At Joe’s, love is spelled P-I-Z-Z-A

Joe’s Pizza and Pasta
9120 Airport Blvd., Suite L
Mobile, AL 36608
251-586-8855

Nothing says “love” like pizza, am I right? That sounds a bit ridiculous reading it aloud, but I know some of you embrace the idea of pizza in all its forms. I am not necessarily one of those people, but even I can be swayed from time to time. Yes, pizza is amazing when it’s done right, and good when it’s done wrong, so when someone mentions the former, it’s best you listen closely. Here’s to me listening.

I had hopes of taking my wife to a pre-Valentine’s dinner, someplace candlelit and romantic, with bottles of wine and velvety chocolate for dessert, but due to lack of child care and a raging pandemic, pizza would have to do. It only took a glance at Joe’s Pizza and Pasta’s online menu for me to get excited about it.

I’d been avoiding heavy carbs, eating a lot of fish and veggies, but it was easy to push them aside when I saw the list of toppings. The 27 choices looked like a lot of options, but everything on there sounded logical. Nothing was exotic. I couldn’t think of one thing that could be trimmed and wondered how so many other places get by with so few.

This is a takeout place far away near Baker High. I’d called ahead. No beer. No real seating to speak of. It would be a brisk half-hour drive each way, so I was counting on this place being as good as I’d heard. Now, when I say the smallest pizza they have is 18 inches, that doesn’t sound that big, but it is huge. The largest is 28 inches. The shock from the size of the box had me second-guessing if they were measuring the radius or the diameter. I filled my trunk with two of the smallest and a handful of other items and went home to chow down.

Katie chose the first pizza. The 18-inch ($13.99) gets you a cheese pizza with toppings an additional $1 each. She masterfully crafted her ridiculous pie with artichokes, spinach, garlic, feta, sun-dried tomatoes and basil. I guess I like a girl who really knows what she wants. When we opened this wagon wheel of a pizza, we had already been warned they had run out of basil. The sun-dried tomatoes appeared to be regular tomatoes, but the pizza was great. Each piece is cut large. You need it to be. This thin-crust, New York nod is best folded and eaten pinkies out.

I was able to get my favorite pizza of my childhood. I remember the first time I had it. Our neighbor Bobby Gaskin and his wife, Jenny, handed me a piece and I was hooked. Joe had those simple ingredients. Italian sausage, green olives and white onions have me describing this one as dreamy. There is something to the green olive/Italian sausage combination that really outdoes the black olives. It’s a different kind of saltiness, a different depth of flavor — perhaps tangy is the word. I love this pizza.

It wasn’t just the pizzas that brought us to Joe’s. It clearly says “pasta” right there in the name. We have growing boys, so we have to try multiple sections of the menu. Pasticho ($6.99) is a bit like lasagna, with layers of noodles, sliced ham and an Italian sausage meat sauce, all topped with mozzarella and baked. This was an exceptional entree under 10 bucks. The tender noodles held together well on the fork, and the ham snuck through in almost every bite. It makes me want to put sliced ham in my lasagna now.

Those who know me would already be surprised I didn’t have a pizza with meatballs. I was saving them for the pasta. Spaghetti and meatballs ($6.99) was simple. It shouldn’t be a fuss. The tomato sauce had flavor, the noodles were cooked perfectly, a little softer than al dente, and the meatballs were heavenly. Remember, I’m serving this from a tin foil takeout pan with crimped edges. This doesn’t look like much, but it came across as a fancy dish for spaghetti. It tasted homemade, or better than homemade (depending on your home).

Then came the desserts. We started with cannoli ($4). It was a good start. The creaminess versus the crunch is always the main factor with this dessert, and Joe’s had it just right. A generous dusting of powdered sugar made this single piece a Lady-and-the-Trampable end to our meal, which could have been our favorite bite.

That is until we had the Limoncello ($4).

Whoever it is making this stuff deserves an award. This layered, bouncy cake is a true pleasure, and though I felt a little guilty, I was sharing it with Katie. Then she screwed up. She let our toddler, Henry, have a bite. Why?!?!

Here’s some unsolicited parenting advice: When a kid, only 2, is happily eating a homemade cookie and you are enjoying something you already aren’t stoked about sharing, DO NOT give the little one some of the good stuff. It ended with me wrestling the fork from his hands and making up lies about how any more could “make you sick.” You know, “This is not for children. Mommy shouldn’t have let you have it.” That old routine.

Whether Joe’s outsources their desserts or makes them in-house is undetermined. They were great, either way.

It was no candlelit dinner — there was no wine nor soft music in the background. Not a thing on the table could be considered healthy. But there was cheese. There was sauce. There were carbs. There were sweets, all prepared expertly. And there was family, with stained shirts and powdered sugar on the walls, sharing. Maybe I was right. Nothing says “love” like pizza.

Happy Valentine’s Day.