Toto's Pizzeria

Toto’s Pizzeria in San Bruno is one of my guilty pleasures. The decor is basic American diner. It doesn't have the faux-downscale atmosphere that one finds in new suburban restaurants. The floors have the scrubbed, worn linoleum that shows it's the real McCoy.

At Toto’s they prepare the pizza right in front of you. I usually order the extra garlic, which is spooned generously from a bottle over the entire surface of the dough. (I've learned not to order the garlic if I have a business meeting the next day.) The wait, including oven time, is about twenty minutes, during which we enjoy the crisp iceberg lettuce salad, a pitcher of soda, and watch the games on the old CRT sets mounted in the corner.

Toto’s has raised its prices to make them equivalent to the major chains. They’ve added sandwiches and spaghetti, even calling the latter “pasta” in a bow to modernity. But diners would never confuse them with upscale pizzerias that serve eclectic combinations or deep-dish fare. The selections are traditional and the pizza comes out a little too wet and gooey for contemporary upscale palates.

But I’ll keep returning until my cholesterol needle hits the red zone. © 2006 Stephen Yuen