Vedran Jukic
Google
Let’s get something clear right away: Rail Trail Flatbread does not serve pizza.
Coming from Italy (by way of the Istrian peninsula - yes, the land of truffles, seafood, and nonne who’ll slap your hand for putting ketchup on anything), I can assure you that this is not pizza.
But here’s the twist:
Whatever this is… it’s insanely good.
And not in a "let’s respect the tradition" way.
No. This is full-throttle, unapologetic, all-American flavor chaos - and I loved every bite.
I tried the Mac Flatbread. Imagine beef meatballs, shredded like they came out of a slow cooker after an 8-hour therapy session, sitting on a warm, chewy base, drizzled in creamy American cheese, plus sour pickles for that "wait, what?!" moment. Somewhere in there, processed cheese joins the party, and lettuce, and fresh chopped onion. Honestly, it shouldn’t work. But it slaps.
And then… there was the pineapple flatbread (the other half).
Yes, the Balkan-Italian inside me cried a little. But the budget-conscious, late-night-snack version of me said:
"Hey, at least it includes dessert."
Pineapple on a flatbread? Bold. Disrespectful. Weirdly satisfying.
I wouldn’t serve it to my grandmother, but I’d 100% eat it again in the parking lot before she finds out.
This place doesn’t care about rules. It’s like pizza took a road trip across America and started dating nachos.
And you know what?
Good for them. Good for me.