Review: Ambrogio15 and the Quest for the Perfect Pizza

The trouble with perfecting something simple is there are only a few factors under your control, and only so far you can go with them. Pizza, at its heart, is three things: dough, sauce, cheese. Sure, you can add to that base formula, but at a certain point you're just gilding the lily. So how do you hone and refine this handful of ingredients to create a pizza that will stand above all others? Not many pizza joints even try to tackle this question. Ambrogio15 in PB is one of the few places that might just have an answer.

Let's ignore our carpaccio appetizer. Sure, beef and parmesan has no right to be this light and fresh, brightened by citrus, bitter arugula and the salty pop of capers. But it's just a sideshow. A tantalizing distraction.

Let's forget the tiramisu en coppa. Yes it's tasty, with lots of sweet mascarpone cream, Nutella and crunchy coffee-infused ladyfingers, but small enough to keep you craving more. But it's not why you're here.

You want pizza. You demand it. Milan-style, razor thin, with top-shelf ingredients hauled across the globe from Italy.

How about the burrata e prosciutto crudo? The crust is impossibly thin, deserving of an architectural award for standing up to the ingredients with only minor flopping. San Marzano tomato sauce that's sweet, almost fruity. A layer of mozzarella fior di latte—literally, "flower of milk"—that's just as sumptuous as it sounds. A lush, creamy expanse of burrata from Puglia, the heel of Italy's boot. And an authentic 20-month-aged prosciutto di Parma, salty and intense. It's every region's specialty—what generations have put their heart and soul into. Put it together on one pizza, and you feel like a kid stealing from the cookie jar: Am I really allowed to eat this?

Amy ordered the salamino piccante pizza, which is its own revelation. Despite the name, it's really not spicy, but the salame is delicious, thickly sliced and satisfying. The rosemary is a perfect touch of piney herbaceousness that could easily have been overpowering, but instead is perfectly balanced. I was tempted to have more, but that would've meant trading away more of my own.

Have I found the pinnacle of pizza? There are other contenders, of course. There's the remarkable BIGA downtown, farmer's market dark horse Cucina Caprese, and undoubtedly others I haven't discovered. But in truth, maybe I'm too fixated on perfection. For now, I can rest easy knowing there's at at least one place I can turn to satisfy even my strongest pizza cravings.

Score: 9.5 out of 10

Review: North Italia

As the family's restaurant concierge for Sunday lunches, I always find it hard to pick places that balance everyone's preferences: Somewhere interesting, not far away, a sit-down place, reasonably priced, not too brunchy... and, of course, somewhere with great food. When places like North Italia open up, it makes my job just a little bit easier.

Walking into the place felt immediately comfortable; tons of natural light pours in to illuminate the warm wood tones. We ordered drinks right away. Amy's Julietta was a light fun cocktail, bright and floral from the elderflower liqueur and slightly fizzy from the prosecco. There was a hint of ginger infused in the vodka, but nothing too assertive. My dad and I both gravitated to the apple bourbon sour—he takes after me, I guess. It was tart and delicious, an apple-cinnamon treat with a light bourbon bite. I savored every drop.

To start we shared what turned out to be a very elegant take on calamari. The thick crispy batter would make it a heavy appetizer, but it was tossed with peppery arugula and lightened considerably by the grilled lemon and vinaigrette. It was almost more like a citrusy salad punctuated with rings of tasty crunch. A definite winner.

The Caesar was one of the best I've tasted. A combination of romaine and pleasingly bitter radicchio was tossed in garlicky dressing that didn't shy away from its anchovy pungency. Best of all were the croutons, which managed to remain light and crunchy despite being soaked in the dressing. It was topped a liberal shaving of grana padano to drive home the richness of the salad.

I got the prosciutto pizza as my entree, which had a fig base as its "sauce," and was topped with arugula, goat cheese, mission figs and a bit of parmesan. All of this made for a lot of delicious sweet and salty elements. The goat cheese had a creamy, almost burrata-like consistency, and the prosciutto... well, prosciutto is always great. However, the double dose of fig did make the pizza a little too sweet; either the sauce or the topping would have sufficed. I also missed the acidity that comes from something like a classic tomato sauce.

Dad's bacon and egg pizza was the quintessential great breakfast pizza. Though though the bacon could have been crisped up a bit, it was pleasantly creamy, with some nice earthy asparagus to make everything officially Healthy™. Others at the table concluded this was the best entree of the four; I'm hesitant to give it that title when there's pasta in the running.

On that front: My mom got the radiatori—so named because they literally resemble miniature radiators. The shape, it turns out, was perfect for capturing the delicious parmesan cream sauce, which was rich but tempered a touch of citrus. It came with tender short rib meat to round out a wonderfully comforting dish. Amy's chicken pesto was also very tasty, though not too unusual. Although it was cream-based, the taste of the basil, herbs and toasted pine nuts easily shined through. The chicken would have been a bit dry were it not for the extra sauce to smother it in.

There were a lot of successful dishes here, and only a few missteps. Maybe the most telling detail, though, is that my dad—the choosiest member of our Sunday posse—gave it his blessing. With that crucial endorsement, I've officially added North Italia to the Sunday rotation. Maybe I should send them a plaque or something.

Score: 8 out of 10 (Superior)