Downtown Dining: Humble Pie

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Photos by Evie Carpenter and Domenico Nicosia
Location and Hours:
2333 N. Seventh St.
Phoenix, AZ 85006
602-229-1289

Monday to Saturday | 11 a.m. to 10 p.m.
Sunday | 11 a.m. to 9 p.m.


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Humble Pie stands up to its motto, “A delicious experience.”

The ingredients are shipped in fresh daily, according to my waitress, and Humble Pie’s chefs come to work several hours early to prepare food before opening time.

One such item prepped each day prior to unlocking its doors: pizza crust.

The wood-fired crust comes out a little burnt, but only in the slightest amount. It does not feel artificial, like a generic menu item pulled from a freezer and sent through a conveyer belt oven. The crisp imperfection lends itself to the authenticity of the meal.

Yet somehow, the pizza at Humble Pie was unremarkable.

Food: 25/30

S.O.P. Pizza:

The pizza was certainly put together well. The cheese adhered well to the crust and sauce, unlike lower grade pizzas where the cheese in its entirety slides off with the first bite like the sheet off of a bed.

While the edge of the crust was crunchy and firm, maybe even a little chewy, the crust supporting the toppings was thin and felt inadequate. It was not flimsy or frail, but a substantial crust feels awkwardly absent.

The $14.50 S.O.P. pizza’s toppings – caramelized onions, Schreiner’s sausage and red peppers – were in balance with each other and with the other elements of the pizza. But Humble Pie’s pizza does not stand out when it comes to the sensory experience of taste.

The sandwich, soup and salad more than make up for the pizza’s shortcomings though.

Grilled Caprese Sandwich:

The caprese sandwich, built between a pair of expertly toasted sourdough slices, is based around creamy mozzarella – which was neither too hot to ingest nor too cold to be sub-optimally smooth – and grape tomatoes.

The pesto packs almost too much flavor and risks overpowering the other elements of the sandwich – but the ingredients transform through a kind of osmosis. The tomato injects a bit of its bite to the mozzarella, which in turn mellows out the red fruit’s aggression. Balsamic vinaigrette augments the flavor and softens the texture of the sourdough.

Each pesto-filled bite floods the mouth with a distinct, unmistakably Italian flavor. The result is a crunchy, creamy sandwich that is both sharp and mellow simultaneously. Though $9.95, it is worth every penny.

Creamy Butternut Squash Soup:

A waitress’s recommendation, Humble Pie’s creamy butternut squash soup, available in a $3.95 cup or $5.95 bowl, tasted so much like pumpkin it would be appropriate beside the turkey during Thanksgiving Day festivities. The bisque-like soup added a sweet bright tone to a meal otherwise dominated by the mellowness of mozzarella, the bite of roasted tomatoes and the boldness of pesto. The soup’s temperature upon serving was appropriate for immediate consumption but an extra moment on the burner would have been welcome.

Chopped Salad:

By far the most memorable item I experienced was the chopped salad. It was not the best part of the meal, nor was it remarkably delicious or filling. But the chopped salad’s character set it apart from the ever-so-common lettuce and ranch salad experience.

Bite-sized pieces of turkey and salami mingle with chopped mozzarella cheese (which here has a firm, tofu-like texture rather than a creamy one) in a light herb vinaigrette. The greens take the flavor of the vinaigrette well but also serve to add a startling, almost ballsy amount of bitterness to the salad. Like a cup of espresso with morning egg sandwiches or a winter-brew beer with a hearty steak, the bitterness enhances adjacent flavors making for a palate-pleasing plate.

Lunch and dinner menus are identical with a specially discounted menu for happy hour. Express lunch, a deal I highly recommend, gives diners the option of soup or half a salad with a 9 inch pizza or half sandwich of their choice for $9.95 and $8.95, respectively. You won’t be stuffed, but for less than $10, it’s impossible to go wrong.

A copious selection of wine and spirits is available for those of imbibing age.

Service: 30/30

There was nothing to complain about in regard to Humble Pie’s service. The waitress was very helpful with suggestions and seemed knowledgeable about each dish. She was as attentive and friendly as one could hope.

Atmosphere: 25/30

It is defensible to say Humble Pie’s exterior is modest – maybe even conservative. There are a handful of tables outside on the patio, which at 1 p.m. were completely blanketed in shade. The building isn’t quite dark enough to be maroon and there are a few chips in the decorative brick pillars outside. The roads and parking lot are dilapidated.

The first step into Humble Pie is another story. A tall shelf with an impressive number of wine bottles stands tall against the back wall. You can see straight into the mouth of an open oven. The dining room’s dark wood furnishings are accented by light spilling in from the afternoon sun. The menu with “Humble Pie” stamped deeply into its dark leather-like cover houses a wide selection of salads, sandwiches, hamburgers, pastas and of course pizza.

Though Humble Pie does not give a great first impression, it is an example of the expression, ‘Don’t judge a book by its cover.”

Wildcard: 5/10

I would like to mention I find the name “Humble Pie” somewhat paradoxical. The use of the word ‘humble’ suggests they have something to be humble about, indicating they actually offer a remarkable dining experience. Therefore, they are not really humble at all. They are the opposite of humble, but this is so because they use the word humble. In effect, the restaurant’s name is a somewhat cocky, perhaps even a pretentious (though not uncreative) play on the meaning and implications of certain language used in a certain context.

That’s my humble opinion.

Final Score: 85/100

Contact the critic at cameron.robello@asu.edu