Pepperoni & Mushroom
The house default. Thin, crisp to the edge, cut in squares the way this city used to do it.
Pizza · The Junction
The Junction’s pizzeria since 1957, and the reason the strip has a centre of gravity
Vesuvio has been on Dundas St W since 1957, which in Toronto restaurant terms is close to geological. The Junction has changed around it several times over — dry for decades, then rough, then expensive — and the pizzeria has responded by changing nothing at all.
The pizza is Toronto-style: thin, crisp right to the edge, cut into squares, sauce applied with restraint. It is not Neapolitan and is not pretending to be, and the current fashion for 90-second pies has done nothing to make it worse. Pepperoni and mushroom is the order. The Vesuvio Special is what to get if you want to know whether the kitchen is coasting; it is not.
The spaghetti half of the name gets ignored, which is a small shame. Meatballs are dense and properly seasoned and the portion is absurd for the money.
Honest notes: the room is a counter with tables attached and looks it. It closes Mondays. If you want a designed dining room, the rest of Dundas West will sell you one.
The house default. Thin, crisp to the edge, cut in squares the way this city used to do it.
Everything on it. Order it once to see what the kitchen is actually doing.
The other half of the name, and nobody orders it. They should.
Pepperoni and mushroom, takeout, sixty-nine years of practice. The Junction’s anchor.