By Amy McCarthy
By Scott Reitz
By Scott Reitz
By Lauren Drewes Daniels
By Alice Laussade
By City of Ate
When I visited Pizza by Marco (serving Dallas since 1956, much like the Granny Hooker who almost ran me over trying to park in front of Celebrity Bakery next door. "My word! Is that Soupy Sales? I love Celeb Bakery 'cause ahm ollllld! And hookery!"), I was excited to find that they offer chorizo as a pizza topping. But a look at their menu reveals that nowhere on any of their specialty pizzas do they even once deploy the Mexicanized Sausage of Your Wet Dreams. What the eff, Marco? Don't you know that having chorizo available as a topping but not using it on any of your specialty pizzas is like having a secret stash of pharmaceutical-grade heroin in the pantry, and not using it on any of your specialty pizzas?
Luckily, the $5 special gets me an 8-inch pizza (technically, you get cheese and one topping, but it's only 25 cents more for each extra topping) and throws in a drink to boot. I ordered my pizza with chorizo, cilantro, jalapeños and tomatoes on a thin-but-not-too-thin crust. If I were you, Marco, I'd go ahead and scratch this up on your chalkboard menu. I called it the Whorizo. But you can call it the Bastardo Poco Costoso. Or the Eff You in the Armpit, Italian Sausage. Or the Oh, Look, We Have Chorizo, So Let's Fuckin' Use It Already. This is tasty stuff. A word about the drink, though. When the nice girl behind the counter asks if you'd like your Coke now or when your pizza arrives, it's because this Coke comes in a can and may lose most of its coldness by the time your food arrives, a key bit of info when you're taking down those jalapeños. So exercise some caffeine-restraint, and put off the soda until your pizza is ready.
14999 Preston Road
Dallas, TX 75254-9116
Region: North Dallas
Pizza by Marco 14999 Preston Road 972-392-4100
Specialty pizzas I wanted to try: 8 Minutes it took for my pizza to be prepared: 12
If there's a bad thing about Pizza by Marco, it's that the television happened to be tuned to the Food Network, which means that it happened to be tuned to Rachael Ray, which means that I happened to almost hurk up my whole Whorizo the first time I heard her yell, "Yummo!" Every time that man of a woman creates a catch phrase, a baby unicorn gets herpes of the eyehole. Am I the only one who finds it weird that she's marketed her own brand of dog food called 30-Minute Meals?