Nothing piques my interest in going out to eat like the launch of a new pizzeria. Judging by the crowd at Community Pie last Saturday night, I’m not the only one who feels this way. As my wife and I approached the newly opened restaurant, we saw a line out the door, and people occupying every seat along the windows, which were raised to afford a view of Market Street and Miller Plaza. The weather was pleasant, so we were happy to check in and watch people while we waited.
Only a few minutes had passed when our buzzer buzzed. After we stepped inside through the Miller Plaza door, the hostess started to show us to a window table. My 4’ 11” wife balked at the high seats, so we waited a little longer for a regular table.
The wait gave us an opportunity to take in the atmosphere. The large dining area was dimly lit, with most of the light coming from the sun, which was starting to dip behind the buildings of downtown Chattanooga, and was casting thick beams of golden light into the room. Other than a large bar that runs parallel with Market Street, tall wooden chairs and built-in tabletops lined the perimeter, and equally high tables and chairs took up a considerable amount of interior space. At the far end of the restaurant, comfortable looking booths outfitted with black cushions ran along the wall near the kitchen, in which two 900-degree wood fire ovens were cooking the evening’s pies. Painted across the red brick walls over the booths were faded advertising slogans that added to the ambience rather than detracted from it.
Everything was wood, brick, red, black, and dark. I liked it. The atmosphere at Community Pie strikes an elegant casual tone.
Once our table was ready, our hostess led us to our seats, dodging a constant stream of servers along the way. We soon learned that the service at Community Pie is very friendly and attentive. Despite the huge crowd, the young lady who waited on us nearly made us feel like we were her only table.
A quick glance at the menu was all I needed to see Community Pie is no ordinary pizza place. As a matter of fact, the selections are a declaration of war against ordinary pizza. Thankfully, the starters allowed me to postpone choosing a pie, although making a selection was still difficult. I debated between the Kobe Meatballs, Grown Up Fried Cheese, and Grilled Cheese Tomato Soup, and settled on the cheese.
If none of those get your mouthwatering, you can start your meal with toast. That might sound like breakfast, but when you put salami and scrambled eggs, or mushrooms and cream, or sausage and peppers on top of two pieces of toasted Niedlov’s bread, you have a scrumptious appetizer. I know because I devoured the Salami and Eggs Toast.
Trying selections from two different categories of starters was a tactical error, as I had curbed my appetite by the time our pizzas arrived.
Ah, the pizza. Let me backpedal a bit.
When I first looked at the selections, I didn’t know where to go. I had no frame of reference for what Duck Confit, Lamb Sausage, or Sweet Fig pizza would taste like. They sounded intriguing, though, and more gourmet than your typical pie. Consider, for example, how the menu describes the Duck Confit: “Slow-cooked duck leg, smoky turnip greens, potlikker reduction, oven dried tomatoes, fresh mozzarella, extra virgin olive oil, sea salt and egg.” If you like trying new and unique dishes, then Community Pie will appeal to your sense of adventure.
I prefer to stick with what I know, so I came close to ordering a Margherita, but then let the server talk me into trying a Chorizo, which comes topped with sweet sausage, jalapeño peppers, green peppers, mozzarella, and the potlikker reduction.
The pizzas are about the size of one dinner plate, which means I’m eating one by myself. But I can see a loving couple sharing one – and fighting over the last piece.
Two things impressed me about the pizza: the crust and the sauce, both of which Community Pie makes fresh daily using ingredients imported from Italy. My taste buds had to make a slight adjustment from Pie Slingers, but I was soon enjoying every bite. The limpness of the piecrust initially surprised me, but I followed my wife’s lead and folded my first piece before taking a bite. The sauce was robust but didn’t overwhelm the other ingredients.
We capped our meal with gelato imported from Milk & Honey across town. My wife tried the Chocolate and Banana, while I enjoyed the Peppermint.
As my wife and I walked back to our car, I thought about how Community Pie’s unique menu, imported ingredients, and methods of preparation allow it to stand out among many other similar restaurants in Chattanooga. Community Pie is not just another pizza place. And whether you’re daring or prefer to go with what you know, it’s worth a visit.
Email David Laprad at dlaprad@hamiltoncountyherald.com.