Review Reviews: C&As (A 3-1 Victory)

Hanover boasts a wide array of restaurants, satisfying the palates of even the most discerning of patrons. We have restaurants specializing in cuisine from Thailand, China, Mexico, Italy, and our very own United States of America. Yet, some members of this panoply of eateries fly under the radar, sadly missed by those who only scratch the surface of the world that is Hanover’s restaurants. One such restaurant is C&As, a Greek pizzeria located across the street from the Black Family Visual Arts Center. Long available only for takeout due  to interior renovations, the restaurant recently reopened for sit-down dining. Wanting to experience this newly re-invigorated restaurant, we at The Review set out last weekend to experience C&As.

Lintaro Donovan:

C&As does not try to be anything more than it already is—that is, Hanover’s best option for fresh, cheap, handmade pizza. For full disclosure, after a freshman year of thinking the restaurant might have been a front for the local wise guy (the perpetually empty dining room didn’t help fix this impression), I decided to try C&As during finals week of 21F. 

Since then, their chicken parmesan sandwich has become a staple of what I call my “study benders” and perhaps the reason why I didn’t drop out during some especially strenuous reading periods. During this Review excursion, I had the pleasure of sampling some of their other menu options as well, including their famous cheeseburger grinder, classic cheese pizza, and french fries. The chicken parm, as my Snackpass history shows, is reliably ooey, gooey, and delicious. C&As does not skimp out on either chicken or cheese; the chicken tenders that compose the protein element are also mainly chicken, with only a thin layer of red sauce-soaked breading. For this alone, the restaurant deserves a Roman triumph.(I apologize to the owners for this allusion. I believe you might even be Greek.)

The red sauce itself, slightly sweet, is well-textured with ample tomato chunks. On a toasted grinder roll, the chicken, sauce, and layers of Parmesan become a delicious, butcher paper-wrapped sandwich one could imagine Mama Corleone to have made when Vito was conducting “business.” The cheeseburger sandwich was a cheeseburger in grinder form. The ground beef patties, lettuce, tomato, cheese, and mayonnaise worked well together—my only complaint is that the sandwich had too much lettuce, which took up around 50% of the available fillable volume in the grinder. I recommend this sandwich if you want pizzeria food but also want to hit your fiber goal for the day. I reiterate. though: The sandwich is delicious, just with less meat than the chicken parm. The french fries were crisp on the outside, fluffy on the inside. They needed more salt, but I’m going to stay my pen here—fries are not the proper yardstick by which to measure a pizzeria. And at the basics, C&As excels. Their cheese pizza is fresh and hot, with a thinner crust than Ramunto’s and probably fewer seed oils than Domino’s. The large, which is big enough to feed two or three on its own, is only $13.95. Did I mention that the grinders are also the last food options in Hanover that I can think of that are both cheap ($9.95) and filling? 

C&As now has a “building for sale” sign in front of its dining room. If this Hanover institution does close soon, I can only exhort my fellow Dartmouth students to conduct a pilgrimage. The food is great. It’s cheap. And C&As just might help you survive finals.

Elan Kluger:

C&As is a good pizza place, at least in the sense that one requires calories to survive. But starving oneself would be better: at least that is an interesting experience. I can imagine some point in the future, when a bunch of people say they want C&As. I will say then, with a great degree of confidence, “No, I am not hungry,” and sit there while my stomach grumbles, longing for some food. If I had actually paid money for it, I would have felt buyer’s remorse to the extreme. Yet somehow I still feel buyer’s remorse, for the fact that I could have eaten at Foco or maybe a homeless shelter.

The restaurant design is certainly unbefitting a college campus: It looks like a bowling alley. But the food is worse. Humans reason by analogy so try this: The food looks like frozen Costco pizza put into a microwave. It tastes like pizza eaten at a movie theater that children of a very poor family in the Midwest on their one night out a year decide to buy because they think it looks good and they don’t know any better—and indeed they think it is good, but the oils and large amounts of highly processed ingredients that went into it are the reason they are overweight. But I do not live in Des Moines, and I did not vote for Trump. So C&As is not for me.

Nevertheless, I recommend everyone eat there. Support small businesses!

James Eiler:

Immediately upon entering the restaurant, one is greeted by an environment exemplifying the best of the New England pizzeria style. With old-fashioned booths, a counter at which one orders, and a billboard displaying the menu, C&As typifies pizza restaurants found across rural New Hampshire. 

Yet, it has its own character, with Greek-themed artwork plastering the walls and showcasing a unique heritage. The menu itself is diverse, with many options for toppings along with sandwiches and gyros for those who want other options. We ordered from across this substantial menu, partaking of cheese pizza and several sandwiches. The sandwiches were satisfying and hearty, offering a simple alternative from the niche cuisine found in many of Hanover’s more upscale restaurants. The pizza was by far the best of the lot, combining well-made crust with warm and delicious cheese. When compared to the typical Dartmouth pizza experience, lukewarm 3am Dominos, C&As’ pizza was like ambrosia. 

Finally, the staff was more than accommodating. We were, I must admit, rather boisterous in our conversation, generating about 95% of the decibels in the room. Yet, the staff never asked us to quiet down, demonstrating an impressive level of toleration. 

To bring things back to Earth, C&As’ pizza was nothing unique. Was it good? Of course. But it was fundamentally similar to the hundreds of other pizza restaurants strewn across the myriad small towns of New England. And yet C&As excels within those boundaries. It is reasonably priced and of good quality. A simple combination, but one not often found in Hanover. This Reviewer would recommend C&As to all those in search of a good, standard pizza.

Daniel Jeon:

As a New Yorker, I usually take pizza pies seriously. I do not hold back when I critique a pizza. When it’s horrible I fiercely grimace, and when it’s delicious, my face lights up in ecstasy. If anyone—ranging from friend to chef—is piqued by my intense expressions, I would proudly state my case.

However, my experience with C&As’ pizza was altogether odd. I did not feel I could judge it by my usual standards. In comparison to the many pizzas I have eaten over the years, C&As’ cheese pizza was like a toy a child would buy to cunningly prank his mother. All I could think of as I chewed on the slice was how the taste reminded me of the Chuck E. Cheese pizza I had as a five year old. As a child, I may have squealed out of happiness because Chuck E. Cheese was pleasing to my inexperienced palate. But, of course, this is not the case anymore. 

My attitude towards C&As pizza pie doesn’t extend to every aspect of the pizzeria. First, the aesthetic of the pizzeria is comfortable: modest colors for their seating area with a few wooden tables and casual cushioned seats. Due to its appearance, I could imagine myself hopping into the pizzeria with a friend for a quick chat; during our visit there, my fellow Reviewers and I freely conversed about politics and life at Dartmouth with ease.

Also, despite their pizzas not being spectacular, their sandwiches were surprisingly pleasant to eat. I had a sandwich with (if I’m not mistaken) beef and vegetables; the flavors of the two complemented each other, and I found myself contentedly chowing down on it. The only minor issue I found with it was its greasiness. But one could simply use a plate to absorb some of the grease off the sandwich, which is just what I was able to do. 

Although I did not leave C&As with complete satisfaction, I did not have an expectation that it would be breathtaking in the first place. The pizzeria is merely another option for customers who have a spontaneous craving for pizza and sandwiches. Would I return for the pizza? Absolutely not. But would I return for the beef sandwich? Probably, yes.