TulaneLSU's review of The Gypsy Poet in Houston

Friends,

Houston is many things: concrete, big, diverse, and hot. It has renowned Mexican, Tex-Mex, Chinese, and BBQ foods. It has one of the last three remaining Pancho’s Mexican Buffets. But it has never been considered a pizza city. Before tonight, I had never had pizza in this city of seven million.

Thanks to a tip from some friends I met during my grocery tour throughout Houston yesterday, I walked my way to the Midtown area, just south of downtown. Both areas have a deserted feeling.

“The Gypsy Poet is the best pizza in Houston,” one friend raved. Another friend interjected, “No, it’s the best pizza in Texas.” I had high expectations for this place that lacks any signage, except for a little painted board on the side of a wall not visible to the street. Its outdoor seating area blends into the landscape, and if you were not looking to find The Gypsy Poet, you probably would not.





Outside, there are two square tables with chairs with backs, each for four. There are also two picnic tables with umbrellas. Six normal BMI customers could sit at each picnic table. Along the front, there are individual seats and a zig-zag steel mesh painted red creates a partition against the street. The shape and color of that mesh reminded me of the iconic outdoor tables at L&B Spumoni Gardens in the southern reaches of Brooklyn. There are also a couple of elevated tables with stools as well, allowing for around 35 to sit outside.

The restaurant uses ample plywood for decor and minimalist art installations. It is a good thing the pizzeria opened in 2019, not 2021 when plywood prices shot through the roof. There are two doors, one on the north end of the building and one on the south. The entrance is on the north side, next to a wood stand holding an assortment of woods that look like they were picked up from local fallen trees. Live oak looked like the most common wood there, although I am not expert on wood identification.





Although even on Sunday nights there is a line, it moves relatively swiftly because most who eat here appear to be between 25 and 40 years old. Indoors is well air-conditioned and loud. This night a jazz band was blaring to the point I could not take it. Do people not care about the tiny hairs in their cochlea? Those hairs bend when they are damaged by loud noises, and can take days to recover to an upright position, not to mention repeated loud noise will atrophy the hair cells and also cause damage to the auditory nerve, both leading to permanent hearing change. I tried explaining this to several employees, but it was so loud, I do not think they heard me.



The oven is a spectacular Forza Forni with a stunning white base stucco finish coat. I asked if I could rub the finish, but the all lady pizzaiola crew said no. But they were happy to talk to me about their dough program, which is among the best I know outside the NJ-NY-CT pizza capital. The Venezuelan wife-husband owner team includes Vanessa Fernandez who completed her professional baking training in Caracas.







The kitchen is very small, with the pizza making station between the single oven and the dining area. Free tap water is available next to the station. The pizzaiolas are quite friendly and happy to chat with interested customers, of which I definitely was one.





The menu is a delightful reprieve from the massive menus at many of the restaurants I have visited in Houston. At just 12 items, with eight pizzas, two salads, and two desserts, I did not feel like I was having to read through a poorly worded Tolstoy novel. Aware that some of my eating habits may border on gluttonous, I chose only to try three of the 13” pizzas tonight: the Margherita, the pepperoni, and the prosciutto with arugula. Each has a trendy name, but pizza names are better when they describe the pizza. Now I know that the Margherita is not descriptive, but at this point the name is part of our vernacular. To change its name to mootz pizza would be like changing Parkinson’s disease to some vague motor neuron disease name. The change simply is not needed.

The Margherita was my least favorite pie, which is surprising because I usually either get Margherita or a plain pie. It used a very paltry amount of mootz. The sauce was tangy, but a bit short in amount. The crust, as already mentioned, was exceptional. The crust really does hold up well and I get a sense of French influence with it. In some ways, it reminded me of the dough at the world acclaimed Razza in Jersey City. It was adorned on the serving tray with slices of Parm, red pepper flakes, and large fresh basil leaves.

7.5/10





The next pizza was the pepperoni, which uses big pepperonis. The delightful chap who was running pizzas out suggested I try some Mike’s Hot Honey with it. I did,but I preferred it without the honey. I thought the basil and Parm flakes really elevated this pizza. Again, I thought the sauce was just average and the cheese the same. The dough, again, was exceptional.

7.9/10



My final pizza was the prosciutto with arugula. What a delightful and tasty combo these toppings made. The arugula I believe had a little bit of dressing or oil on it, and this helped to cover up for the lack of sauce. The dough, being so great, would benefit, perhaps by splashing a little olive oil on top at the end, just as Dom did at DiFara. The prosciutto went straight from cold to the finished pizza. I very much dislike when pizzerias put the prosciutto on before cooking the pizza, causing the pork to crisp and the grease to spread all over the pizza. So well done, GP, for being patient on adding the prosciutto. Again, this pizza was exceptional due to the dough, among the best doughs I have had in the South. Not a bit of any of the three pizzas, and especially their cornicione, was left behind.

8.1/10







The Gypsy Poet is not alone going to put Houston on the pizza map, but it is a good start. And hopefully just that – the start of bringing Houston into the pizza world.

Yours,
TulaneLSU