Review: Fire & Hops Pizza — Richmond, VA

Fire & Hops lives comfortably in that hipster‑dense stretch of Richmond's Museum District, a delightful zone on a warm spring day except for the difficulty in finding a parking spot. The space used to be Stuzzi, and the new team (veterans of Sergio’s, Pietro’s, and Arianna’s) has kept the neighborhood‑joint DNA while ditching the hackneyed wood‑fire drama. 

Their dome oven has a rotating floor, a fun bit of pizza‑nerd spectacle that also keeps the pies from developing that one‑side‑burned, one‑side‑pale personality disorder (although we did get some deep char on ours, not a problem for a Neapolitan style).

The vibe is genuinely happy, staff and patrons alike. Service is upbeat without being performative, and the room has that “we’re new, but we already feel like your spot” energy. It’s the kind of place where you order a second beer because the first one went down too easily.

Before the pizza, a quick detour: the Strawberry Kale Salad. The kale is impressively tender and fresh — not the leathery afterthought some places pass off — and the goat cheese adds the right creamy tang. But the dressing is shy. Not absent, just timid. A little more would’ve turned a good salad into a great one.

Beer matters here, and they treat it that way. The craft selection is thoughtful without being pretentious, and it actually earns the “Hops” half of the name. Thoughtfully, there is a nice cider on the menu too.

Drunken Grandma on the gluten-free crust

On to the pies. Fire & Hops calls these Neapolitan, and structurally they are: thin, chewy, nicely blistered, and not soggy. But they’re not chasing the Pizza Bones / Pupatella fermentation‑flex aesthetic. These are competently executed, neighborhood‑friendly Neapolitan crusts, not science projects.

Superb crisping under the GF crust

We chose the gluten‑free crust for our Drunk Grandma pie, and it was beyond cromulent, with more spring than its thin profile suggested, and better than the usual GF cardboard simulacrum. Not a revelation, but absolutely respectable. This pie had the most umami of the selections we had for our party of five pizza eaters.

The Margherita

The sauce on the Drunk Grandma is a standout. It’s basically vodka sauce with an outsized personality — richer, more flavorful, and more assertive than the pale pink stuff many places phone in. On the Margherita, the bright red sauce really pops, though the mozzarella dollops could’ve used another moment in the oven to fully settle.

The Fig & Pig

The Fig & Pig has a great flavor concept with fig jam, gorgonzola, and pork as well as a sublime crust texture. But the balsamic drizzle comes in a bit too hot and overwhelms the subtler elements. Still tasty, still worth ordering, but it’s a pie that would benefit from a lighter hand.

The Prosciutto & Arugula

The Prosciutto & Arugula is the star of the lineup. Perfect balance: peppery greens, salty prosciutto, shaved cheese on top, nothing fighting for dominance. It’s the one that most makes you think, “Yeah, I’d come back for this.”

Underside of the regular crust

At about $17 for an 11‑inch pie (plus $3 for gluten‑free), pricing is right in line with Richmond’s modern pizza economy. Two salads, three adult beverages, four pizzas came to $135 before tip.

Open and airy interior

Fire & Hops isn’t trying to dethrone the city’s artisanal heavyweights. It’s not chasing hype or fermentation glory. It’s aiming for consistency, comfort, and a neighborhood identity — and it hits those marks cleanly. Good service, good energy, good beer, and pizza that’s well‑executed. Not a pilgrimage spot, but absolutely the kind of place you’d be thrilled to have within walking distance.

Review: Pizza Rock - Las Vegas, NV

Las Vegas has quietly become one of America’s most interesting pizza cities, and much of that reputation traces back to Tony Gemignani. The world‑champion pizzaiolo opened Pizza Rock in Downtown Las Vegas in 2013, bringing with him a battery of ovens—gas, electric, wood, and even a 900‑degree Marra Forni—to showcase multiple regional styles under one roof. It’s an ambitious concept, and on paper, it should be a pilgrimage site for pizza obsessives.

The "Sausage and Stout" pizza

Two of us visited in January 2026, eager to see how the Vegas flagship holds up in a city now crowded with strong competitors like Good Pie, Evel Pie, and Metro Pizza. The space is huge and theatrically dark, more sports bar than pizzeria, but service was fast and friendly. 

We started with a $15 cocktail and a $9 draft beer—both well made—and split the small house salad. Mixed greens, cherry tomatoes, red onion, mozzarella, croutons, and balsamic vinaigrette: simple, fresh, and solid.

The Neapolitan Marinara

Pizza Rock’s menu is famously sprawling, but we focused on two pies that represent opposite ends of their repertoire. First up was the Marinara Neapolitan ($16.25). It arrived with a puffy, well‑fermented cornicione and textbook leopard spotting. The sauce was a deep, vivid red, and the basil added a clean herbal lift. 

Nicely cooked but soggy center

This was an excellent pizza—balanced, properly baked, and satisfying. Still, I found myself wishing we’d ordered the Margherita, the pie that won Tony his world championship and the one that best expresses his Neapolitan craft.

Our second pizza was the Sausage & Stout ($28.50), limited to just 23 per day. This one uses a honey‑malted dough made with stout beer and bakes up into a medium‑thick, Grandma‑adjacent base. The toppings—fresh mozzarella, hot honey sausage, caramelized onions, fontina, green onions, crushed red pepper, beer salt, and a sweet stout reduction—create a bold, layered flavor profile. It’s a fun, creative pie, and it delivered exactly what it promised: richness, sweetness, heat, and a sturdy crust to hold it all.

Both pizzas were very good, but neither reached the transcendent level I’ve experienced when the creator is on the scene, such as at DiFara when Dom was there, or at the Pizza Palooza where several celebrity pizzamakers showed off their best. 

