Skip to main contentHas Portland hit peak pizza?
Being crowned the best pizza city in America has coincided with the opening of even more pizza places around town. New Haven- and Detroit-style pies abound alongside preparations with origins in Chicago, like tavern and deep dish. There are also fusion pizzas with elevated toppings and vegan versions of the baked dough staple.
Industry veterans and husband-and-wife team Anthony Siccardi and Gabriella Casabianca entered the mix three years ago by launching a Sicilian-style pop-up, which found a permanent home in late 2022 inside the former Handsome Pizza space on Northeast Killingsworth Street. So in a city packed with pizza joints, is No Saint a worthy addition? After my visits, it was clear that the answer is…sort of.
Walking into No Saint, I noticed that, give or take the new paint job and updated chairs, the décor is similar to that of the previous occupant. Notably present is the massive, steampunk-looking wood-fired oven that is now used to make much of the menu, but don’t expect the same pies as Handsome.
Before I got to the food, I had to get past the bizarre fast-casual setup during my initial visit. The thing is, No Saint isn’t fast or casual, and its prices are high enough that you should reasonably expect regular table service (more on that later).
The menu at No Saint is minimal and dishes get rotated in and out on a seasonal basis. Your eyes might be drawn to the pizzas, but I found the best way to start the party is with one of the more creative salad offerings. The calamari salad ($16) was a delight, with the squid poached to perfect tenderness and served in a pool of black garlic remouladelike sauce, though the olives cranked up the salt level a bit too high. From there, things took a less impressive turn with the trenne à la vodka ($22). I was enticed by this dish because it gets a final kiss of char in the oven, creating a crunchy top. But that was where the fun stopped. Not even the creamy sauce, well-cooked pasta and dollop of burrata could hide the one-dimensional flavor.
The pizza at No Saint is…OK. If the staff can nail down the cadence of service and the kitchen can produce a more consistent pie, then it has the potential to be solid—maybe even excellent. When I did finally receive my green garlic pizza ($30)—undoubtedly rushed after being forgotten under a deluge of orders to go—the crust was doughy and the middle undercooked, with a noticeable absence of char compared to pizzas at neighboring tables. Garlic makes everything better, yet in this case, it couldn’t do much to elevate what felt like a slightly fancy, slightly oily cheese pizza.
The switch from counter to regular table service on my next visit led to a more attentive and comfortable experience, and the staff looked relieved to get to do their job. Maybe it was this welcome adjustment or the early evening sunshine creating an airy and inviting atmosphere, but a calmer mood had taken over the dining room.
The chopped salad ($15) was a winner, presenting as a Caesar with more complexity in both flavor and texture. Sweet, chewy dates complemented the acidity and tangy crunch of the pickled celery, while the funk of the goat gouda and a familiar hit of dill in the homemade buttermilk dressing rounded it out.
Maybe the positive vibes made the pepperoni supreme ($31) more enjoyable, or maybe it was just better executed. Though a few more ‘ronis would have made this pizza sing—topping inconsistency is an issue at No Saint—the combination of hot honey, pepperoncini and spiced Coro pepperoni made it the kind of pizza you want to crush in one sitting despite your better judgment. This time around, there was almost too much char despite a somewhat doughy crust, but I could feel the kitchen getting more dialed in.
If there is one saving grace at No Saint, it’s dessert. I like cake and I love Campari, and the Campari cake ($10) is the star of the show on this menu. It’s fluffy, moist and decadent yet so light, anyone who didn’t finish the confection should be eyed with suspicion. Hopefully, No Saint will get more use out of all of the baking space that seemed mostly unoccupied while I was there.
True to its name, No Saint isn’t a divine intervention in Portland’s bustling pizza scene. Given the team behind it and the oven they inherited, the restaurant certainly has potential to be better than just another overpriced neighborhood joint. Between fixing the service model and the quality of the pies on separate visits, you can already see them working out the kinks. Pray that this is a sign No Saint will one day ascend to heavenly pizza status.
EAT: No Saint, 1603 NE Killingsworth St., 503-206-8321, nosaintpdx.com. 5-9 pm Thursday-Sunday.
Correction: WW originally referred to No Saint’s pizza as Neapolitan-style rather than Sicilian. We regret the error.