When it comes to pizza, I think there are two general categories: the New York thin, and the Chicago stuffed. Though there is heated debate over which pizza is top tomato (and which baseball team has the richest tradition), I think it’s apples to oranges. One (NY) is a delicious, foldable treat, and one (Chi) is essentially a cheese pie you eat with utensils. (Or with your hands, at night, out of the fridge.)
I have never, EVER had a ‘Chicago-style’ pizza that even comes CLOSE to the real thing. Until now. Awesome pal (and smarty pants Cal grad) Brooke introduced me to Zachary’s Chicago Pizza in Berkeley last weekend, and BAM — I’m a believer.
Holy. Crap. Dat’s some good druckin pizza, over by dere. The crust is crunchy and buttery beautiful, the cheese deep and decadent, and the sauce — ooooh the sauce. It has that vine-fresh (yet simmered to perfection), farm-to-table flavor that California does so well. It tastes like tomatoes and sunshine and organic-ness and all that’s good. It is, truly, the best of both worlds.
In the words of our esteemed Governator, I’ll be back.