PIZZA REVIEW: Talespin Pizza
Back in 2020 when I moved outside the Loop (sorry), the pizza landscape in West Houston left a lot to be desired. The only options anywhere close to my area were Domino's (which I LOVE, don't get me wrong, but it's nice to have variety), the rather mediocre Grimaldi's in CityCentre, and I guess Sbarro if you were insane enough to go inside Memorial City Mall during the height of the COVID pandemic. Since then, though, the outlook has markedly improved.
First came Zalat Pizza, a decent enough New Yorky-chain (though their "best takeout pizza in the universe" moniker may be a bit of hyperbole)... then Via313, the Austin import serving up both Detroit-style and Chicago tavern pizzas (which are both awesome)... and most recently Murray's, a slightly more upscale establishment that has been garnering a lot of hype. Sometime in 2024, however, Talespin quietly opened its doors, to no great fanfare. But a year later, something odd happened. Somehow they completely blew up on social media in 2025, leading to unprecedented weeks of selling out every single day. This, as you will soon discover, was 100% warranted, as the product here is heavenly.
The restaurant resides in a low-key, lesser-known strip mall along I-10 just west of Beltway 8, which you would certainly be forgiven for overlooking. The inside is tiny: in fact, there is literally zero interior seating, just a counter to order at and the kitchen behind. There are a couple of tables out front for those poor souls who aren't fortunate enough to live within take-out/delivery range making the pilgrimage from across town (trust me, it's worth it), or for fans of superlative infrastructure who wish to gaze upon what is allegedly the world's widest freeway. (FYI: there are plans to open a much larger location in Cinco Ranch, complete with an actual dining room and everything.)
Talespin describes their style as "NeoTexan", combining Neapolitan technique with local flavors and ingredients. However, the crust is a bit doughier than you'd expect with this pedigree, coming in closer to a 5 or 6 on my proprietary pizza crust thickness scale (not that I'm complaining!). There's a nice fluffy chewiness with bubbly, blistered edges, and the center just about holds up to the sometimes substantial amount of toppings. Speaking of toppings... while there are a few restrained, traditional selections available, the majority of the pizzas are much more inventive: elaborate creations that would make Franco Pepe, Fabrizio Romano, and the rest of Naples have a heart attack.
But I am so here for it! This is exceptionally high-caliber stuff, candidly rather shockingly so considering the unassuming premises. I guess gold is where you find it, as they say. I've tried at least ten different pizzas over the last year or so, including several that aren't included here because my first few visits were before Adrian Reviews was even born. I'm going to describe five vastly different ones, in order of increasing chaos.
Pepperoni: smoked tomato, mozzarella, parmesan, white cheddar, ricotta, cup & char pepperoni (you can sub halal pepperoni if you are still a big Free Palestine guy). Even a seemingly simple standard gets reimagined here, with two types of the spiced salami and four (4) cheeses that work together for melty, sumptuous goodness. Of course there is also the opportunity to customize, so add on some pickled jalapeños, expertly sliced paper-thin to prevent the overly vinegary taste that so often plagues this pepper. This is as close to "normal" as you're going to get here, but it still has their signature flair, and of course first-rate quality.
Caccio de Peppe: smoked onion bianco sauce, fresh mozzarella, parmesan (side note: if you aren't pronouncing this as "par-MEE-zee-en" in your head when you read it, you aren't watching enough Rick & Morty), roasted & crispy garlic, and black pepper. That's the base model, but clearly adding fennel-pork sausage and caramelized onion is a must. Only the second one on the list here, but we're already getting crazy. Indulgently creamy and rich like the classic pasta from which it takes its inspiration, this is not a 14-incher that you can just house in one sitting unless you are among the most gifted of individuals (I probably would have back in my prime, but this time I had leftovers for days). The sausage is a great way to cut through all that dairy, and the criminally underrated fennel provided a nice sweetness and touch of aromatics.
