Evil Austin Pizza Reviews #4: Conans

Visiting an old-school Austin deep dish original

Although pizza never shows up in Richard Linklater’s coming-of-age classic Dazed and Confused, it’s not a stretch to imagine Wooderson, Pink, et al. cruising by the recently opened Conans Pizza on Guad at UT later that summer of ‘76 for a little Texas deep dish when the munchies became too much after a wild night at The Emporium.

A BIT OF HISTORY

In an Austin origin story that sounds straight out of central casting, Scott Leist and Jerry Strader (armed with accounting and business degrees, respectively) rolled into town in June of ‘76 from Gainesville, Florida in a van and with dreams of bringing something to this weed-ruled city that it lacked: Deep Dish (Deep Pan in their vernacular), Chicago-style pizza. Well, they didn’t know it would be Austin until they got here, but once they did it was in the bag. “(Austin) was a pizza wasteland” Strader’s son, Chris, told The Daily Texan back in 2013, and Scott and Jerry were determined to do something about it.

Fast forward to 2025, and Conans (now with two locations—there has been some shifting around over the years) lives on as a deeply ingrained Austin pizza institution with a lovably questionable (and ultimately litigious) trademark relationship with the Barbarian-themed art of Frank Frazetta from the ‘70s, which resulted in a 1985 Federal Court ruling that still somehow allows them use of the trade name Conans.

(Photo: Conans)

THE REVIEW

I visited Conans South, in part because I’d found myself in a bit of an early geographical rut with my reviews (too much Central Austin), but also because this location tucked into an established, mixed use residential/retail far South Austin neighborhood somehow just felt right. This isn’t bright, or shiny, or bougie in the least—it’s real and lived in, like the pizza version of your favorite dive bar where the names and faces are familiar and you always feel at home. I’ll call it “Comfort Pizza.”

So, let’s get to the review, shall we?

SCORE LEGEND:

9+ Incredible pizza and experience that I highly recommend.

7.5-8.9: Damn good and most people will enjoy it a lot. I recommend it without reservation.

6.0-7.4: Good, with some issues but definitely worth checking out for most people.

5.0-5.9: Marginal. Some people will like it and it’s not a disaster, but y’all can do better.

4.9 or below: Problematic for a number of reasons. Skip.

PIZZA:

Full disclosure right from the outset: while I like deep dish, it’s not my favorite pizza type, which y’all might have guessed is New York style and its many derivatives. But really good deep dish is something special and I dig it. That’s where Conans comes in.

I’ll start with the fact that these pies are robust. While an entire large at some places with a different pizza style can be wolfed down by one person in a single sitting, two or three pieces of Conans will fill up most normal human beings. So, in a sense, you’re getting more bang for your buck here (more on that later).

You probably knew this, but the pepperoni is deep inside

My pie (half cheese/half pep) came out in about 25 minutes, which seems a perfect amount of time to build something so thicc and substantial.

It was steaming hot—be careful there—and pretty much the same exact pizza that would have be set in front of me in 2019, 2007, 1999, or 1988. It has remained incredibly consistent in terms of taste, presentation, and quality. Conans knows what works and sticks with it no matter what the era.

The crust came out perfectly, and the cheese was exactly where it should be, not too charred but also not under-cooked. The sauce carried a subtle sweetness that paired very nicely with the savoriness of the cheese and pepperoni. And, importantly, everything tasted fresh.

Again, I’m far from a deep dish connoisseur but I visited the renowned Giordano’s in Chicago fairly recently so I’m able to do a 1:1 comparison with what I experienced on West Stassney and Menchaca. The verdict: Conans more than stacks up, and in a blind taste test I’d have almost certainly chosen it over its much more hyped up and expensive cousin from the Midwest.

COST:

While the base price of these pizza are going to run you more than most places in Austin (menu is below), it’s very important to try and do an apples to apples (or pepperoni to pepperoni) comparison.

You’re getting substantially more pizza for your buck here than just about anywhere in town save, maybe, low rung places like Little Ceasars. So, a family with a couple of kids will probably be good with one large, deep dish pizza, offering incredible value. (They have thin crust, too, but I didn’t review it.)

That’s the real deal, right there

That’s part of why Conans has remained so popular with both young people and families. It’s a really impressive 2025 deal which can get you out the door with: (1) a fatter wallet than even some fast food places like Whataburger; and (2) a fuller stomach than at most other quality Austin pizza joints.

Yes, specialty pies and going heavy on toppings can step the price up pretty quickly, but this is par for the course everywhere, including other places I’ve reviewed.

SERVICE:

Conans checks the boxes here in the sense of quality service that’s efficiently done. The staff was pleasant, attentive, and made sure that everything was good and that my order was spot on. But the place itself (more on this, below) is what carries a lot of the water.

The lighting, the art, and the vibes are so vital to what makes the experience special. The staff is there to make you really good pizza but not get in the way of things. Said another way: nobody will be singing to you for your birthday with a pizza cake here, and that feels right.

A peek into a magical realm/the kitchen

This service experience is consistent over the years/between locations. It’s like going to a friend’s home where the door is always open but nobody will be fawning over you. It feels like family, but not in a Ragu commercial way, a doting Italian grandmother at your side making sure every bite is perfect. It gives your experience room to breathe.

Said another way: Conans knows its good and lets the pizza (and its customers) do the talking.

VIBES:

I always list this last, but for Conans it should be higher, because as good as the pizza is here, there’s just something timeless and perfect about the way you feel when you’re here. The vibes are immaculate: a darkish atmosphere, with 70s basement wood paneling, and a ton of retro touches (a piano?!) that all feel effortlessly authentic. And there is more wild, hard PG-13 (soft R?) Frazetta barbarian artwork than anywhere else on earth outside of a museum.

(Mostly) Safe For Work

I chose the Stevie Ray Vaughan booth, which is exactly that: a cozy tribute to/history lesson about an Austin musical legend who was taken far too soon. Just perfection. (Note: Even this hallowed space wasn’t immune from the Frazetta art, a testament to how deeply ingrained that particular theme is here.)

While I was there (weeknight around 7:30) I observed every possible archetype of customer: cool Millennial couple, family of five with kids, Gen Xers, and a booth full of bros who could have just stepped out of a D&D convention. In fact, this cross-section of clientele was by far the richest of any place I’ve reviewed so far.

Immaculate vibes has become a bit of cliche, but it’s hard to argue with those I was engulfed in that evening.

Perfect

SCORE: 9.3

I cannot overstate how good this score is given where I am with deep dish relative to other styles. The amazing consistency of Conans is a bedrock part of why I am recommending it so enthusiastically.

It deftly teleports you back to a magical time when Austin was a simpler, cooler, and more pure place.

You’re warmly cocooned in that magic for an hour or so, before being spit back out into the real world of 2025, where Labradoodle day spas and bright, soulless, ultra-modern establishments hocking everything from ice cream needing a loan department to overpriced organic massages to bougie IPA rule the day.

Conans is special and, hopefully, won’t be going anywhere for a long time.