It’s about 7:30 p.m., and last night’s monsoon-like conditions still haven’t tapered off as I head to Sizzle Pie. Outside, the bright red lights showcase the name of our destination, which is located down the street from the all-too-familiar Voodoo Doughnut.

Here’s to hoping the pie toppings don’t include stale fruit loops.

The atmosphere is warm, to say the least. Kind of hell-like, actually, but it’s to assume that’s what the owners of Sizzle Pie going for. A grunged-out waiter to take our order. I admire her black hair — it reminds me of, well, everything else in the restaurant. Everything is black and red, including an off-putting vegan pie sitting in the warmer. Cartooned and creepy, mustached pizza faces lay out the pie sizes above our heads. My friend and I decide on the largest creepy, mustached pizza face topped with white truffle oil, goat cheese, green onions and pancetta.

Bling-bling.

A slice of cheese and a slice of pepperoni pizza from Sizzle Pie. (Nate Barrett/Emerald)

A big sign lets us know that “good food takes time” and from this a near thirty-minute wait follows.

It goes by pretty fast. I take the time and scope out the crowd. It isn’t the kind to be expected, but the early time is probably to blame. Seated in the tables surrounding are middle-aged couples probably “grabbing a unique new bite downtown.”

As time ticks on, more unkempt beards — and fewer $150 Patagonia jackets — begin making their way inside. Many head toward the bar, which features concoctions so fittingly named things like, “The Def Leopard,” “Bad Brains,” and “Dopesmoker.” I spot no ironic cans of Pabst. Above the bar, more red showtime lights spell out, “EAT PIZZA EVERY DAY.” I wonder if I need be of age to follow this advice.

Alas, the awaited arrives. It’s cheesy, it’s hot and it’s big as hell.

I grab a slice, but then immediately grab a handful of napkins, instead. What I first thought to be a load of grease ends up being the pizza’s white truffle oil topping — the same thing, only pleasantly scented and loads more expensive. I think this particular pie is called “The Gold Chain” because it shimmers like one.

The toppings are spread out far between, but it isn’t bothersome. In fact, it kind of makes each bite different — sometimes green onion-y, sometimes pancetta-y, but always white-truffle-oil-y. The crust — an extremely important part of every pizza establishment — is thin, chewy and perfectly browned. The flavor combination actually ends up being amazing, and the other pizzas on the menu now have my trust.

Some of these: “Good Luck in Jail,” with white vodka sauce and bacon, and their signature “Napalm Breath,” with crushed garlic, pepperoni and fresh jalapeños.

I believe a return is now in order.