Mazala Pijja Credit: Matt Keller Lehman

Sunny Corda has been an instrumental figure in championing Indian cuisine across this city with Mynt in Hannibal Square, Indian Pavilion in Winter Garden, and Saffron and Madras Café in Dr. Phillips, among others. He even ventured a bit outside his comfort zone when he opened Simply Gyros and Malaysian restaurant Rasa, both of which were eventually replaced by the aforementioned Madras Café. Point is, Corda’s not afraid to take a chance, and I sense he was doing just that in opening Mazala Pijja, a restaurant specializing in Indian-style pizza in the former Gully/Daana Pani/Bombay Cafe space on South OBT.

Desi pies have gained traction in large cities across North America, and with Orlando’s sizable population, I’m sure Corda thought, why not here?

Why not, indeed. In a space that’s seen three different concepts in the past five years, perhaps a fusion pizza concept will stick. 

My pals, however, were a bit incredulous, and the bright, modern space with its Scandi lighting, wood tables and blue velour chairs wasn’t doing much to change their minds. But biting into a slice of the butter chicken pizza ($20) had them rethinking their stance. 

Mazala Pijja Credit: Matt Keller Lehman

The crust, made from all-purpose flour, cornmeal and Indian spices, was sturdy enough to withstand the heavy weight of the curried sauce, chicken chunks, mozzarella, green peppers and onions — which, contradicting the menu, weren’t caramelized. It’s just that the crust seemed a lot more perfunctory than precise — a pizza where the toppings drive the pie and the crust takes a back seat. Either way, it really should be more than just, pardon the extended pun, a vehicle for sauce and fixings. I’d rather see a variation of naan as the pizza’s foundation, or perhaps a pan or Neapolitan crust, as other Indian pizza houses employ. Nevertheless, the flavors of the toppings proved wholly gratifying. 

In the lamb seekh kebab pizza ($22), the sausage-like slivers added a bold spicing to the pie. Were they a bit dry? Yes. And that’s where a proper-good crust can offset any topping mishaps on a pijja. That word, BTW, is Hinglish for “pizza,” while “Mazala” is a fusion of the Hindi words masala (spices) and maza (fun). 

Mazala Pijja Credit: Matt Keller Lehman

There are certainly fun, fusiony spins on sports bar standards to be had here — fried, tangy achari chicken wings flavored with Indian pickling spices and served with a buffalo sauce ($14) were quickly gobbled up, along with dosa onion rings ($12). An urad dal lentil batter, of the sort used for dosas and medhu vada, caked those onion rounds to the point that they looked like doughnuts; an accompanying mango chutney proved too cloying a dip. 

There are pastas like tandoori spaghetti ($15) and malai rigatoni ($15) to keep the fun going, but another fusion menu of Indo-Chinese classics has been introduced, perhaps as a sort of failsafe. So, as we popped crispy-coated morsels of the fiery chicken 65 ($14), the jury was still out as to whether this whole Indian pizza thing would pan out in this backroom space inside the Laxmi Plaza. If anything, eating the leftovers out of the fridge the following day did prove one thing — cold fusion is possible.

(Mazala Pijja, 1155 Doss Ave., 407-674-0778, mazalapijja.com, $$)

Mazala Pijja Credit: Matt Keller Lehman

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This article appears in Nov. 26–Dec. 2, 2025.

Orlando restaurant critic. Orlando Weekly restaurant critic since 2006.