
The restaurant was a little warm, although it was about a hundred degrees outside.
And yes . . . one of the servers dropped a greasy fork on me.
Him:
Boy, you drop one fork and you can kiss your service score good-bye.
Her:
It certainly made an impression. And I don't just mean on my shirt.
Him:
Older Son, you're up.
Older Son:
Overall, I thought there were really only two ingredients that were worth it: the pepperoni and the sausage. Everything else was remarkably forgettable.
The crust was fine. The sauce was fine. The cheese tasted like . . . grocery-store cheese.
Nothing tasted terrible. Nothing tasted special.
The Roni was clearly the best pizza because the pepperoni actually contributed flavor.
It was very greasy, though. Too greasy.
The Funghi, though . . . I honestly thought it was bad. The mushrooms on my slice were bitter. The onions had no flavor. The cheese had no flavor.
I am just learning there was bechamel on that pizza. I never found it and I didn't taste it.
The Goodfella was acceptable almost entirely because the sausage itself tasted good. But the other pizzas were just not good.
Him:
Would you actually say "bad"?
Older Son:
Yes.
And here's my confession: Mediocre food annoys me more than bad food.
Bad food at least commits to an opinion. Mediocre food just shrugs. That's what frustrated me here. They wasted my time with empty calories.
Him:
Well...
That escalated quickly.
Younger Son:
I think I land somewhere between the two of you.
The crust was consistently decent. Actually, I think it bordered on good. It had a nice char. It wasn't too fluffy. And I like fluffy bread products. It wasn't paper thin. It had some chew.
But every single one of us kept reaching for the salt. And that's what I don't understand.
Salt is one of the cheapest, easiest ways to improve food.
You don't have to attend an elite culinary school—or even go to Naples—to know that pizza dough needs salt. If they had simply added more salt to the dough, I honestly think my score would have gone up by at least a full slice.
The dough already had character. The salt would have brought it to life.
Her:
Maybe we're all sodium deficient. Because this is a pattern in out reviews.
Younger Son:
Maybe.
But it's remarkable how much better the pizzas became after I added some salt.
I'm not going to judge them based on how they tasted after I seasoned them, because we've established throughout this project that it's the restaurant's responsibility to make the pizza delicious—not mine.
Still...
The difference was dramatic.
The pepperoni pizza was easily the strongest. The pepperoni had real flavor, good crunch, and exactly the right amount of spice.
The Margherita disappointed me because whenever I see a pizza that's mostly red sauce with just a few islands of mozzarella, I'm already skeptical.
And if the mozzarella isn't exceptional, there's nowhere for the pizza to hide.
The Goodfella had sausage and peppers . . . at least that's what the menu promised. Until someone pointed out the peppers, I genuinely hadn't noticed them.
For the Funghi, I will echo what everyone else said: very little flavor.
Overall, though, I didn't think the experience was bad.
The beer selection was good. The Caesar salad was good. The wings were good. The service was good. I just kept thinking how close they were.
With a little more seasoning, especially in the dough, this could have been a much stronger meal.
Him:
I think I'm going to be the dissenter today.
I agree completely that the Funghi was disappointing. The vegetables disappeared. The cheese had no flavor. There just wasn't much happening.
I also agree that the Goodfella somehow managed to hide both the sausage and the peppers, which is an impressive trick. I saw the sausage. I didn't taste the sausage.
But I liked the crust more than the rest of you. It wasn't perfect. It needed more salt.
I wanted more crispness. But it had a pleasant char, good chew, and tasted fresh.
I'd actually call it good. Not great. Good.
I also liked The Queen more than everyone else. The sauce had a pleasant tomato flavor. The fresh mozzarella could have been richer, and there wasn't enough of it, but I still enjoyed it.
The Roni Roni, though, was unquestionably the star. That pizza was satisfying. The pepperoni had crunch, spice, and enough grease to remind you that pepperoni pizza isn't supposed to be health food. There were actual layers of flavor there.
And that's what I kept wishing the other three pizzas had.
One other thing worth mentioning is that the restaurant itself is very well run. The food arrived quickly. The servers were attentive without hovering. Everything happened when it was supposed to happen.
Aside from impaling my wife on a fork, the service was excellent.
All right. Time for scores.
As always, one slice means, "please consider another profession."
Eight slices means pizza nirvana.
Her?
Her:
Four and a half.
Older Son:
This is the most four-out-of-eight four that has ever been a four.
Him:
So, four?
Older Son:
And that's generous.
Younger Son?
Younger Son:
Four and a half.
I gave another place a four, and this was definitely better than that. Had they simply seasoned the dough properly, I honestly think I'd have given them a six.
Him:
And I'm going to dissent upward—but only slightly.
I'm giving Crust & Craft five slices.
I know I am supposed to the grumpy old reviewer. But they earned a four-and-a-half because not everything worked. It just didn't.
But because when they got some things right—especially the pepperoni pizza—they showed they were capable of making something that might be worth a second visit.
So the family lands somewhere around four out of eight slice. And that's appropriate to celebrate July Fourth.
[General grumbling and discontented noises.]
A well-run restaurant with excellent service (apart from occasional flying silverware), good beer, one genuinely enjoyable pepperoni pizza, but too much disappointment.
Close. Maybe. Maybe frustratingly close.
And that's our review of Crust & Craft in Lewes, Delaware.
Younger Son:
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