Week 4: Red Savoy's

Under normal circumstances, going out for pizza is the highlight of the social calendar in our household. 

Between our jobs, my never-ending quest to be less fat (aka gym-related penance), and all of the stupid adult obligations to things like taking the dog to the vet, making sure we don’t run out of toilet paper, and a commitment to not having our house featured on an upcoming episode of Hoarders , we’re not exactly painting the town red.  (Unless multiple trips to SuperTarget, fueled by a pathological fear of running out of toilet paper suddenly earns us cool points, that is.)  Hence, our commitment to 52 weeks of pizza consumption didn’t exactly overburden our schedules – which, because we are nothing if not organized, we manage in Google calendar.  If it ain’t in the Google calendar, it ain’t happenin’, folks.  Our fourth consecutive week of pizza consumption was a deviation from the standard middle-aged calendar.  Week 4 happened to coincide with the ninth anniversary of my 31^st birthday and both planned and some unplanned (surprise) celebratory activities and therefore, we didn’t make our weekly pizza pilgrimage until Sunday evening.

Our fourth week was a return to the scene of the crime, as we ventured 20 miles to the east and visited the very same pizzeria where we had our first date, almost two years ago to the day!  Red Savoy is infamous amongst true pizza connoisseurs, and while they have franchise locations across the Great Plains in Minnesota, Nebraska, and Wisconsin, we chose to dine at the original 7^th Street location in St. Paul, which is apparently, “where it all started in 1965.”  We waxed nostalgic about our first date, back when we groomed ourselves, cared about how we smell, and when good manners prevailed.  Since pizza night nearly coincided with the two year anniversary of our first date, we were giddily excited to visit Red Savoy and this excitement was reflected in our pre-pizza moods.  But – it was Sunday night and so the dread of the impending work week was also lurking in the background.

Pre-pizza mood Ratings:

Princess D: 7

Hubby: 7

Parking Situation:  

Red Savoy is conveniently located at the top (or bottom, depending on your point of view) of a freeway ramp and they thoughtfully provide off-street parking.  Unfortunately, the lot is small, the parking spots are tightly packed, and it features a mix of regular and parallel parking spots.  The very act of pulling into the parking lot caused me to break out into hives.  At every turn, I spotted parking hazards – people, places, and things that I might smash, crash, or otherwise damage.  I clamped a hand over my eyes, sweated profusely, and waited for the car to stop.  I will never, ever drive myself to Red Savoy because I cannot afford the increase to my insurance premiums.  Even my hubby, who thinks he is a pretty damn good parker, mentioned that he finds the parking lot at Savoy’s to be “sucktastic”. 

Exterior Appearance:  Red Savoy’s has anchored this corner of East 7^th Street in St. Paul for almost 50 years, and the years have not been kind.  It looks like the kind of establishment you’d find anchoring a freeway on or off-ramp, and the exterior is there for function, not fashion.  It’s square, it’s squat, and it keeps the rain and snow off the pizza.  If you’re looking for something more than that . . . you’re in the wrong place. 

Entrance/Welcome:  

After you finish navigating the Atari Pole Position style parking lot, you’ll wander around the square building until you find a door.  This is common since doors are the primary mode of entrance and exit in modern day buildings.  Upon entering, you may suffer temporary blindness, as you walk down a cavernous and very, very, very dark hallway that spits you out into the bar area of Red Savoy, which is even darker than the cavernous hallway if that’s possible.  As your eyes slowly adjust, you’ll blink slowly and stand foolishly until someone – possibly a vampire, although I can’t be sure – addresses you and seats you.  I was trying so hard not to walk into something or trip that I can’t accurately assess the warmness of the welcome, but I can tell you that we were seated awfully quickly, so I can’t find fault with that. 

