At Bobbi’s Pizza, You Have To Get The Burger

Personally, I think rectangular Detroit-style pizza is Goated. To those dummies who want to talk about “authenticity” or bring up stupid things like circles and triangles, I raise you the Roman pizza (look it up, it’s square). I speak on behalf of all pizza connoisseurs when I say that I’ve taken great pleasure in observing the recent rise in Detroit-style’s popularity across the country these last few years. Every state is waking up and realizing that the burnt, crispy cheese on the edges combined with the heavy and unique toppings (only possible due to the characteristically thick, weight-bearing dough) yields a bite with endless possibility and flavor combinations, ranging from familiar pepperoni to new and trendy butter chicken. All that is to say, the genre of pizza that Bobbi’s has committed itself to making is one that is hard to be bad at. Detroit style pizza tastes really good. Bobbi’s makes Detroit style. I like Bobbi’s. 

If you’re like me, your interest in Bobbi’s has probably waxed and waned since its arrival in New Haven on October 16th, 2025. Maybe you’ve been intrigued by the notion of square pizza, but oops! You were later scared off after seeing you needed to cough up $20 for four (admittedly large, yes) slices of pepperoni. Still reeling from that, mayhaps a well-timed notification from UberEats boasting a Buy One Get One Free deal or a promise of free food from the Yale Undergraduate Pizza Society drew you back in. Whatever the case may be, I’d like to present a more attractive option: a menu item so slept on that – once discovered by the masses – I have reason to believe will siphon away all nearby student’s disposable incomes until nothing is left. I write to warn you about, as you may have guessed or read in the title, the Bobbi’s burger. 

Tucked away in a dark, mysterious corner of the menu, their unassuming smashburger is available in single or double patty options. Beware! It doesn’t come with fries. Napkins, however, abound. Whatever the case, if you choose to buy this burger, just know that you have chosen to cross over into another dimension: a dimension of smell, a dimension of taste, a dimension of meat. You’ve just crossed over into… the Bobbi Zone. 

Here is a world of crispy, buttery, beefy goodness—the best burger in New Haven, many (me) are saying. A simple, succulent patty (or two!) set between soft potato buns with lettuce, tomato, onion, cheddar, and a secret sauce–tangy, savory, and not too overwhelming so as to interfere with the flavor of the patty. Entering Bobbi’s means passing over a boundary where the Laws of Physics no longer apply, where Unstoppable Force and Immovable Object are given form and presented to you in a little cardboard box. You look behind the counter and expect magicians, wizards, or witches—but shockingly—Bobbi’s substitutes potions and cauldrons for fresh beef and flat-top grills. Their burger may seem like a simple thing, but its blend of crispy and juicy is like a charm that keeps you coming back for more. Lingering on the back of my mind is the notion of a second dinner, a third lunch, or a mid-afternoon burger snack.  Is this what the Krabby Patty tastes like? I can finally empathize with Plankton. If this is what comes out of that unassuming lobster trap, I’d try to steal the secret formula too!! It’s the best item on the menu. I can confidently say this because it’s my sworn duty as a Yeater to try each menu item from every nearby restaurant, even if this club’s leadership insists that I “don’t have to do that” and says, “we’re not gonna cover your meals anymore, weirdo.”

If the fact that you need to buy a whole pie every time (4 slices) or the distance from Pauli Murray has prevented you from heading over to Bobbi’s, you’re making a mistake. It’s worth a try at least once, and I suspect that if you get the burger (you must get the burger) you’ll come back. And then back again. Maybe even a third time. Such is the fate of many victims (beneficiaries?) of this mysterious burger: doomed not only to drain their own bank accounts, but also to entice their friends and publication readers to get hooked as well–just as the Sirens lured sailors to their deaths on the sharp rocks. Rejoice and be glad, our song is delicious!