I spent last weekend visiting some friends and eating my way through Portland, OR. Friday night I finally got to check out Apizza Scholls, otherwise known as The Pizza Nazi. The restaurant had been on my to-do list since before Bourdain got there, and I have to admit I was a little afraid the buzz might have killed it.
Turns out, my fears were totally unfounded. Dare I say it, Apizza Shcolls is probably the best pizza I've ever eaten in my life.
No, really. I honestly think it may be the best I've ever had. Actually, I don't even "think" that. Flat-out. Best. Pizza. Ever. There, I said it.
Something about that oven just works magic on the thin-crust pizza. Probably the fact that it goes up to 11. That, and these cats are fucking serious about their pies. Fresh dough made daily, and when they run out, the restaurant shuts down for the night. Add in uncompromising top-notch ingredients, and a deep dedication to letting those ingredients stand up on their own. So much so that yahoos who try to break the three-ingredient rule (it's printed on the menu) are kindly refused and/or directed to another pizza place down the street. This pizza is the real deal, not some bastardized American pizza built for speed and corporate efficiency.
Our pies arrived at the table blazing hot, looking the perfect amount of black and crusty on the bottom. Yum! Parts of it were brittle and cracker-y, and other parts had a nice chew to them. Most excellent.
Two pies for four enthusiastic eaters was just about right. We even took a slice home, which (it will not go unnoticed) got gobbled up in secret later in the weekend. We had the Tartufo Bianco, topped very simply with cheeses, sea salt and truffle oil; and the Amore, which was a classic Margherita made that much better with Capicollo and fresh basil. I'm drooling just thinking about it. Which isn't a joke. And is really kind of gross.
Next up: Ducks, three-ways, and puddles of donut goo.