Interior Appearance:  Red Savoy is about the food, not about the ambience.  The interior of the restaurant is so dimly lit that I wondered if they cater primarily to vampires and the undead.  I didn’t have any garlic on my person and there are no mirrors decorating the walls here, so I cannot confirm or deny this rumor.  My seat was conveniently facing the door, so I enjoyed watching patrons stumble into the restaurant and I watched more than a few patrons stumble out of the joint after enjoying a few adult beverages.  If you’ve ever been inside an Elks Lodge, Knights of Columbus building, or even a VFW, you’re familiar with the interior decorating scheme of Red Savoy.  It’s dark, it’s faux-wood paneled, and it’s functional.  What I didn’t expect was the flat screen TVs, whose displays alternated between a live MLB baseball game and live video surveillance from the parking lot.  Who doesn’t want to keep an eye on their car while they eat pizza, after all?

Clientele and Overall Vibe:  

The people-watching doesn’t get better than this.  First off, Savoy’s does a brisk takeout business.  Pizza boxes were moving out the front door like cars on a freeway.  We were there on a Sunday evening, and we were joined by families with small kids, including an alarming number of babies in car seats; couples on dates; old marrieds like us; and hardcore drinkers who have their own bar stools.  Savoy’s is a place where you’re welcome to come as you are.  If you want to dress up, go ahead – but you’ll be just as welcomed in your Zubaz and baseball cap as you are in your Sunday finest.  We played it safe and wore jeans and t-shirts, since we like to save our Zubaz for special occasions.  There’s a buzz in the air here – it could be a contact high from the aroma of alcohol fumes, but I prefer to think it’s the anticipation of eating a really good pizza.

Wait staff: Our server was delightful.  We were seated at table 53, which was in the middle of the joint and we were surrounded by other patrons on all sides.  She frequently had to sidle up to us to take our order and as a result, we didn’t really establish much rapport, but she was efficient and friendly. 

Menu Selection:  Savoy’s featured a Sunday menu the day we visited, but to be honest, it doesn’t look all that different than the menu they feature the other six days of the week.  This is a pizza joint, but should you be in the mood for something else, you can order other bar fare such as burgers or sandwiches here too.  True to form, we ordered something called “the special” which featured sausage, pepperoni, onion, green pepper, green olives, and mushrooms.  Red Savoy also has a full bar with plenty of beers on tap and the hard stuff for those who want something a little stronger.  I may have had one or two beers myself. 

Food Wait Time:  

Total time elapsed from ordering the pizza to its arrival was 34 minutes.  Had we been starving or had I not been so entertained watching people stumble through the door, this might have annoyed me. 

Drumroll, please . . . the pizza itself:   

This is definitely a memorable pizza.  It’s served on a plastic cafeteria tray, because at Savoy’s, it’s about the pizza, not the frills.  Our 14 inch, thin crust pizza was cut into squares.  The crust was crispy and the toppings were plentiful.  There’s no skimping on toppings here, and there is an appropriate amount of sauce.  The so-called “Savoy sausage” has a nice bite to it that might have you reaching for the Rolaids later.  The pizza’s edges were a little well-done (aka burned) and the pizza was a little too cheesy for my preference, but the hubby was in heaven.  (I hate when the cheese takes on a life of its own and tries to strangle me in my throat.)  If you like your pizza cheesy, greasy, and homemade, you won’t be disappointed.  There is something about eating at Savoy’s that reminds me of those hole in the wall, meat raffle and pull-tab bars you’ll find in Northern Minnesota when you go “up to the cabin.” 

Price & Value:  

A pizza large enough for leftovers (for the one of us who is not the author of this blog); iced tea with one free refill (weird, I know), and two tap beers totaled $28 plus tip, which after four weeks of experience paying for pizza, seems to mean that Savoy’s is price competitive. 

Waiting for the Check:  

Our server kept a close watch on us, and when it became clear that we were stuffed to the gills, she magically appeared with a box and the bill.  Like the entire Red Savoy experience, paying was no frills and efficient.

Post-Pizza Mood:

 We came, we talked about our first date, we ate pizza, we laughed.  We pretended we were vampires.  And we left Red Savoy’s at a mood of 9, which is as close to perfect as you can get on a Sunday night in St. Paul. 

Bottom Line:  

You don’t go to Red Savoy’s for the ambience – you go for the pizza, which is pretty darned good.  We go for the pizza and to relive the magic of our first date.  We’ll be back, same time next year.