At Char, a 22-year-old prodigy cranks out some of the most exciting pizza in Philly

I was big into musical theater when I was in high school and my folks, unsurprisingly, were my biggest fans. Not only did they attend every show, they schlepped in wagonloads of friends and family to ensure that at least someone in the audience would be cheering.

I was recently reminded of that gift of unqualified parental support when I bit into the heat-blistered crust of a margherita pie at Char, the energetic Olde Kensington pizzeria owned by 22-year-old pizza wunderkind Viraj Thomas.

As I savored the balance of his pizza’s sunshine-bright toppings framed by the rustic crunch of his crust, I looked up to see a crowd gathered at the counter beside the open kitchen, where Thomas was confidently performing on his own sort of stage. He coolly multitasked while chatting with the group as he deftly maneuvered his peel into the blazing wood-fired hearth, scooped out smoking-hot pies, and meticulously dusted the excess flour from their edges with a brush until the crusty rims shined with a golden luster.

At the heart of his adoring audience? The pizzaiolo’s parents, Phillip Thomas and Reny George, whom I recognized from my previous visit — and the visit before that — inevitably flanked each time by a handful of different family and friends from their Keralese community in Springfield, Pa., where Thomas also still lives.

“I couldn’t have done this without them. My parents, they are oh so supportive,” says Thomas, whose interest was sparked by a YouTube pizza show and an encounter with fresh-baked laffa bread at a family dinner at Zahav. He got his first Roccbox pizza oven in the summer of 2020, before his senior year at Springfield High School, and began selling bootleg pizzas out of the family’s garage.

Thomas has genuine pro-level talent when it comes to pizza (unlike my acting skills). The high school hobby evolved into something much more as his entrepreneurial spirit and determination to study the craft helped him overcome some self-admitted immaturity. I first noticed his skill in 2021 with a Neapolitan-style pie topped with Sorrento lemons and buffalo milk mozzarella at Cicala at the Divine Lorraine, a stint that lasted five months. (“I didn’t get the importance of speed and I talked back too much,” he said of his time at Cicala.) He worked through two years of pizza pop-ups — “I got tired of working dough in 27-degree weather without gloves” — and managed to eventually open his own restaurant before he was old enough to buy vodka for the vodka sauce. (It turned out his preferred recipe for the sauce didn’t require booze anyway.)

A year now after opening Char in the former Eeva, a lofty industrial space shared with ReAnimator Coffee, Thomas has learned a lot about both making pizza and running a business. He’s steadily grown this no-frills, counter-service BYOB into a five-night juggernaut that can turn out 150 pies on a busy Saturday, when waits for the room’s 40 seats can easily take an hour or more.

It helps that the pizzeria is surrounded by several breweries (Wissahickon, Punch Buggy, Human Robot) and wineries (Pray Tell, Mural City) within walking distance to ease the wait and accompany the meal. But this crowd is genuinely enthusiastic for Char because it has become one of the most exciting stops among Philly’s new guard of next-level pizzerias — along with Trenton-style CJ&D’s, the quirky dinner-party vibe of tiny Agricola, and New Haven-style Eda’s on my short list of other current favorites.

Thomas’ pies, whose rounds resemble a Neapolitan but are baked much longer until they achieve a roasty crisp, have improved considerably over time. The early pies occasionally took the restaurant’s name too literally, over-charring the crusts into carbon-bubbled wheels.

But I’ve watched him harness the wood oven’s 750-degree heat with more consistency over the past year to land a nice balance of singe, puff, and crackle on the pizza’s cornicione edges. And he has also developed a distinctive touch — a remarkable sense of lightness — that conveys focused flavors and an elusive balance of toppings that are memorable without feeling overly weighty to eat.

I’ve grown bored with most versions of the the now-ubiquitous hot honey pepperoni pie. But Char’s version is a reminder of why the sweet-and-savory combo worked to begin with, as each bite captures just the right contrast of meaty cup-and-char pepperoni tang, chile heat, and lingering backnote of sweetness that also accents the yeasty dough.

