Remember when I said I started making my own pizza because I hadn’t found any in Los Angeles that really fit the bill? Well I am happy to report that this is no longer the case. Not only does it seem like the urban food movement is making its way through a wood-fired revival, but the cropping up of new Neapolitan pizza restaurants in Southern California is a sure sign of a very promising future.

Mother Dough in Los Feliz, one of the more gentrified hipster communities of LA, is a prime example. First, they successfully set out to provide genuine, authentic Neapolitan pizza. Then they raised the bar with killer wines, incredible salads, excellent Italian and German beers, and of course, simple and rustic desserts with things like crème fraiche and hazelnut oil.

Sünner Kölsch–medium bodied lager, a bit grassy in flavor, nice aroma, sweet to start, crisp to finish.

So what exactly is “authentic” Neapolitan pizza? There’s actually an official association in Napoli that governs this stuff called Verace Pizza Napoletana Associazione (VPN) and it states that you can only use the following ingredients in your pizza that we know as the Margherita:

- Doppio Zero or Double Zero ‘00’ flour (extremely fine, high gluten)
- Mozzarella di Bufala Campana (regional buffalo’s milk mozzarella)
- San Marzano tomatoes (grown in the soil of Mt. Vesuvius)
- Basil
- Parmigiano Reggiano
- Sea Salt and a little olive oil as a drizzle and NOT in the dough

Mother Dough’s menu even has a slightly facetious FAQ on the backside for those who want to know why the consistency and simplicity of their pizza doesn’t match the typical Pizza Hut combination pizza loaded with toppings in extra large form. The menu itself is minimal but excellent, making it very difficult to choose.

Raw Marcona almonds with lemon juice and sea salt

You will very likely see this salad on everyone’s table because it is only one of two salads offered and, in my opinion, you could put burrata on an old tennis shoe and it would still be a big seller. This is Mother Dough’s burrata salad atop heirloom tomatoes and arugula. Great salt, citrus, and spice.

At this time I would like to go on the record that I really do not like zucchini. I don’t want to say hate because it’s a strong word but I would go as far as to say partially loathe. There is only one form in which zucchini exhibits any redeeming qualities and that is on Mother Dough’s zucchini pizza.  Just a bit of manchego cheese, delicate shoe strings of zucchini topped with dried herbs like oregano and thyme, and finished with drizzles of olive oil on that unmistakable wood-fired charred chewy crust.

Then of course, the pièce de résistance, the apple of my eye, the pot of gold at the end of my own personal rainbow, La Margherita with its perfectly placed mozzarella and sweet, salty sauce.

That very slight hint of gaminess from the buffalo comes through in taste and aromatics, and the fresh basil is slightly cooked but still raw enough to prevent any bitterness.

When the dough goes into the oven, the entire pie is uniformly thin but the most fascinating thing to me about these high temperature wood-fired ovens is that these pizzas cook in less than two minutes, sometimes closer to even 60 seconds. Mother Dough’s oven is imported from Napoli and cooks at about 850˚F. The ambient heat is so hot that the entire thing cooks quickly at once, as opposed to the home oven where par-barking the plain dough first is recommended. The charring of the pizza is almost like a caramelization where a sweetness comes out that makes the whole crust taste like toasted marshmallows.

Imported handmade oven from Napoli

It is safe to say that my quest to find the ultimate Neapolitan Margherita has been fulfilled with Mother Dough but I feel a sense of duty to the people to continue to seek out top contenders. If you have any that you’d like to throw in the ring, let me know!

Next time: Grilled flatbread and pizza accoutrements!

I think it’s safe to say that I have officially become a pizzahead. After moving from San Francisco to Los Angeles and trying a few different wood-fired pizza places out, along with being given some pretty ridiculous suggestions on par with the bowling alley pizza party fare I had as a child, I had come to the sad conclusion that there isn’t a single slice in all of LA that really tickled my fancy. I didn’t even know what I was looking for, I just knew it was this one very specific type and I couldn’t find it. I know now that this type is the quintessential Neapolitan delight of wood-fired chewy char heaven.

As soon as I had a word for what I was looking for, I hit the books for a fast and furious lesson into the world of pizza making. Moreso than just learning about pizza, I learned about the fundamentals of dough–and that, to me, was priceless.

