Pepperoni
A hoppy IPAPepperoni renders out a lot of fat and a fair amount of heat. Hop bitterness scrubs the fat off your palate between bites, so the last slice tastes like the first one did.

Tell Sal what you’re ordering, who’s at the table, or just what kind of night it is. You’ll get a drink that actually fits — not a list of everything we pour.

No account, no app, no waiting on a sommelier. Tell him what you’re eating and he’ll tell you what to drink — and why that one.
Ask him right here
Sal is an assistant, not a sommelier with a tasting note for every bottle. Pours vary by location; your server has the current list.
You don’t need an app to get these right. This is most of what we’d tell you at the table anyway.
Pepperoni renders out a lot of fat and a fair amount of heat. Hop bitterness scrubs the fat off your palate between bites, so the last slice tastes like the first one did.
A simple pie lives or dies on the tomato. You want acid to meet acid — a wine with some bite keeps the sauce bright instead of flattening it out.
No tomato means no acid on the plate, so the glass has to bring it. Something lean and cold cuts through the cream and cheese rather than piling richness on richness.
A touch of sweetness takes the edge off capsaicin. High alcohol does the opposite — it makes heat burn hotter, which is why a big red is the wrong move here.
Carbonation and cold are doing the work. You want something that resets your mouth and gets out of the way, not a beer that competes with the sauce.
Enough structure to stand next to a long-cooked sauce, enough acidity to keep a heavy bowl from turning into a nap.
Everything on the bar is better with something out of the oven next to it.