Tucked into the parking lot of dive staple V-Room on 4th Street, a small line of people onto the sidewalk patiently waiting to order from Waldo’s Pizza as it celebrates its one-year anniversary. They, of course, know the pizza. Two-day fermented and perfectly charred’n’bubbled pies that are as uncomplicated as they are masterfully created. It is the art of simplicity executed with extreme talent.
What they likely don’t know is that Waldo Stout, its charismatic, humble leader, has a culinary pedigree like no other. From L.A. legends like Bestia and Bavel to Long Beach staples like Little Coyote (for which he created the dough that was promptly stolen by its former owners and proclaimed as their own) and Naples gem Marlena under the dough-creation of Chef Michael Ryan, Waldo has had his hands directly involved in making some of the region’s best food.
And that is what makes having Waldo’s Pizza—now a popup, hoping to become a staple brick-and-mortar in the future—such an honor for Long Beach’s wildly strong pizza game.
The roots of Waldo’s Pizza stretch from Sonora to Arizona to Long Beach.
For Waldo, the great Mexican state of Sonora holds deep, deep weight. It can range from reminiscing days spent at Bahía Kino or the fact that former Chianina manager and longtime mentor to Waldo, Alejandro Duran, shared Sonoran heritage, prompting conversations about the northern Mexican state. But for certainty, the mighty flour tortilla of Sonora is what reins supreme. And specifically, his mother making them nearly every day while they lived in Tuscon, Arizona.
“She would make these things called tortillas sobaqueras, which are tortillas that are stretched so big they reach from your hand to your armpit—hence sobaqueras,” Waldo said, laughing. “I grew up watching her make these my entire life. It was such a captivating thing to watch be made. It was completely inspiring but I didn’t know quite then just how central those experiences would be in my future endeavors.”
And given they’re the size of a 20-inch pizza so, there lies even more unspoken poetry: His mom saw Waldo’s future calling long before he did, even as she watched him move to California in the name of BMX biking.
“I can confidently say I prefer flour tortillas over corn tortillas. It is what I grew up on, what I learned to respect,” Waldo said. “Watching my mom and grandmother make these beautiful flour tortillas made me realize one significant thing. My hands were made to touch dough.”
Waldo Stout became obsessed with food by becoming a part of clutch spaces that honor that very obsession.
While searching for BMX, Waldo found fine dining when landing in California. Specifically, Chianina, the much-missed Italian steakhouse from Michael Dene that closed in 2021. He went from server to line cook under the tutelage of its former chef, David Coleman, and general manager, Alejandro Duran.
“Alejandro was like a father figure to me,” Waldo said. “He constantly supported my attempt at cooking even as Coleman tried to put nails in the coffin of that dream,” he said, laughing. He noted he asked Coleman if he could be a cook over a beer. In return, Coleman allegedly went full-90s-angry-chef with a barrage of degradations and You-Can-Never-Live-This-Life affronts. But with a tenacity and determination that would be a hallmark of his attitude, Waldo found himself in the man’s very kitchen he claimed Waldo could never be a part of.
From there, he would see our region’s best chefs doing their best work—starting at always-in-everyone’s-top-10-restaurants Bestia. (And yes, he burnt two steaks and was sent to the salad station in the owner’s hopes that he would quit but: tenacity and determination.) Waldo’s talent was so on point that Bestia Chef Ori Menashe chose him and one other cook to help open his equally lauded Bavel.
Looking over at the hearth station, he saw the dough balls that make the Bavel’s famed pita. It brought him back to his mother’s tortilla making, encouraging him to work at Lodge Bread. And, because he was “a broke-ass cook that needed money,” he got a second job at Culver City pizza staple Roberta’s. Then Gjusta. Then Otium under the Thomas Keller-mentored Chef Timothy Hollingsworth. Pizzeria Sei.
And then…
Waldo’s influence on Long Beach pizza is the unsung song of local pies.
Let’s just get one blunt fact out of the way: Waldo is one of the unsung masters of Long Beach pizza, whose grasp on it is one of the most mighty but unheard culinary stories.
When the pandemic hit, Wade Windsor—owner of the much-missed Lord Windsor shop that is now home to Black Dog—told Waldo of a pizza space that was opening on 4th Street. Long before Little Coyote became the hyped beast that it once was—even Bill Addison of the Los Angeles Times dubbed them an exception new restaurant in 2021—Waldo walked in with a resume that was the equivalent of pure gold for a pizzeria.
Owners Jonathan Strader and Chef Jack Leahy claimed that Leahy had a “pizza dough laboratory” inside his apartment, spending months upon months perfecting the dough that Little Coyote became locally famous for. In reality, it was Waldo’s—and following a serious injury that rendered Waldo to the bed, Leahy took ownership while promptly sending Waldo home with no future job.
This, however, did not deter Waldo: From there, he created the pizza for Long Beach brewery Beachwood’s Huntington Beach concept, again scoring gold in the pizza category. And then he helped hone the pizza program at Marlena under Chef Michael Ryan.
Waldo’s Pizza is the beginning of a long-held, old-school dream.
“It’s paying the bills and getting me by,” Waldo said. “But I want something bigger for Waldo’s Pizza.”
The growing cohort of Gen Z food creators stands by ghost kitchens and popups solely. Waldo rejects this, even as he sees growing success with his popup. His identity sits firmly in the Millenial ideal that brick-and-mortars still matter.
“I want a space that can be part of the community here in Long Beach. My ideal dream is to own a pizzeria that sticks around for 30, 40 years—like the old-school pizzerias in New York.,” Waldo said. “And in all honesty, I wish I went out on my own earlier. Because it’s made me grow in so many ways.”
That growth has proven priceless. Waldo has been forced into the front-facing world of popups, honing his hospitality skills. He literally sees each and every customer, creating a fanbase that has a handful “appearing at every popup I host.” He has watched patrons purchase and wear his merchandise. (“That is just too damn cute,” Waldo said when he first saw customers wearing his brand.)
“I am inspired by people like Jairo [Bogarín of Hamburger Nice],” Waldo said. “It’s more than a smash burger; he’s created a community. And it’s a community that cares about connection as much as it does quality food. That is where I hope to see Waldo’s Pizza head to… A Long Beach-centric place that is part of the food community. A place where people go to and say, ‘Man, I remember first having your pizza at the parking lot of The V-Room.’ That’s the dream. That’s the hope.”
To find out where Waldo’s Pizza will popup, follow their Instagram.