I’ll expand on the principles of Neapolitan pies in future posts but for this very first dive into pizza making, I’m going to walk through a simple pizza dough recipe that I’ve used for everything from flatbreads to baguettes. I also want to preface that there are a handful of ways in which you can make pizza but after a while, you realize they’re all pretty much different routes to the same spot in the road. This isn’t about perfection – it’s about education. And fun.

You’ll find most recipes use an obscene amount of flour because they’re for making 3-4 smaller pies or 2 thicker pies. Depending on what I want for the meal, I’ll cut it in half, thirds, or even quarter the recipe for a single thin-crust 10” pizza. The recipe below should yield you one medium-sized medium-crust pie.

INGREDIENTS

1 teaspoon Yeast
1/2 teaspoon Sugar
2 1/3 cups All-purpose flour
1 teaspoon Salt
Warm water

METHOD

Add 1 teaspoon of yeast and ½ teaspoon of sugar to a ¼ cup of warm water. Mix gently and let it do its thing for about 10 minutes.  You’ll know it’s ready when the liquid becomes foamy.

Meanwhile, put 2 1/3 cups of all-purpose flour in a glass bowl. Add 1 teaspoon of salt. You can also add oil but that’s totally optional. It’s just a form of fat and is always subject to debate in the pizza world. If you choose, add ½ tablespoon at the same time you add the other wet ingredients.

Mix the salt and flour up a bit with the spoon, add the oil if you want, then add the yeast mixture and 5 ounces of warm water.

Stir the mixture in the bowl with a fork or spoon until you’ve got as much combined as you can. Then dump it all out onto your surface.

KNEADING
Truth be told, I had the darndest time with kneading techniques when I was first learning how to make pasta dough. I had never properly learned how to knead. If you already know how – I’m very happy for you. If you don’t, the best way I can describe it is to continuously mold all the loose bits together until you get a cohesive mass. Then, in a wax-on/wax-off movement, roll the ball back and forth with your palm, rotating hands each time.  If the ball is still too sticky, add a tiny bit of flour each time. Just be careful – you can always add flour but you can’t take it away if you’ve gone too far.

Once you’ve kneaded for a good 5-8 minutes depending on the size of your dough ball, the end result is a perfectly smooth and soft but slightly tacky ball. You then want to pinch the top of the ball down towards the bottom as you can create a seal to keep in the air, and repeat that a few more times as you get closer to the seal.

When you’ve rounded off your dough, place it back into the original bowl and cover with a dishtowel.  Leave for about 1.5 – 2 hours until it’s doubled in size.  Now you have to re-form the dough into a new ball so it can complete its second rise.  My recommendation is to allow at least 30 minutes before you’re ready to start making your pizza.

THE OVEN
Most likely you do not own a wood-fired oven or a jerry-rigged Weber with a hole in the side so you have to do as we plebeians do and use your conventional oven. And since your oven racks probably aren’t made out of soapstone, you’re going to need a pizza stone or an inverted baking pan wrapped in foil. Get your oven as hot as you can get it and let the stone or pan heat up for a good 30-60 minutes. You want the effect of the dough hitting the high temp underneath so that you build a good crust, preferably with some char.

Once your oven is hot enough (500˚F), get your ball of dough that has just completed its second rise, coat it liberally with flour, and start to gently push it down flat with your fingertips.  You don’t want to push out all the air, but you can see how the nice air bubbles in your dough are present.

Slowly start to stretch the dough outwards in a circular motion until you get to the diameter and thickness you want. Make sure to keep the center of the pizza at the same thickness of the outside otherwise you’ll have a soggy mess in the middle.

Place it on your peel and with one swift motion, shake it on to your piping hot baking surface.  Many recipes will say to add semolina or cornmeal to your peel to prevent the dough from sticking but I’ve found if you flour the dough as you stretch it, you don’t need any extra steps. *Note: I tend to par-bake my dough for a few minutes before adding toppings so that I can balance the cooking time of the toppings and dough better.

