I'd love to tell you that back east is this uniform wonderland of corner pizza shops that all date…read moreback to the early 20th Century and all exist within walking distance of people's homes. But I can't sit here and pretend the last 60 years or so didn't exist.
When New York, New Jersey and Connecticut followed their personal Robert Moses out of the cities and into the suburbs, the pizza shops came with them. To this day, in places like Central Jersey, Western Long Island and Central Connecticut, you'll find decent to spectacular pizza shops deposited in the middle of strip-mall hell within a tight delivery radius of acres and acres of tract housing.
In Portland's western suburbs--especially the named communities like Tanasbourne, Greenway, Amberglen, and Progress--this was typically the domain of chains like Schmizza, Fultano's, Bellagio's, Odd Moe's and their national competitors.
This, for years, kept me and the family away from Society Pie. Located a couple of blocks from our doctors' offices and hospital, Society Pie is tucked away in the middle of Tanasbourne's own strip mall netherworld and ringed by Elmer's, Peet's, Whole Foods, Trader Joe's, Killer Burger, Menchie's, P.F. Chang's, Wendy's, and Pizza Hut.
We knew that Oregon's suburban strip malls hadn't cultivated promising pizza in our more than a decade here, and we didn't see any reason to believe they were about to start now. But an acquaintance told us to try it once, and made a convincing argument.
She pointed to its neighbors at Prime Tap House and Biryani Corner and noted that not only were they producing some of the most interesting menus in the area, but they were succeeding where everyone else had failed. Biryani corner had outlasted at least three other biryani spots in Hillsboro alone, while Prime Tap House's fusion taproom menu proved so popular that it's now in the food court at the Ritz-Carlton.
Begrudgingly, we went into Society Pie for lunch and found... slices. Yes, any Schmizza here will give you slices, but it is only recently that Portland independents beyond chains like Sizzle Pie and Hotlips would deign to make some slice pies for the lunch rush. Society Pie clearly knew its audience as well, building drink and salad combos around its slices.
We arrived late in the day, so slices were held to plain and pepperoni. No problem. We asked for a slice each and varied the drinks: Some just sodas, me a pilsner.
I'll say this now: Getting out of a pizza shop here with a beer and a slice for $9 is a small miracle. Back east, a war crime, but here it's a genuine deal. The $6 for a slice and soda is similarly shocking, even considering the pre-pandemic $5 specials of that kind. And Society Pie's menu is loaded with that kind of local math.
As for the slice itself? I can see where the five-star people are coming from, but it's honestly the one place where I'm subtracting anything. The crust is REALLY close, but doesn't quite hold up at the edge. The sauce is just a touch sweeter than comparable places, and the cheese has less consistency than it should. That said, they're the first place I've seen offer classic pepperoni as a default instead of falling into Hormel's cup trap or following Schmizza into the strange world of salami-sized cuts.
Is it the best pizza I've ever had? No. Is it the best pizza in the Portland metro? No. Is it the best pizza in Hillsboro? No, but not by a high bar.
And that latter bar is what matters here. The owners make it very clear that they genuinely care about the community element of owning a pizza shop, and it's something that the absolute best neighborhood pizza shops both back east and here do incredibly well. Can you call yourself a "neighborhood" place if the neighborhood doesn't come in? Can you say you're connected to the community if they don't see themselves in your space? Does it kill you to turn on a college softball game or a random regional sports event if it helps people feel at home for a minute?
Even in a place as outwardly sterile as Tanasbourne (and now Washington Square... -ish), Society Pie serves as a place where people can actually use a pizza place as a neighborhood pizza shop, have full conversations on their lunch hour, take dinners home, or plot out their order for pizza parties. Its menu doesn't expand beyond pizzas, dough-based items (knots and breadsticks) and salads, and the menu offerings (shaved parm? pineapple jalapeno? chicken alfredo?) make the build-your-own option incredibly welcome, but it meets a need.
Your neighborhood pizza shop doesn't have to be the best pizza you've ever had in your life. It just needs to be affordable, reliably decent, and consistent. Society Pie fills that niche for the communities it's in, and they're better off for having it.
It won't be our spot of choice (just a few miles too far), but we'll be back.
