Austin B.
Yelp
tl;dr don't shy away from this historic pizzeria's off-the-wall Mustard Pie but stick with standard topping offerings rather than the more-gimmicky ones
For the uninitiated, the "Trenton tomato pie" refers to a circular, thin-crust pizza with tomato sauce dolloped above the cheese and other toppings. The historic Papa's Tomato Pies has been slinging this regional delicacy since 1912, making it the second-oldest pizzeria in the country (behind only NYC's Lombardi's). Today, Papa's serves an extensive menu of fast-casual Italian-American eats highlighted by their signature Mustard Pie -- which sports a thin layer of spicy brown between the crust and cheese.
Papa's has dinner-time parking aplenty in a strip mall otherwise occupied by a realtor and a nail salon. The wood-and-brick shack proudly displays its status as the oldest tomato pie restaurant in the country. The L-shaped dining room is warmly lit, sepia toned, and gaudily decorated. Retro stained-glass lamps hang from the low, dilapidated ceilings; worn, pink vinyl tablecloths cover the many 4-seater tables; and laminated plastic booths hug the walls. The off-white walls are decked sparsely with black-and-white photographs and a single plasma screen. Sixties tunes hum unobtrusively from speakers in each corner.
Our party arrived at 5PM for early weekend dinner and our pick of the countless vacant tables, but Papa's quickly began to fill up. Service throughout the meal was friendly and appropriately attentive. We opted for a Sweet and Savory Salad and 2 pies: a Large 16" Plain (with 1/2 pepperoni and 1/2 sausage) and a Large Mustard (with 1/2 meatballs and 1/2 pork roll). The bleu cheese-centric salad was quickly brought out, and it split 4 ways into small-to-moderate portions. Although it gave us something to nibble on while awaiting our main course, the greens were light on the toppings and otherwise forgettable.
The first pizza arrived about 20 minutes after ordering, while the other lagged another 5 minutes. The thin crust was sturdy and as crisp as a cracker -- while I preferred it to the classic floppy crust, my partner was not a fan. Further, our waitress generously obliged our request for 2 sides of the rich and tangy gravy to dip the cornicione. Gooey cheese was spread neatly across the crust, and the mustard rendition was surprisingly approachable, offering an unoffensive essence of spicy brown that complemented the other pizza flavors more than I was expecting. Conversely, other toppings were haphazardly strewn across each pie, such that some slices were heavily loaded while others were curiously bare. The sausage chunks were far and away the superior of the 4; meanwhile, the pepperoni slices were inoffensively neutral, the meatball pieces were subdued in flavor and mushy in texture, and the pork roll gave off deli sandwich-esque vibes. Finally, the lauded tomato sauce, caked atop everything else, conferred a tangy, tomato-forward flavor to most bites.
Papa's large pies (equivalent in size to Domino's XL) each ran about $20 -- a fair price considering that, when freshly piping hot, the sausage slices could hang with top-tier (and far pricier) NYC pizzerias. Notably, while the mustard pie was not earth-shatteringly superior to Papa's plain pizza, it was an enjoyable and novel take on the classic tomato pie.