TOPPINGS
Obviously, toppings are totally and utterly subjective. Since my particular passion is Neapolitan, and this style of pizza will be my primary focus going forward as I visit some great wood-fired Neapolitan style places in the LA area, I’m showcasing the simple yet delicious toppings perfect for a Margherita: a sweet and salty tomato sauce, fresh basil, and delicate burrata cheese. The traditional cheese is of course mozzarella di bufala (buffalo’s milk mozzarella), but I am in love with burrata so I use that instead. I also use red onions sometimes because, while not traditional, I love the flavor it adds.

You can find King Arthur flour at Whole Foods but I’ve found Trader Joe’s all-purpose works just fine. San Marzano tomatoes are required for an official Neapolitan Margherita but I’ve come to realize there isn’t a tremendous difference between this and other domestic, organic brands.  I buy DiStefano burrata from Joan’s on 3^rd because it’s made locally in Baldwin Park by a true Italian on his family-owned farm and it’s the only product they make.

After cooking your pie for about 10 minutes depending on how hot you let your oven get and how loaded your pizza is, it should look like this. The outside has that nice crispy char while the inside is still a bit steamy and chewy.

Going forward, I’ll be alternating post topics between some of my favorite ways to use this pizza dough recipe and some of my visits to restaurants with delicious pizza pies.

Next up: my review of Mother Dough, a pizzeria in Hollywood.

It’s Monday morning, and by “morning” I mean 12:30pm. Monday is the first day of the service industry weekend. I’m coming down from two double shifts and a closing shift at the slow food pizza duo Pizzaiolo and Boot and Shoe Service. My girlfriend won’t wake up, and we are out of coffee.

After navigating the dreadlocks, bird tattoos and ironic pop music on the record player at my local cafe, I find myself in line at our local gluten-free bakery. I hate this place. I don’t know where the end of the line is, and the classical guitar soundtrack is killing me. I pick up a bag of “dinner rolls” and give them a little squeeze. The bouncy nuggets are covered in either tapioca starch or rice flour, and they are $6 for a bag. I’m looking around at all the tags, each stamped with the earthtone butterfly logo and labeled with GF/DF/NF (gluten-free/dairy-free/nut free) or some combination. Gluten free, Dairy free, Nut free. Some of the pastries even say Vegan. A couple of ladies are chatting behind me, “You know I had this bread and it really wasn’t that bad…”

I get to the counter, and even though the whole place is GF/DF/NF/LALALALA, I still have to ask a question, “Do you guys use oat flour in those cupcakes?” Unfortunately I’m allergic to gluten-free oats as well.

“Um,” the counter girl opens up a dingy white binder, “let me check.” This binder has all of the ingredients of everything they sell listed in very plain language, and they keep it out on the counter for everyone to flip through. That’s kinda nice. “Um…” she keeps making thinking noises, “no, nope, no, no, nope, no, Nope!”

OK. I get two slices of pizza and an orange cream cupcake. The pizza is like insult to injury, a pale and foamy looking dough with bad cheese and slimy tomatoes.

Keep in mind, I work at Pizzaiolo where perfect, sizzling pies fly like magical saucers out of a glowing orange wood oven.

Topped with things like pancetta, grana, squid, stinging nettles, heirloom potatoes, wild arugula; these pies are probably some of the best in the world. They make it easy for me to feel absolutely victimized by the melted cheese on a kitchen sponge I’m about to eat.

Welcome to my life, or the life of anyone who has a food allergy. Describing food as not that bad or almost tastes like the real thing, or you can’t even tell(!) is pretty common (its also why I don’t make a habit of eating replacement foods, more on that later). BUT! It’s waaaaaay better than being sick. I was in and out of the hospital most of my life with misdiagnosed illnesses. Was I anemic? IBS? Chrones? No one knew. Eventually I just chocked it up to stress, after all aren’t most digestive issues related to stress? Wait, what if digestive issues are related to what we eat, aka what we are actually trying to digest?!? Think about it.

Unfortunately, digestion is not the only thing that is affected by diet.

I got a text from a friend recently:

“Dearest friends, I’m really sick and I’m going to the hospital for a damn blood transfusion. Send the love :)”

BLOOD TRANSFUSION?? She had been losing blood through her digestive system for almost a year. It made her anemic and she may have Crohn’s disease. The verdict: no smoking, no drinking, and a pill a day for the rest of her life. I’m doubtful. The doctor also said, “There is no cure, but it could almost disappear through diet and exercise.” Wait, it could almost disappear?? Sounds like a cure to me. Just saying.

