By KW and Alexandra Wong
Pinos makes seriously good pizza... you won't be able to resist
JAN 2 — I didn’t pay much attention to the new “Italian pizza place” that opened in my neighbourhood a couple of months ago. I’m not really a huge pizza fan; the sorry-tasting rubbery dough pillows at commercial outlets have left me wanting.
So it was out of convenience more than anything else, that I ventured into Pinos one rainy evening and decided to give its Siciliana pizza a try. I was not expecting much.
God evidently relishes giving us little surprises. Because before you can say Mamma Mia, I had dragged fellow foodie Alex half-way round town to try this “pizzeria like nothing you’ve ever seen.”
Like me, she did a double take at the setting.
The setup is relatively spartan. Pizzas are made fresh (some call it a la minute?) on a marble slab placed over a steamtable, most of the ingredients in little microwaveable containers.
The mozzarella cheese was portioned and kept in plastic bags; the anchovies came out of a can. A single (gigantic) industrial pizza oven on the counter.
Sounds pretty standard for a pizza place — except that this Italian-owned pizzeria is nested inside a Chinese coffee-shop.
By day, the shoplot houses an economy rice stall. At the centre of the shop is an altar, presided over by Lord Guan Yu. Stickers on the wall advertise drinks that double as remedies for sore throats and heaty bodies. By night, a decidedly non-Malaysian person kneads dough and tends the oven.
As we take our place at one of the utilitarian square tables, Cantonese grunge pop wafts over from the DVD store next door, a psychedelic stroke in a Renaissance painting.
“This is like a scene out of a Wong Kar Wai movie,” Alex whispers in awe.
We order the Siciliana pizza, which features a topping of cheese, black olives and pepperoni.
“Well?” I demand, as she reaches for another slice.
“Dizizbelygood,” she mumbles through a mouthful of pizza.
I never had a doubt.
My maiden slice latched onto my appetite like a starving lamprey, and before I knew it, the whole pie was gone.
Though Pinos has a fairly limited menu, they do things small and deep, in the words of a theatre lecturer.
Other restaurants have mile-long menus and still can’t get a single thing right, but Pinos nails it with just two items on their menu: pizza and pasta.
The secret is no rocket science: Pinos doesn’t skimp on ingredients. Your pizza is prepared before your eyes: chef AJ kneads the dough on the marble top, before piling it with layer upon layer of cheese, sliced pepper, tuna, onion, salami, roast chicken … depending on your preference.
The thin crust pizza pie is so heavy with filling that as he shoves it into the oven, I find myself half-praying it won’t give way from the weight. (Ok, I’m half-kidding too but you get my drift).
Even the spartan, no-frills Margherita (home-made tomato sauce with herbs and cheese) is substantial. But what all.
Italiana aficionadios and local rubes (read: conservatives who think Hawaiian pizza is the be-all and end-all of Italian cuisine… hello!!!) die-die must try, are the absolutely packed specials.
Exotic stuff such as the Napolitana (cheese, black olives and anchovies) are acquired tastes — you either like it or you don’t. Cans of grated parmesan and chilli flakes are on hand for customisation, but it’s not necessary.
On days when I want something different, I order one of their pastas: there’s creamy roast chicken, carbonara, or bolognaise. If not for my expanding girth, I could eat the latter every day: The spaghetti sauce on their chicken bolognaise is chunky enough for me to discern knobbly cubes of roast chicken meat.
As I finish up the last piece and contemplate whether to go for the carbonara, I realize Alex has vacated her seat and marched up to AJ. She is scolding the bemused chef. “You’ve ruined me for life. When I crave pizza, nothing else will do but Pinos.”
I chuckle to myself. Alex has a penchant for drama, but only when there is a large kernel of truth to her outrageous compliments.
By the time this is published, Pinos would have opened a few branches elsewhere — OUG’s Citrus Park food court and the LCCT in Subang are some of the locations.
I greet the news with mixed emotions. On one hand, I feel selfish for wanting to keep such a delightful secret to myself, even though the move would give more stressed-out cubicle drones the perfect place to sit back, wind down and chow down.
On the other, shouldn’t Pinos, like all good things, be shared?
Pinos
Jalan Hujan Rahmat Dua
Taman Overseas Union (OUG)
Jalan Klang Lama
56200 Kuala Lumpur.
(A few doors away from Steven’s Corner)
GPS 3.073643,101.67265
Opens 7pm-midnight approx
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