When my editor tasked me with writing a review of Napoli’s pizza, I was confused. I consider myself a high-class critic, and being tasked with such simple assignment was an insult to my reputable and serious career. After I began to open up to Napoli’s pizza, however, I discovered that it is truly a diamond in the rough.

Sidenote:[My food reviews have been called too pretentious. Is this why all of my reviews never make the issue? Possibly. But this critic doubts it.]

Napoli’s pizza-affectionately called “Naps” by its patrons here at Saint Viator High School- is a favorite restaurant patronized by many Saint Viator students. To many, Nap’s is not just a pizza restaurant, but an institution. As I dove deeper into the culinary aspects that surround Nap’s, I realized why.

When you enter the restaurant, your senses are quickly overwhelmed by the tantalizing aroma within. It is rare that a restaurant is able to tell you so much in these first few moments. You don’t even have time to form an opinion before the eloquent smells hit your olfactory nerve. I walked up to the counter and ordered myself a single slice of cheese pizza. The slice was about to face its most scathing critical encounter.

This heavenly smell beckons the customer to disregard their preconceptions of what pizza should be. Their pizza, as I would come to discover, shatters glass ceilings in pizza constitution that I didn’t even realize existed. I have been in this industry for a year and half, and in that long career I have never tasted such excellence.

When you open the styrofoam container, you immediately notice the simplicity of the execution. There is no garnish; there is no attempt to deceive the customer; there is a certain beauty in this. It sits there as if to say, “Yes I am a piece of pizza, what else do you want from me?” I often point out the importance of food as an art form and this is a prime example. A lot can be said through the medium of the culinary arts, but it is often what is not said that is the most powerful. They hide magnificence in a styrofoam container.

The sensation that you feel when you sink your teeth into a delicious and hilariously oversized piece of Nap’s is indescribable. Since it is my job to describe it, it is an explosion of flavor and perfect ratio of sauce to bread. On the Macarthur sauce scale it ranks about a 7.8, the highest number this critic has encountered. It is rare to find fine food in such a large quantity. A single slice is an undertaking to devour, a filling and tantalizing meal.

While most people would tell you a fine wine is most adequate for palpating a nice meal, in my professional opinion, Mountain Dew Code Red, a Napoli’s staple, is exponentially better than any other red wine. Wine is a depressant which relaxes you, but dining is not about relaxing. It is excitement and danger. It’s a thrill. The copious amount of caffeine in this red elixir jump starts your tastebuds.

An odd characteristic of the ‘Naps’ joint’ is the outside decor. Visitors will notice posters advertising pasta, baby-back ribs and seafood. Furthermore, the restaurant’s website advertises daily specials for prices going up to $10.25 (Chicken or Veal Parmigiani on Tuesdays!).

In summary, Napoli’s pizza is a delicious, affordable and enjoyable experience that I would highly recommend. It’s good; eat it.