My dad texted me this:

“Hey! How ru! I prolly shoulda told u before now, but last friday I had to have some stents put in my left leg to open up arterial blockage in that leg. @ that time they also found that I need some stents in my heart also (remember how much trouble I had walking in carmel??) I did not tell u now cause I figured all that would accomplish would b 2 make you worry. I’m fine went back 2 work today. Prolly gonna try 2 get the heart stents done within next couple of weeks. Luv, dad”

A stent is a tiny metal woven tube used to open up clogged arteries or blood vessels. My dad’s doctor told him he needed to watch his diet. The problem: Dad is a nurse, and he eats at the hospital every day. Imagine that! The very place where we go to get well is making people sick with the food.

So, there is alot of confusing information about what is healthy and what is not. There is also some pretty big players in the game: Michael Pollan and his vendetta against corn; Monsanto, the keeper of the seeds; the FDA and the big corporations that tell us what is “healthy” while selling it to us as well; Michelle Obama and her new food chart; raw food; slow food; fast food; food trends; locavorism; veganism; the dairy lobby… it goes on. Luckily, my hobby is researching food and, well, eating. I’ll tell you everything I know.

*Lizzy is based in Oakland, CA. She recently launched The Grease Box, a mobile kitchen cooking up some soulful fried chicken, waffles, et al. All GF/ DF/ NF of course.

The afternoon I took this picture in Hell’s Kitchen was one of the steamiest days this summer, but that didn’t stop New Yorkers from loving HOT 99¢ slices. I have a feeling I might look back at this picture in 20 years and be shocked at how cheap a slice was (I’m even a little shocked now!).

Photo by Erin Gleeson.

Seeing an old friend after some time is like nothing else. You catch up, see how they are doing, and talk about old times. I made my way to Okinawa a while back to check old the old island and made it my first priority to see Daisuke and his newly opened pizzeria, Bacar.

I first met Daisuke while on my first date with CH (my now-wife) who was a regular at Tokyo’s famed pizzeria Savoy, in Azabu Juban, where Daisuke worked. After that first pizza, I haven’t been the same. The simplicity, perfectly thrown dough, and Daisuke’s dominance at the oven was unrivaled. He is a master at what he does. Let’s just say God sent him to this earth to make you drool with anticipation.

Daisuke is the laid back, good-hearted, always-smiling type whose talents are only matched by his best friend Tamaki, of Savoy. Tamaki recommended that I visit Bacar on my upcoming trip to Okinawa, without telling Daisuke.

When I walked into Bacar in the middle of the afternoon, the surprise on Daisuke’s face was pretty epic, as the tallest beardo in the country strolled into his establishment.

He proudly asked me to have a seat as he poured me a glass of red wine. Just like the carefully selected ingredients in the pizza I knew from Savoy, he pointed out every carefully crafted detail of his dream pizzeria, from his massive steel and brick oven, to the old reclaimed theatre seats:

Mailbox:

Light bulbs:

Door knobs:

Marble counter top for kneading:

Tiles on the walls:

Kitchen:

Oil can:

It is a cook’s wet dream and it was all his. He accomplished exactly what he left Tokyo to do.

The menu consists of Margharita and Marinara. You order both.

Daisuke pulls out the dough, kneeds it to size and adds flour.

Every pizza that his guests eat is carefully crafted by Daisuke, using the freshest ingredients. Here it’s basil, tomato, garlic, sauce:

Daisuke about to toss some salt:

Adding olive oil:

Daisuke preparing the wood-fired oven for the pizza:

Pizza out: get the plate.

Lord almighty.

Are you drooling yet?

The next day, I returned again for dinner, after a visit to the most massive aquarium I have ever seen.

Daisuke prepared the pizza, selected the wine and encouraged me to taste the difference between the flavors used in Tokyo and used in Okinawa. Because I was the first Savoy regular to taste his new sauce blend, he was a bit nervous. I was dying to try, but a little apprehensive because of my firm belief that Savoy is untouchable and the inability to hide disappointment from reaching my face (this is why I open gifts in the dark).

