GET MARSIFIED

As you can see from the sign, Rubino’s Pizza, located at 2643 E. Main St. in Bexley, serves pizza and spaghetti. See how the word spaghetti isn’t lit up? It’s because the pizza is the star of the show. Don’t go in there expecting anything fancy because it’s not. For over 50 years locally owned and operated Rubino’s has been serving up Columbus-style pizza on the east side of town. It’s so back-to-basics and done so well that I’ll throw in an “elegantly done” just to spruce things up, though it doesn’t really need it.

Walking in to Rubino’s is like taking a step back in time. I kept waiting for the Fonz to come through the back door. All that was missing was the checkered tablecloths. We sat down at a table that was surrounded by a pinball machine, a Ms. PacMan game and a payphone. Does anyone even use public payphones anymore? We ordered some pies and I ordered the spaghetti because I figured I had to (it’s on the neon, so why not?). My dining companion ordered the salad which, again, was nothing fancy. Basic salad greens tossed in italian dressing.

Next came the bread, then the pies and then my entree. The spaghetti noodles were thin but not quite angel hair and hiding under the sweet and tangy marinara was one lonely meatball. I’ll be honest here. It was okay. The meatball was tasty but wasn’t anything to rave about, the sauce was a little too sweet for my taste, and overall, it just seemed watery to me. It’s not a bad deal for $5.25 but if I’m going back, it’s strictly to eat the ‘za.

And now, the star. I ENDORSE THIS PIZZA. The simplicity of it is what makes it so appealing: a thin, cracker-like crust made from dough that is made and hand stretched on-site, a well seasoned sauce, simple toppings, and for it to be truly Columbus-style, it absolutely must be cut into squares and that it is.

Had I been smart I would’ve set a timer because once it hit the tables, it literally disappeared before the steam evaporated. Were it a thicker crust, I’m sure my dining party would have struggled a bit more to consume it all but because it’s so thin, eating every single delicious last bit was nary a hard task and we even had room for dessert at Jeni’s down the road. So for everything the restaurant itself lacks, like ambiance, mood music, candles in old empty Chianti bottles, fat men tossing pizza dough…wait, there WAS that…the pizza makes up for. Just pretend it’s the late ’50s and your high school team just won and you’re celebrating with your pals. Hopefully the Fonz will show up to crack corny jokes. Ayyyyyyyyyy!

All in all, I’d give it a healthy 3.5 out of 5!