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An Ode to the Extremely Large Pizzeria Dining Room

A solid representation of New York-style at Brother’s Pizzeria in Garden Oaks.

Friday nights in the Malcolm house meant ordering a large cheese pie from Tony’s Pizzeria, which was a 20-second walk from our front stoop. To honor pizza in all its glory, welcome to Pizza Friday! here at Gastronaut. We’ll celebrate a different Houston pizzeria each week, rating its basic cheese slice on the pizzaaaaa! scale (the more As the better).

This week: Brother’s Pizzeria

The pizzeria that seems far too large for its operations is a comfortable tradition on the East Coast. The story goes like this: You open the door and are handed a backpack and hiking poles. After eight miles, you begin to faintly smell crust bubbling in the scolding oven. You turn a corner. You’re still three miles from the counter. You finally arrive, gasping and sweating, and you place your order: two large pies. You’re told to wait 15 minutes, which means hiking three miles back to the tables, which are approximately a mile apart from one another. It’s exhausting.

Brother’s Pizzeria in Garden Oaks, which has been around since 1980, is a pizzeria that seems far too large for its operations. And that’s the most New York thing about the pizzeria, even though it’s outfitted with $40 Target-sourced wall art of New York City landmarks, and even though the cashier’s T-shirt brandishes a New York license plate, and even though the place has “New York-style pizza.”

I visited Brother’s with my nearly 2-year-old daughter, whose favorite word is now “pizza” and even has a song for it (it goes “Pizzaaaa, pizzaaaa, pizza!”). We trekked to the counter and ordered our slices, and it all felt very familiar: the small soda cups; the TVs on either side of the dining room, randomly opposing each other; the pack of police officers ordering what seemed to be a three-course meal.

That might have been the reason we didn’t get our slices for 20 minutes. The chef apologized, saying he thought he was reserving slices for the cops, but I figured he was too focused on completing the officers’ large order. He did throw in a small bag of Lay’s original chips as a mea culpa, presenting them to my daughter like it was the greatest surprise ever. She was nonplussed. (Note: She’s nonplussed at everything.)

I don’t care about snafus like that, long as they don’t happen repeatedly. What I care about is the pizza, and it was good. They were wider slices, a la Star Pizza, but with the right consistency of sauce and cheese. I imagine if I started managing a Little League baseball team, I’ll want to bring everyone here to fit into the spacious dining room. I’ll just have to remember the hiking poles.

Slice rating: pizzaaa!

An above-average slice of New York. It’s more wide than tall, but it’s not a small slice by any means. Two will fill you up. The crust could’ve stayed in the oven another 30 seconds (maybe they were rushing it out because I had waited so long), but I did enjoy the balance of cheese and sauce. A good place to bring the group.

Want to recommend a pizza place to Timothy? Send him an email at tmalcolm@houstoniamag.com.











Timothy Malcolm
Timothy Malcolm
After spending his life in Philadelphia, Boston, and New York City, Timothy Malcolm left the East Coast in July 2018 to become the dining editor of Houstonia. He brings with him a wife, daughter, and a pair of hiking poles that are collecting dust in a closet inside his Heights bungalow. Along with writing about food and drink for Houstonia, and eating and drinking his way through the city, Timothy is the author of an upcoming travel guide titled Appalachian Trail Road Trip. His work has also appeared in Backpacker, October, Paste, and publications across the New York metropolitan area. Now that he’s not hiking mountains, Timothy collects yacht rock records, visits ballparks, and trusts the process of his beloved 76ers.