Echo Park’s Pizza Buona: The only pies I ravenously eat

Pizza Buona (5/5) I need to preface this review with the following: I’m not a fan of pizza. I mean, I really, really have to be in the mood to eat it. That is, until I met a short, round and saucy pie named Pizza Buona in Echo Park.

That unassuming storefront hides a world of yummy

Thinking about it right now and my mouth’s actually watering. It’s that kind of psychosomatic reaction that few restaurants illicit from me. Their pies are the perfect storm of perfect dough, sauce, cheese and fire. First, let’s talk crust. It’s on the thinner side, crispy yet surprisingly squishy and doughy. It’s the kind of dough that made a pact with the devil because it achieves a quality I’ve never experienced on another pizza: chewiness.

My personal fave, pepperoni and sausage

The sauce is just tangy enough while bursting with flavor. No anonymous red goop here. Then there’s the cheese. This is no government cheese–this is the stuff of legend. It’s the kind of cheese that’s super flavorful, melted and stringy to the point of needing scissors, but held together by a crispy shell. Think of the best French onion soup you’ve had. You know that delightfully delicious cheesy crust there never seems to be enough of? Imagine that slathered all over this and you’ll get the idea.

Yes, looks innocent enough, but this sandwich will leave you gobsmacked

Ironically, I only discovered the pizza one day after deciding to expand my palate and order something else to go with my prosciutto sandwich — which honestly, needs its own dedicated Yelp review.

This sandwich is my carb crack. These subs are handcrafted mounds of loveliness. No $5 footlongs here, because frankly, this sandwich is light years from Subway junk. Instead, you’ll be treated to freshly baked crispy/squishy/chewy bread (the same dough used for the pizza) and mounds of house-cured prosciutto. And don’t worry, the sound of Heaven’s harp strumming when you take that first bite is totally, totally normal.

Pizza Buona, 2100 W. Sunset Blvd., Los Angeles, 90026, (213) 413-0800