Burnt Pizza
Wednesday, July 16, 2008 at 11:49AM 
The line was long and they didn't take reservations. They said the wait would only be around forty-five minutes, so we decided to stick it out as we'd heard it could be much longer than that. It was with great anticipation that I went to Portland's renowned Apizza Shoals, for what is certainly one of the city's most revered pizzas. The long lines and great press promised a real treat.
After the expected wait, we sat down, ordered and the much anticipated pizza finally arrived. My first bite surprised me. My second confirmed the first. The pizza tasted burned to me. A quick look at the bottom revealed a heavily charred crust. I ventured a complaint to the waiter, who fetched a manager, who informed us, "that's the way we do it." A quick look around the dining room confirmed that this was the case as every table was snarfing down their equally charred pizzas with great pleasure.
Before you think this is a bad restaurant review, it's not. The people at Apizza Shoals are passionately dedicated to making great pizza. Their's is style inspired by great pizzerias in New York and New Jersey and the heavily charred crust is part of the character of their pizza. They go out of their way to use the freshest, high-quality ingredients they can find. For example, they can make only so much fresh dough by hand a day and when it runs out it's closing time. The extra effort they put into their food is reflected by the long lines and packed tables.
What I like best about Apizza Shoals is that they have a distinct vision and passion for the food they create. What I don't like is the pizza and that's my problem, not theirs.
Great chefs and winemakers must make something they believe in, not something designed to try to please everyone. In fact, having a distinct vision means by definition you will be crafting something that some people will love and some will hate. Taking such a position is a badge of courage and personality is a characteristic to be treasured in all things culinary.
This is my problem with wine reviews based on points as it imply's some sort of absolute. That rating a wine 90 points is some kind of quantifiable statistic that effectively communicates the overall quality of a wine is clearly preposterous. In this case my "score" for Apizza Shoals pizza would be irrelevant as it simply is not to my taste. This does not make it bad pizza, as proven by its many admirers. The use of points as a marketing crutch by producers, importers. restaurants and retailers has fueled the boring standardization of so much of today's wine, which more-often-than-not is made using a recipe for scoring success than with passion or vision.
Even though Apizza Shoals was not my favorite, I would rather eat their distinctive style of pizza than the bland pies put out by places trying to please everyone. Needless to say, I feel the same way about wine.
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Reader Comments (9)
But sometimes, it's bad or poorly made or flawed rather than creative, To me the role of the critic, whatever their methods, is to be the kid who yells out that the emperor is naked.
There are still too many consumers unwilling to trust their taste buds and those who proclaim themselves to be artisans or visionaries still need to be held accountable.
I agree with bb - too many people follow trendy news like lemmings and then don't have the guts to say "WTF is this!?" and then take their business elsewhere, where the product is good.
While I too respect someone with vision, not all visions are creative, nor worthwhile.
I agree having a vision on its own is not enough. It must be matched with skill and knowledge.
Interesting post. I've only been to Apizza Scholls once. With kids, it's either too long a wait, or too long waiting when we're paying for babysitting. That one visit was delicious. The bottom of the pizza had some char, but in a good way and not nearly too much to take away from the great flavors.
However, you make a good point because the pizza to my taste was on the edge. And perhaps some nights are more charred than others, or over time they've gone more in that direction. Oddly enough, I was at St. Honore bakery in Portland this morning and the baugettes and many of the almond croissants were, to my eye, overcooked. I then though of Nancy Silverton's Bread book from the La Brea Bakery where she describes customers coming in and commenting "that looks a bit burned, dear." No, that's the way she wants it. Pictures of the breads on the inside front and back cover confirm it -- some downright burned bread. But that's what she wants, and people apparently love it. I'm not one to tell people their taste is wrong, though it's true that sometimes we can, as groups, think we like things only later to find that we didn't really like it as much as we thought. Instead, I know what I like, and at St. Honore I politely asked specifically for the almond croissant that wasn't dark brown. It was delicious.
I did a post on my blog back in December. I live the neighborhood and I like what these guys are doing.
If you want to check blog: http://eatrdie.blogspot.com/2007/10/mythic-bacon-pizza.html