The Vincenzo's Supreme Pizza.

Pizza, to me, is an extremely personal choice.
Me? Honestly, I like ‘em all — every odd stop between the recognized styles of New York and deep dish Chicago pies.
My youth was filled with rural interpretations of pizza. I vividly recall the first pizza place I entered, the smells, the dinging pinball machine. The crust was thin, cracker-crisp and the toppings tainted by well-meaning Midwesterners who were doing their best in a time and place where tomatoes came in cans most of the year and pepperoni was a specialty, gourmet food.
But, man, those pies were heaven — or at least the memories are. I spent many a moony-eyed night stretching melted Mozzarella cheese from the fingers of that weekends’ teenaged beauty. The pies were piping hot, made to order and exotic manna to a kid who had grown up on a dairy farm.
Later, when I began to travel, I sampled the monstrously-sized, drooping, gooey New York slices. I maneuvered my way through two-inch thick Chicago pizzas — the fillings of which contained more than a week’s worth of groceries for a Third World family.
And along the way, I came to understand that the most memorable pizzas were not made legendary as much by the quality or style as they were by the place. The old “ambiance” factor did as much to flavor my pizza dreams as did the pie itself.
One of those places in Savannah is Vincenzo’s Pizzeria, a little strip center joint on White Bluff Road. About 20 seats inside, a pair of two-tops outside and plenty of charisma keeps me — and the regulars — coming back.
Regulars are what make up most of Jimmy’s customers. The former fine dining chef makes frequent passes through the dining room — calling almost everyone by name. One night, a customer came in to grab a to-go order — a special pie Jimmy had made with topping the customer had brought back from a road trip to a destination far more exotic than Savannah.
Want a label? OK, let’s call it New York style. For me, though, the difference comes in the toppings. Jimmy’s Supreme pie boast big chunks of fresh, sweet Italian sausage, generously sliced pieces of pepperoni, strings of tender, sweet onion and fresh sliced mushrooms. The black olives have briny bite; the cheese adorns without masking the ingredients or the yeasty essence of Jimmy’s crust.
The marinara sauce, like the cheese, is part of the show, not the star. Unlike it’s commercial, chain store rivals, you can actually recognize the ingredients on this pizza — and you can taste the freshness.
The place is clean, the service is attentive and the eye to detail is superb. Yeah, it’s out of the way –away from the touristas downtown and the throngs that typically clog Southside eateries.
Bravo for Vincenzo’s, where everybody knows your name — and you know the pie will be a work of art.
Find ‘em on Facebook by clicking here. Jimmy posts special offers for his Facebook friends.