A year ago, my brother Teddy and I set out on a quest to find the best burger in Wayzata. We visited nine restaurants, had our fair share of disagreements, and ultimately walked away with full stomachs and several options to recommend and revisit.
Having so enjoyed our time together, I recently decided to text Teddy to see if he wanted to partake in a sequel. I suggested a few possibilities for our next taste-testing adventure, including French fries and chocolate ice cream. His response?
"Thanks, Alison, but I have to say no."
After 33 years of life alongside a brother with Down syndrome, it was the classic Teddy brevity and honesty I should have come to expect, yet still caught me off guard. I had clearly forgotten that, for him, our last quest had been more about the burgers, and far less about sibling shared experiences. And this reply was a perfect reminder, both of Teddy's priorities and one of his greatest strengths. In just eight words, he effortlessly reinforced his modus operandi — he knows what he wants and doesn't bother with anything that doesn't bring him happiness.
Shrugging off (or at least attempting to) the hurt (at his rejection) and jealousy (at his establishment of boundaries), I returned to the drawing board, confident that I simply had to find the right incentive. Then it hit me: pizza. He and his house family — Max, Paul and Christine — had pizza every Friday night. One of Teddy's first jobs had been at Joey Nova's in Excelsior. He had a longstanding relationship with pizza and quickly was on board, thrilled to "eat it all!"
His excitement fed mine, providing the extra jolt we'd both need to hit eight of our 10 chosen establishments in under three weeks. It would be a lot, but worth it, particularly because I was entering this quest with a larger plan: to subtly push Teddy outside his comfort zone. Rather than staying in Wayzata, a completely familiar environment, I wanted to expand our radius, taking Teddy to some of the top pizza joints in the Twin Cities area. I hoped to encourage him to sample new restaurants, immerse in new atmospheres and explore new styles. I wanted to stretch his boundaries, but in the confines and comfort of something he already loved — pizza.
And so we went forth, opting to always order pepperoni pizza, because with just bread, cheese, meat and red sauce, it's essentially an Italian cheeseburger. With each, we analyzed the various ingredients, along with the size, shape and overall flavor, those categories guiding our discussions and helping to determine our favorites.
Throughout our quest, I savored sampling each slice. But more so, I reveled in observing Teddy's reaction — to the food, to the people, and to the experience. Once again, and not surprisingly, he liked them all. Pure joy spread across his face as every pizza was placed before us. No matter the spice level, the cheese type or the amount of sauce, his initial reactions included words such as perfect, delicious and just right. He ate every shape, type and flavor without the slightest hint of displeasure or critique.
While undeniably frustrating to someone who'd approached the quest with the intention of ranking the cities' top spots, it also led me to consider just how often I compare, and how unproductive it can be. While I'd focused on faults in order to prioritize, Teddy had arrived at each establishment genuinely eager to sample another pizza, with absolutely no desire to place one above another; each was a treat, and all were uniquely delicious.
I'd come into this quest to push Teddy, and yet once again found myself being pushed by him, realizing truths that extend well beyond pizza consumption: Life becomes much happier when you choose to enjoy rather than compare.
The pepperoni pizza adventure
Alison and Teddy Spencer visited 10 of the Twin Cities area's most popular pizza joints, sampling a pepperoni pie at each one. Here's their take on each of them (in no particular order):
The Maximum at Punch Pizza, $12.75: Not offering a classic pepperoni, we were advised that the Maximus would be our closest option. The 10-inch, six-slice pizza had, in Teddy's opinion, the perfect cheese-to-topping ratio and a thin, slightly too crispy crust. Aptly named, the pepperoni was spiced to the max (at least for us Midwesterners). The intensity built with each bite, leading me to eat my crusts (something I rarely do) and Teddy to brush his teeth immediately upon returning home, all to quell the spice. Despite the kick, we both could have eaten at least one more slice, not quite feeling full after the three we each enjoyed. (13 metro-area locations, punchpizza.com)
The Pepperoni at Boludo, $19: This pizza's unique shape and Parmesan-coated crust drew our instant attention, positive from me and questionable from Teddy. He quickly scraped off the excess cheese before taking his first bite, which still tasted too cheesy for his liking. I kept every bit of mine and was in heaven. The thicker yet airy crust made each slice slightly harder (and messier) to eat, but the hint of sea salt was a touch I thoroughly enjoyed. With four substantial slices a piece, we left excessively stuffed. (8 W. 38th St., Mpls., and 530 S. 4th St., Mpls., boludo.com)