Due to the extreme differences in climate between Tokyo and Okinawa, he altered the sauce. He made it a bit more pungeant, a little more acidic–but not sour. He had maintained the sauce despite the humidity and heat of Okinawa! It was refreshing and genius. The man has a gift.

My response and smile said enough. I was thoroughly into my pizza.

Daisuke, topping me off again. Me, on my third pizza.

Passalacqua coffee is just another detail of perfection. This espresso brings it!

I stayed hours, drinking, eating, and catching up. I miss Bacar and Savoy, but I especially miss my friends.

Pizzeria Bruno was the one place I wanted to go during my visit to San Diego earlier this month. Mike Senese, television personality and hardcore pizzahead, had mentioned that it was, “easily the best pizza I’ve found in Southern California,” so of course I had to try it.

I walked in and the first thing I noticed was this Forza Napoli soccer scarf.

Flashback to 2001 when I went to the AS Roma vs. Napoli game at the soccer stadium in Roma. I’m a big Totti fan (and Nakata played for Roma back then too), but for the sake of conversation, let’s say Napoli won. The Romans then went apeshit in their rage, so much that it felt like the stadium would implode and collapse unto itself. Of course the Carabinieri (Italy’s lazy pseudo-FBI police force) were there in full armor, ready for heavy combat to try to prevent blood from shedding on the streets of Breaderico Panini. Nonetheless useless as usual.

They take their football seriously in Europe. Very, very seriously. [Ask me about the AC Milan vs. Juventus game sometime. DRAMA!].

The scarf reminded me of all of this, particularly the Italians’ unshakable dedication to their teams and their cities. And the one thing that is so quintessential to the city of Napoli, aside from their soccer team and creepyass train station (winner of the You-Will-Definitely-Get-Mugged-Here Award), is their pizza. It’s a very unique style– the paper-thin crust probably being the first and most important distinction.

I knew this would be a night of heavy pizza critiquing, as I went with two friends who I had traveled with to Napoli back in 2000. We all still treasure our memories of that trip, and, of course, the pizza. So the bar was set pretty high for Bruno. But that’s ok, right? We should all have high standards when eating out. Especially for pizza.

We started with the Market Salad while we patiently waited for our pizzas. Generous shavings of parmigiano.

Spicy olive oil was placed on the table. This was a special sign from the pizza gods, as pizza houses in the U.S. NEVER have chili oil, which is such a staple in pizzerias in Italy.

The classic Margherita: Tomato sauce, fresh basil and mozzarella di Bufala. Please take note of the char bubbles. Importantissimo.

The mozzerella was $5 extra but totally worth it if you’re interested in eating your pizza with the BEST CHEESE IN THE WORLD. At least on pizza.

The Salami: Tomato sauce, mozzerella, reggiano, soppressata, and olives. Again, the char bubbles.

Isn’t she luscious?

La Campania: Tomato sauce, mozzerella, mushrooms, fennel sausage, roasted onions.

This pizza was my favorite. The sausage was flavorful, as were the roasted onions, that are so much sweeter than just tossing them on raw. The mushrooms were cut thick, adding a great texture to the entire thing. Bravo.

Interior of the crust: this is where Bruno distinguishes itself from just another pizzeria, or even the standard napoletana pizza– the texture is actually rather spongy. There was such an airiness to it, we loved this! It had a really a unique bite.

I have heard comments that this pizza is “soggy”. Good pizza should never be decribed this way, but actually, this style of pizza tends to get pretty wet, that is true, from all the sauce and olive oil and cheese. It’s pretty normal, so don’t be alarmed– although come on, who wants a “dry” pizza?? Not me! I want the sauce and cheese to meld together and explode in my mouth, thank you.

Aerial view. Forgot to take a pizza upskirt picture but you can see the bottom of one of the slices on my plate below. I would say it was charred just right– pretty pale in color, and dotted with sporadic blackened spots.

Sasha exclaimed: “This is even better than the pizza in Napoli!” Whoa.

Now, the fun part. We started talking to the owner/pizzaiolo, Peter Lutz behind the counter who gave me the grand tour!

