It’s a holiday weekend, so this will be a real quick post: no pictures, no elaborate descriptions, no pomp or circumstance. Family Buddha decided to go grab some lunch on Friday. On a recommendation, we hit up the Buckhead Pizza Company in, you guessed it, Buckhead.
Oddly situated in the Realm building, you have to pull off Peachtree to get a view of the restaurant. There is a parking deck just past the restaurant that offers 1-hour complimentary parking. There is complimentary valet there as well; though, I imagine that an hour is ample time for most diners.
We were greeted by Baton Bob’s daughter. Decked out in a full pink tutu-esc dress, I have no idea how the owners let her in. Still, the hilarity of the scene was priceless. I’m not gonna fuddle with the decor much. It’s an attempt at fine dining pizza. Some will like it, some will hate it, and most, I suspect, will care less. Count me amongst the latter crowd.
The menu here is immense and pretty straightforward. For some reason, nobody can just use the word appetizer anymore. Instead, you have “small plates.” Beyond those choices (and an appetizer section), you have standard “chain” Italian cuisine. Pastas, salads, sandwiches, and flatbreads dot the menu. They actually differentiate between their lunch menu and their dinner menu. Not sure why.
But of course, this is a pizza joint, so that was what we focused on. Each of us ordered a half-salad, and the experience set the precedence for the meal. Early comments were: “This is good” and “I like it.” Then everyone’s head turned toward me … can’t a guy just eat a meal and not have to think about it? Ughghgh … alas, you cannot take me anywhere. I think my initial descriptor was “bleh.” The lettuce was bagged and the dressing was bottled. Similar comments followed from my step-mother and then my pops. I would forgo the salad option.
Between the four of us, we split two medium pizzas. With a dozen or so pre-itemized pizzas and the inevitable make your own option, the combinations here are extensive in number. Most of the pre-selected pizzas have cutesy names that give you little to no indication of what’s included. They come in just above the standard options. For example, you’ll find things like cilantro, caramelized onions, and gulf shrimp. We settled on the Margharita and a custom built mushrooms, onions, and ground beef. The pizzas arrived at the same time and were placed on a two-tiered pie tray.
While my three compadres first went for the custom pie, I hit the Margharita, the true test of any decent pizza place. Topped with full slices of tomato, I was apprehensive. I took one bite and instantaneously knew what we had: glorified Dominoes. The sauce had nearly burned off … too much water in it. Meanwhile, the tomatoes on top were dried out. The crust was uniformly crisp, so that was a plus.
I grabbed a slice of the mushrooms, onions, and ground beef. This was a much better pie; ultimately, I would call it decent at best. The beef itself was nice and crumbly, just like I want it on a pizza. Still, the sauce is nothing to write home about and the dough is run of the mill.
Meanwhile, everyone else held true to form. To nervous to let their inner critic out, they affirmed their delight and then turned to me for the inevitable. By the time we walked out, the group seemed to agree that the place was far from destination worthy. One person uttered: “I certainly won’t be back anytime soon” It wasn’t bad, it wasn’t notable, and it wasn’t moving. Better than Pizza Fusion, they did manage a decent crowd by the time we walked out. As BPC delivers within a 4-mile radius, I would consider hitting them up next time I’m watching the dawgs … in the meantime, eat at your own risk.