The Double Pep at Red Wagon Pizza Co., $21: This pizza can be described in one word: pepperoni. So much pepperoni. The quantity, thankfully, came without spice and far exceeded the amount of accompanying cheese, neither of which was a bad thing in our minds. The multiple layers of meat did, however, make each slice quite filling and led us to leave a bit of the 14-inch pizza behind. Despite a crust that's slightly too soft, the flavors combined to create a truly classic pizza, and one of Teddy's front-runners, evidence that his more "traditional" preferences carry over into pizza, as well. (5416 Penn Av. S., Mpls., redwagon-mpls.com)
The Pepperoni at Josefina, $18: A favorite of mine and Teddy's, this pizza had it all: the ideal amount of pepperoni, a hint of spice, well-melted cheese and a thin, albeit quite soft crust. Its minimal sauce was noteworthy to Teddy and also quite a perk, as it allowed for the other elements to stand out. While leaning more toward the "traditional pepperoni" vibe, this pizza had a delightfully subtle, almost smoky additional flavor. It was a seasoning that neither of us could identify but one that both distinguished it from the pack and also added to the overall experience. (739 E. Lake St., Wayzata, josefinawayzata.com)
The Hot Salami at Black Sheep Pizza, $12.75: Worried about the dried chili flakes that accompany Black Sheep's version, we opted to make our own, a 12-inch with the standard cheese, sauce and meat. The adjective "hot" in front of salami had us nervous enough. The pieces of pepperoni were massive — three or four completely covered the slice — and, despite the name, tasted quite mild. It also boasted a fairly unique flavor, which stood out whenever a bite was predominantly meat. Teddy wished for slightly more cheese, but we agreed that the crust, in both crispness and thinness, was ideal. (600 Washington Av. N., Mpls., 2550 Nicollet Av. S., Mpls., blacksheeppizza.com)
Old Reliable + Pepperoni at Pizzeria Lola, $18: We ordered the Old Reliable plus pepperoni and quickly agreed that even with the supplemental topping, its name rang true — this was nothing if not an exceptionally dependable pepperoni pizza. I could have used a bit more meat, but tasting a slight spice, Teddy was content with the pepperoni's sporadic appearance. Its thin and crispy crust, ample cheese and occasional pepperoni were, simply put, classic. Absolutely no frills, no mess (it was one of the "cleanest" slices we've eaten), quality ingredients and great taste. (5557 Xerxes Av. S., Mpls., pizzerialola.com)
Pepperoni at Slice, slice $4.75, pizza $19.99: A takeout-only establishment, casual is the name of the game at Slice. But don't mistake that for lack of quality. This remains one of Teddy's absolute favorites, in large part due to the softer, yet still thin crust. At 18 inches, each piece was massive (a bonus in Teddy's mind) and certainly required two hands to eat. The mozzarella cheese was nicely complemented by the pepperoni and additional seasoning, and would be perfect for a fun night in. Think quintessential NYC slice but as an entire pizza. Yum. (Midtown Global Market at 920 E. Lake St., Mpls., 519 E. Hennepin Av., Mpls., sliceminneapolis.com)
Make-your-own pepperoni at Wrecktangle Pizza, $17: With this small (three slices each) but mightily filling pizza, crust size was Teddy's first observation, and rightfully so — rising at least an inch off the table. It proved too thick for his liking and while I tended to agree, it did make each slice a breeze to hold. The pepperoni was yummy, with a spice level we both appreciated (minimal). Its layer of cheese was Teddy's ideal in quantity and meltiness, but expect some of it to dangle from your mouth or the slice as you eat. All in all, no one aspect or flavor stole the show, giving it the feel of a standard pepperoni pizza, with significantly more bread. (Three Minneapolis locations, wrecktanglepizza.com)
Pepperoni pizza at Pizza Luce, $15.39: Two elements stood out on this pepperoni pizza. First was the crust, as it was neither thin and crispy nor thick and chewy. Instead, and uniquely, it sat somewhere between and received a ringing endorsement from Teddy. It also contained an ample amount of marinara sauce and thus boasted a flavor usually overpowered by pizza's more highly touted toppings of cheese and meat. For Teddy, a lover of ketchup on his burgers, this added bonus points to his experience. It was reminiscent of the pizzas we ate in childhood, and one of Teddy's favorites. (Eight metro-area locations, pizzaluce.com)
The Kevin + pepperoni at Surly Brewing Co., $11.25: Less equals more with this pizza — thin crust, simple layer of cheese, standard pepperoni and fabulous flavor. Sure, it might seem basic, but the ingredients all combined to make for a slice that both Teddy and I thoroughly enjoyed. More often than not, many thin-crust pizzas take a fancier approach, infusing unique spices or cheeses. But here, to Teddy's pleasure, we got the best of both worlds —minimal bread and classic taste. It proved unpretentious yet equally delicious, garnering a high ranking from both Teddy, the traditionalist, and me, the foodie. (520 Malcolm Av. SE., Mpls., surlybrewing.com)