Meet Pete: True pizza napoletana aficionado.

Pete’s pizza-partner-in-crime, Bruno.

Named after Pete’s wife’s grandfather, Bruno was custom-built in Napoli by some famed wood-fired-pizza-oven building family, put on a freighter ship, and landed in San Diego months later. I believe Pete told me there are only one or two other of these ovens in the States.

Bruno gets over 900˚F! HOT!

Definitely not sticking my hand in there.

Fire wood and Pete’s metal pizza peel.

Pete brought out some of his key ingredients that make up his pizza. Only the best for Bruno and its clientele.

He also uses San Marzano tomatoes for the sauce, which is pretty much the standard now at Napoletana-style pizzerias. But Pete did make it a point that he doesn’t like to drop names and brands– he thinks that good, quality ingredients should just be a given and his establishment shouldn’t be defined by such specific brands. Well stated, my friend.

Pete also accidentally slipped and told me what kind of flour he uses. OOPS.

I have to say that the desserts were forgettable, as they also are at Tony’s in San Francisco. We got the cannoli and panna cotta. At this point, I’m not really expecting great desserts at pizzerias, so it’s fine.

We pretty much closed the place down, as usual.

Sofia.

Thank you Mike for the awesome recommendation, and big love for Pete, who has brought his devotion and art of great pizza napoletana to Southern California. Better than Napoli, says Sasha! (Don’t let them hear you Sash, i Napoletani sono pazzi).

Viva Napoli! Viva Bruno!

When Jade’s comes into town, it usually means trouble. Trouble in the form of drinking too much, going out for extravagant meals, and not remembering where all your money went the next morning. She’s the ultimate enabler.

So… Jade’s in town. Mix that with Yoko and Washi right up the street, and I’ve got a Triple Threat on my hands. There’s no turning back.

We all went out on Saturday, and as expected, had an epic evening at my neighborhood pizza joint, Boot and Shoe Service. So epic that none of us really quite remember the details, or timeline. It’s all a drunken haze. But that’s the true sign of a GREAT NIGHT!

The main points I remember vividly from the meal are:

1.) Excellent service: Laura, our server, is a professional enabler.

2.) Impeccable, AWESOME food.

3.) Lots of laughing. Cackling. Were we being too loud? Yoko remembers “shrieking a few times.”

4.) We went through THREE bottles of wine. See #1. She’s good.

5.) We closed the place down after being there for over three hours. What could we possibly have to talk about for that long?

That said, I’m the most disciplined food blogger ever, and somehow remembered to take pics of all the food! Lucky for you, cause seriously, this meal was one of the best I’ve had since moving back to the Bay.

APPETIZERS

Shrimp and green tomatoes battered and fried. The tomatoes were still crispy. SO GOOD!

Melt in your mouth meatballs.

Wood oven-cooked egg with pancetta and frisee. We dipped toasties in this– very simple, clean.

Perhaps the belle of the ball, the Bufala mozzarella. @jesus shed His light upon us at this very moment. It was a blob of lavish dairy delight.

Let there be light.

With the first course, we had a bottle Albariño. Light and crisp and perfect for summer. (Although it’s fucking freezing here WTF).

It was around this point in the meal that we ordered bottle #2.

Thanks to Laura’s knowledgeable suggestions, we decided on the Tempranillo.

PIZZA!

Boot and Shoe is the sister restaurant of Pizzaiolo, a super popular pizzeria in Temescal– so we knew we were in good hands.

Marinara, housemade sausage, onions, lightly shaved parmesan (?). Again, simple and clean. Light, thin crust, not too chewy, speckled with char.

Our pizzagasm, Laura’s favorite on the menu– the rosemary potatoes with moliterno cheese, pancetta and parsley.

OMG. オーエムジー。FLAVOR EXPLOSION.

At a certain point during the pizzas, we ordered another bottle of wine. Washi and I gave each other this “let’s discreetly order another bottle” look. Neither Yoko or Jade noticed. Such trickery.

DESSERT

We ordered all the desserts on the menu. The chocolate tart sprinkled with sea salt had the butteriest crust– unreal.