B2P2: oak-smoked brisket, candied bacon, roasted jalapeño popper cream cheese, cotija, caramelized onions, pickled jalapeños, scallions, toasted breadcrumbs, and "really good" ranch. I'm not sure who decided to replace pizza sauce with spicy cream cheese, but they might be a genius... it absolutely worked here, with the soft and tangy spread complementing the deliciously-cooked meats. The beef was smoky, the pork sweet, and the cheese salty; add in some texture from the breadcrumbs and you hit just about every note in the tasting textbook. This is one that I will definitely order again, if I ever make it all the way through all of their offerings.
Those all reside on the regular menu, but where Talespin truly shines are their bi-weekly features, remarkably creative concoctions that change... every two weeks. These maximalist masterpieces run the gamut when it comes to influences and ingredients; it's always an exciting moment when the email announcing the latest innovation arrives in my inbox. There are even occasional collaborations, such as the one in the next paragraph, a team-up with Houston's second most famous food influencer, Shawn Singh (alas, I am still waiting for my invitation to contribute to a pizza).
One For The Herd: tikka masala, tandoori chicken, fior de latte, burnt red onion jam, cilantro chutney (Schmidt from New Girl taught me to always pronounce this with three syllables, and yes, that's two different television linguistic references in one post, what of it?), and optional umami chili bomb. This wild crossover between Italy's greatest culinary invention and the unquestionable best Indian dish ever originating in Scotland did not disappoint. Tender poultry stewed in that creamy tomato curry we all know and love was the centerpiece, but the sweet jelly and fresh chutney provided layers of complexity, and the spicy condiment (mandatory, in my opinion) added an explosion of heat and flavor. This makes me rue the loss of downtown's Bombay Pizza Co., but to be honest, this is better than anything they ever did. Apparently there are now a couple of other Indian pizza restaurants in Katy and Cypress... I might have to go check them out.
Mac Attack: smoked gouda and beer mac & cheese, Texas Akashi beef jalapeño sausage, pickled jalapeños, garlic breadcrumbs, parmesan, and chives (you better believe that I chose to "dirty it up" with a swirl of buffalo and ranch). A truly spectacular pizza: substituting the normal mozzarella for everyone's favorite cheesy pasta was a brilliant move (like Cici's on crack), and the spicy sausage was extraordinary. I appreciated the effort to disguise things by throwing a little bit of green on there via the chives, but this certainly wasn't the healthiest thing I've ever consumed. It's fine though... soon there will be Ozempic in the water supply like fluoride (no offense to my Portland readers) and we'll be able to eat whatever we want all the time. I still dream about this pizza at night, and I pray that they bring it back for a second run one day. Freaking incredible.
Not every special is as appealing, though. There was no way I was ordering the Pastrami Ruben (pastrami, sauerkraut, sliced provolone, and Russian remoulade), which quite frankly sounds pretty gross. You can use your imagination as to how that tasted, as luckily it is long gone now.
There are also non-pizza choices on the menu (by the way, I've written "pizza" a lot already, and I was taught that a good writer tries not to re-use words multiple times in a piece... but you will never catch me calling it a "pie", as that is one of those pet peeves of diction that I abhor for some reason. Relatedly, I can't stand when people say "getting a slice", unless it's followed by "of pizza". And, less relevant but I'm going to include it anyway since you are a captive audience, perhaps my least favorite of all is when someone writes that a restaurant is "slinging" such and such food item. Gross. Please reach out if you would like to learn more about food terms that I hate), which can serve as a nice pairing to the main event. The Caesar salad is more than serviceable, and there are some pretty tasty dry-spiced boneless wings in a handful of different flavors. Tres Leches Tiramisu sounds interesting, but didn't quite live up to the concept, sadly.
If you are serious about pizza, this is a must-try, even if you have to drive across Houston to do it. You may have to utilize the aforementioned few outdoor seats to experience it in its intended piping hot glory... or you can bring it over to my house, as long as you promise to share.
RANKING UPDATE: A tough one, because I worry that I am overhyping this place since it is in my neck of the woods and so near and dear to my heart. But I believe it really is that excellent, so I am awarding it the #3 best pizza on my Houston Restaurant Guide.
NEXT UP: Off the beaten path in Gulfton for a cuisine type that I've not yet written about.