Pizza is everywhere in America—background noise in a culinary culture that rarely pauses to consider the crust. But for chef Sean Brock, a single slice in Tokyo redefined everything. What began as a surprise encounter at the legendary pizzeria Savoy in 2016 has since evolved into a full-blown obsession, culminating in the opening of Sho Pizza Bar, Brock’s meticulously crafted ode to pizza in the heart of Nashville.
At Sho, Brock isn’t just tossing dough. He’s deconstructing and reimagining tradition—one hyper-detailed element at a time. The Tokyo pizza he fell for wasn’t flashy; it was refined, almost spiritual. The precision. The fire. The restraint. It hit him like a revelation. Inspired by Tokyo’s shokunin pizzaiolos—artisans with a Zen-like devotion to craft—Brock began his own pilgrimage into pizza’s hidden depths, pulling from a lifetime of culinary curiosity and a near-religious respect for ingredients.
During the pandemic, that fascination intensified. In true Brock fashion, the research spiraled into hundreds of tests, notebooks full of data, and obsessive tweaks: flour protein content, hydration ratios, mineral-rich salts, fermentation times, even the number of chews required to finish a slice. Nothing was left to chance. He went as far as fine-tuning his car’s A/C to keep his dough at ideal temperature while baking at a local farmers market.
The result? A neo-Neapolitan style that honors tradition without being bound to it. Brock’s pies feature the signature pillowy crust and slight char, but without the soggy center. Each one is a study in balance—an elevated, ingredient-forward experience that challenges assumptions of what pizza can be. His mushroom pie, for instance, isn’t just mushrooms—it’s local fungi wood-fired and reduced into a silky cream purée before being kissed by flame again.
At Sho, classics meet creativity. You’ll find Meyer lemon on white pies, puttanesca with artichokes, and a rotating selection that leans on local, seasonal produce. The toppings shift, but the obsession stays constant. Brock shares the kitchen with trusted collaborators Trey Tench and Johnny Woodward, and partnered with kindred spirits Mary Carlisle and Ben Gambill to bring the restaurant to life. Even LA’s Pizzeria Sei stepped in to help source rare Italian cheese.
Yet, for all the high-concept technique, Sho remains deeply human. Brock spends his days behind the 12-seat chef’s counter, stretching dough and curating playlists from an iPad—equal parts chef and DJ. “Every pizza I make I’m getting better,” he says.
“I literally stand in the same spot from 11 am to 10 pm. It’s the most zenned out I’ve ever been in the kitchen”
At Sho, pizza isn’t fast food—it’s philosophy. And in Brock’s hands, the most familiar food on the American table becomes something else entirely: a revelation.