FLASH! God, how embarrassing. Let me be honest and say that I don’t remember the canoli or that soft serve thing at the top. Neither does Yoko. WASTED!

Ok, now guess how much all this cost us per person? GUESS. Come on. $100? $120 right? At least?

$70 PER PERSON including drinks AND tip. Is that insanely reasonable for all this, or what? Four appetizers, two pizzas, THREE bottles of vino, and three desserts? Yoko and Washi are used to Tokyo prices and Jade and me from NYC, so this was just shocking. I will put Boot and Shoe on par with Franny’s in Brooklyn, in atmosphere, and menu– but SO MUCH CHEAPER. Plus they make some great classic cocktails.

Thanks Boot & Shoe for one of the more memorable meals/nights we’ve had in a very long time! Casual, unpretentious, awesome knowledgable service, well-prepared food using local ingredients. LOVE! We’ll be back soon (I know… you CAN’T WAIT)!

To celebrate our birthdays, my great pal Matt and I met up in Chicago for a weekend of eating and drinking. Followed by more eating and drinking. And drinking. Then, eating. Ad infinitum. It’s just how we roll.

Matt had just gone to Chicago in 2009, when he dined in the Holy House of Grant Achatz, so that was out of the question this time around. Sad for me. But Chicago is so much more than $200+ tasting menus, complete with foam and lavender pillows, so I was not too discouraged.

Let The Chicago Ten commence! I’ll be writing about ten places we went to, ranked according to goodness. Let’s start at the bottom with #10: Lou Malnati’s Pizzeria.

Now, I’m not gonna spend too much time on this post because it was a downright depressing meal. It was our last night in town, and in hindsight, I’m not really sure what possessed us to go here. Maybe we were being punished by the gluttony gods for all we had stuffed down our throats in the previous two days. Yah, that’s probably it.

We were looking for a deep-dish pizzeria near Bucktown. When in Chicago, you gotta do deep dish, right? After some rigorous research on the I N T E R N E T, we came up with this place Lou Malnati’s. Slice actually recommended that we go to this other place in the area, which I totally rejected since it wasn’t deep-dish. Lesson here: when it comes to pizza, you’ve really just gotta listen to the one and only Adam Kuban (founder of Slice, THE DEFINITIVE pizza blog) and crew, no matter what your preferences are. Period.

There are Lou’s scattered all around town, but we went to the one in Lincoln Park. After waiting for a table for about ten minutes, we were escorted to the dining room. Right smack in the middle of the room, was this scene here:

A fucking COUCH, chairs and a flatscreen tv, in the middle of a RESTAURANT. Is this not AMAZING?? Have you ever seen such a thing? We were totally enthralled. It was seriously set up like a living room, it was so EFFING WEIRD.

Both of us swore we weren’t that hungry. So you know what we did? We ordered two INDIVIDUAL pizzas. fail. Fail. FAIL! But how were we supposed to know what was coming? We got one sausage, and one “Lou”, with spinach, mushrooms, and tomatoes.

We were told the pizzas would take 45 minutes or something absurd like that. I was starting to understand the importance of the couch and tv setup. So I took my beer…

… and watched tv for a little bit.

Awesome, right???

Then the pizzas came out. Exactly like this:

Not in those steel pans, but taken out and placed on tiny little fucking white plates. I was horrified– it literally looked like we ordered from the kids menu. At this moment I realized how important aesthetics are to me. This was just so depressing to look at! They could at least bring them out in the actual pans! What busters!

Matt’s more of a deep dish pizza lover that I am, and he seemed to like it ok. But I was just traumatized by how pathetic they looked. It’s so sad– but it was our bad for cheaping out and getting the individual size, I guess. I’ve honestly blocked this experience out of my mind. Needless to say I was in a foul mood for the rest of the night.

Alright though, this doesn’t look so bad. The sausage was just a huge flattened piece of sausage, caked over with thick tomato sauce.

The Chicago Slice dude calls Lou’s “The Home of the Flawless Deep Dish“, and it was recommended to me by another friend who grew up in Chicago. So maybe it’s not so bad. I mean, we clearly fucked up on the ordering. I’ve usually got a killer instinct for ordering at restaurants, but once in a blue moon, I’ll fuck up, I admit it! This was just one of those times.