Underside of the Sausage & Stout pie

That’s not a knock on the recipes or ingredients—they’re top‑tier. But Pizza Rock is a high‑volume Vegas operation, and when the master pizzaiolo isn’t in the kitchen, execution can drift just a bit. The crusts were well made, the flavors were strong, but the magic wasn’t quite there.

large dark interior space

Still, Pizza Rock remains one of the most reliable all‑around pizzerias in Las Vegas. It’s a great first‑night stop, especially if you’re with a group or want to sample multiple styles in one place. But if you’re chasing the city’s most soulful or chef‑driven pies, you’ll find more personality and tighter execution at Good Pie in the Arts District, the surprisingly excellent slices at Evel Pie, or the old‑school comfort of  Metro Pizza.

Pizza Rock delivered two very fine pizzas, a pleasant meal, and a reminder that even in a city of neon excess, great pizza still comes down to the hands that make it.

Review: Good Pie - Las Vegas NV

The Background: An Evolution of Casino Town Food

When the casinos came to Atlantic City NJ in the 1970s, folks of my parents' generation would board casino-bound buses from our Philly-area suburbs, lured by the free transit and a ten-dollar roll of quarters for the slots. Such day trippers didn't spend a lot for food (exception: a big gambling win), opting instead for buffet restaurants with for low prices, abundant offerings, and long lines. In my short experience there during the 80s, the food at casino buffets was uninspiring.

The Brooklyn Pepperoni

The Premise: Vegas Pizza Compared to NYC, Chicago, Trenton, New Haven

Vegas food offerings traveled a parallel path, and in this century, most of the seedy buffets have been replaced by midscale and upscale restaurants. Love it or hate it, you probably recognize that Las Vegas has many great dining choices. I was able to confirm this in 2011, when I visited DOCG Pizza inside the Cosmopolitan Hotel in Las Vegas. It was among the best Neapolitan pies I had tried. Was that typical for Vegas, or an outlier? 

The Promise: Las Vegas Has Some Great Pizza Makers!

Fast forward to 2017, when I visited the Pizza Palooza event near Washington DC. Here was an astonishing assembly of Pizza Royalty making fresh pizzas for sampling. These top pizzaioli were slinging pies that day: John Arena (of Metro Pie in Vegas), Robert Caporuscio (Keste), Giulio Andriani (Forcella), Paulie Gee (Paulie G's), Nino Coniglio (Williamsburg Pizza), and Vincent Rotolo (Good Pie in Vegas). Key takeaway was that my top 2 pies that day were from the two Las Vegas pizza makers! I vowed to focus on pizza if I ever returned to Vegas.

"Johnny Be Good" Grandma slice

The Discovery: Testing the Promise from Pizza Palooza

Nine years later, that trip to Vegas happened as the third and final stop of a "western desert" vacation that included Palm Springs and Death Valley. I had to make some hard choices and wasn't able to visit Metro Pie, but we did get to Rotolo's Good Pie for dinner on a warm January evening.

The cozy confines inside Good Pie

The menu presented a challenge: there were four major styles of pizza offered, including Brooklyn round, Grandma, Sicilian, and Detroit. At the Pizza Palooza, I had said this about the gluten-free Detroit slice: "It was spectacular pie, one of the best I've eaten all year. Crisp, dense yet chewy, and topped with the perfect balance of sauce and cheese. Vincent talked with me for a long time about his method and his passion for creating this pie. I was nearly speechless. If you are in Las Vegas, you have to try this pizza."

A slice of the Brooklyn Pepperoni

Despite that praise for the Detroit style, we selected the Brooklyn Pepperoni (fresh mozzarella, aged mozzarella, sauce, basil, parm, pepperoni) as our primary choice. Happily, because Good Pie also sells slices, I was able to also sample a Grandma "Johnny Be Good" slice (tomato sauce, mozzarella, fresh garlic, caramelized onions, mushrooms, Italian sausage, basil & parm).

Beautiful undercarriage of the Grandma slice

The slice came to the table first, and it hit all the right notes. The medium-thick crust was delightfully crisp on the bottom and airy inside. It had the structure to properly support the relatively large payload of toppings. All the flavors and textures were in harmony in this umami-laden slice.

The Brooklyn round pizza was beautiful to the eye. I can't fully articulate why, but there are visual clues in the cornicione of a well-crafted pie, and this one was telecasting its expertly made dough. The edges were puffy and dark, but without char marks. Much like the Grandma slice, the crust was a perfect vehicle to support the sauce, cheese, and pepperoni topping.

Underside of the Brooklyn pie

The sauce was deeply flavored, and the pepperoni was a high-grade "cup and char" variety. The cheese was similarly excellent, but also the one element that was a bit out of balance. It seemed like too much cheese relative to the other ingredients, so much that the center of the pie was a bit droopy. To my dismay, pizzaiolo Vincent Rotolo wasn't at the pizzeria that night. It's been my experience on many occasions across America that pizza staff can't fully replicate the genius of the creator, and the most common error is overloading the toppings.

Conclusion

This, though, is a minor quibble. Both pizzas were fully delicious and showed their heritage. The pizzeria had the perfect vibe - looks, lighting, service - to complement the food. The deep and narrow interior space felt like a place that had been there for decades, and I'd be eager to return on my next pass through Las Vegas. 

Lots of cheese

For the pizza die‑hards - the folks who debate hydration percentages and can spot a cold‑ferment crumb from across the room - Good Pie is one of the rare spots off the Strip where the craft actually matters. It's a place doing proper Grandma squares with real chew and caramelized edges, and New York style slices that show off a confident hand with dough and sauce. These aren’t the breathless takes you see on Yelp; they’re the nods of people who’ve eaten enough great pizza to know when someone’s sweating the details and having fun doing it.