Thomas’ mushroom pizza has more finesse than its cliché name, Fun Guy, with a blend of multiple mozzarellas with various moisture levels to lay a springy base, a touch of garlic, and mushrooms with enough character — maitakes, blue oysters, and sometimes chanterelles — to retain their snappy, woodsy flavor.

Thomas shows he can play minimalist, too, with essential basics like the Marinara, whose naturally sweet sauce of Bianco di Napoli California tomatoes is kissed with sea salt and oregano, then lashed with peppery drizzles of Tuscan olive oil while still hot from the oven. The Margherita showcases the melting flow and lactic sweetness of fresh mozzarella from Caputo Bros. Creamery in York County (Thomas’ favorite mozz to date).

Char’s specials always keep it seasonal and interesting, including a summer pie with smoky speck, fontina, and sweet peaches, and another that blended four kinds of alliums (caramelized Tropea onions, scallions, spring onions, and crispy shallots) over a white cheese base. I was bummed to miss the short window for his corn and crème fraîche pie drizzled with chili oil from Little Fish — but the 90-minute wait that evening was too much for my hungry crew.

If there is one pizza you must try at Char, it is Thomas’ signature New School Tomato Pie. This creation builds on the marinara base with shaved garlic and two kinds of Datterini mini-plum tomatoes — the reds semi-dried; the yellows left whole — so they burst with juicy sweetness beneath a pungently smoky lace of shaved Fiore Sardo cheese and a dusting of breadcrumbs, whose snap above the crust brings an almost stereophonic crunch. It’s complex. It’s showy. It’s bold. It’s easy to crush.

Even the new Sicilian square pies that have been recently added to the menu are impressively airy, a takeout friendly pie (occasionally also available for dine-in) that is parcooked before service and quickly finished in electric ovens to order. Despite the fact that the borders of ours were a shade too dark and it puffed so high I could have napped on it, the pie ate like a two-inch-thick cloud enriched with olive oil and decadently creamy (vodka-less) vodka sauce.

That fluffy dough is identical to the focaccia offered as an appetizer topped with whipped ricotta, honey, olive oil, and flaky sea salt, whose balanced flavors make it impossible to resist. There are other starters worth diving into — a tasty kale Caesar that’s predictable but well-made and also some outstanding meatballs made of pork and beef mixed with heavy cream, bread, and onions. They are memorably fluffy, with a light afterglow of Calabrian chile paste added to the mix.

Char’s desserts are limited but also notable because of the fun seasonal soft-serve combos (the blueberry-corn swirl was a winner) and a chocolate cream pie that was intense and satisfying.

You’ll want to indulge in some of these small plates while you patiently wait for your pizzas to be next out of the oven. The pies cook in just a few minutes each, but Char’s current setup can only handle three at a time. Thomas has plans to transition to a larger electric oven this fall, which he insists will not affect the flavor so much as allow him to expand capacity and speed. It’ll also save him buying thousands of dollars of hardwood each month.

“It’s so romantic to see a flickering hearth when you walk in,” he says, “but its use of space and energy are inefficient.”

I’m dubious as to whether the pizzas will taste the same without a wood fire, whose intense dry heat has more influence on flavor than smoke. But I’m confident in Thomas’ abilities to dial in excellence no matter what kind of oven he’s wrangling.

One thing is for certain: This pizzaiolo’s parents will be in the crowd cheering him on, steadily bringing guests to Olde Kensington to show off their son’s food, even if it means they have to wait for a table just like the rest of us.

“They don’t skip the line,” says Thomas, “but despite my dad’s attempts, they also haven’t paid.”

310 Master St., Philadelphia, Pa. 19122, 215-964-9874; char.pizza

Open Wednesday through Sunday, 4-9 p.m. Closed Monday and Tuesday.

No reservations.

BYOB.

Wheelchair accessible.

Not suitable for gluten-free diners (except the soft-serve ice cream).

Menu highlights: kale Caesar; meatballs; ricotta toast; round pies (New School Tomato Pie; Margherita; Fun Guy; pepperoni with hot honey); square pie with vodka sauce; soft-serve ice cream.