But at least now we can say that we’ve been to a restaurant with a super comfortable leather couch in the middle of it.

LOU MALNATI’S
958 West Wrightwood Avenue
Chicago, IL
T: 773.832.4030

Look at this magnifiscent Margherita pizza. The crust is alive, bubbling with hot molton charcoal flecks. This here, is true love.

Tony opened his namesake pizzeria last year in North Beach. He uses flour imported from IT, and only makes 73 Margheritas a day. It’s a complicated formula that got him to this number– the addition of the numbers of the date when he won the highly coveted World Pizza Cup competition in Napoli in 2007– which is totally unheard of for an American to win. AMAZING!

Love the pizza. Love the meatballs. Love the cocktail list. Love the panna cotta. Love LARDO.

Love Tony’s.

Don’t love when I show up and they’ve run out of the 73 Margheritas. They’ll still make one for you, but using Caputo flour, not the special San Felice flour. Noticeable difference? Eh, my amateur pizza palate says no (I’ve had both). But still, I’m Japanese, so I’m all about the limited edition.

Moral of the story: Get to Tony’s early. Dare I say that this might be the best pizza I’ve had since Di Fara in Brooklyn??

More pics of Tony’s fattassery on the UM Flickr page.

TONY’S PIZZA NAPOLETANA
1570 Stockton Street
San Francisco, CA
T: 415.835.9888

Now tell me: why oh why would I ever move back to NYC when all of its wondrous gems can come to ME!!! When I heard last week that PDTman John Deragon would be guest bartending at the popular SF joint Beretta for ONE NIGHT ONLY, I screamed a silent hooray (!), and stopped over with Vanessa and Travis for a nightcap. And a pizza. Um, make that two pizzas.

PDT is an awesome little speakeasy in the East Village in NYC. This tiny bar resides within a hotdog shop on St. Mark’s Place and you can only get in via an old skool phone booth. It stands for (P)lease (D)on’t (T)ell, hence it’s a secret. Or hence it’s NOT a secret and it’s near impossible to get a reservation there (get ready to redialredialredial at 2pm SHARP to snag a table). I’m really usually not into these sort of scenes, but PDT is well worth the hassle.

Although at PDT it’s half about the atmosphere, Beretta was an equally lovely, bustling backdrop for Mr. Deragon (who I believe co-founded PDT).

The cocktail menu for the evening.

(I’m writing this out for you, @Paystyle)

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WITCH’S KISS: Blanco Tequilla, Lemon juice, Strega, Apple butter

REMEMBER MAINE: VSOP Rhum, Apple Cider, Allspice Dram, Angostura bitters

FRENCH MAID: Cognac, Lime juice, Cucumber, Mint, Falernum, Ginger beer

SOLSTICE: Rye, Apple brandy, Dubonnet Rouge, Amaro Nonino, Grenadine

NEWARK: Apple brandy, Sweet vermouth, Luxardo Maraschino, Fernet Branca

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The Anatomy of a Cocktail: Mr. Deragon mixing our drinks.

The French Maid. The ice cubes were perfectly square! I love that.

I got the Witch’s Kiss which I remember to be creamy deliciousness.

At PDT, you must order a hotdog- it’s their signature thing. So at Beretta, you’ve gotta get a pizza, right? So we ordered a margherita and it came, it was pristine, we were starving, we dove in, and then… I knocked over an ENTIRE GLASS OF WATER over the pizza!!!

It was MORTIFYING slash hilarious. Nope… still mortifying.

I think this was pre-spillage but Travis captures the scene well. DUNDUNDUN.

But the guys behind the bar are the sweetest gentlemen ever and ordered us another!!!! I heart them and owe them bigtime.

Here it is, in all its glory. Saucy. Crispy. Red. Burrata.

Good times– never a dull moment. Thank you Beretta and PDT! Please come again Mr. Deragon!

*Travis LoDolce is based in San Francisco. Check out his stunning photographs of landscapes, architecture, fireworks and the Oakland A’s here.

PS- For kicks, here are my shots of PDT when I went in March.

David Chang’s infamous kimchi-bacon dog in the middle. Wylie Dufresne’s dog is on the left, with deep fried mayo. Holler.