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

Quick Bite: Cali Banh Mi

A couple months back, Kearny Mesa staple Cali Banh Mi opened their second location in east PB. Since then I've stopped by probably three or four times, and on the whole I like what I've seen.

The interior is small but chic, with lots of natural light and a white and gold color scheme. There's also a little side patio to hang out on, which seems nice, though honestly this is more of a to-go spot for me.

I've gotten the savory BBQ pork banh mi a couple of times. It's only four bucks, and while it's not massive sandwich, it's just the right amount to fill me up. Visually, the red and green colors from the pork and veggies are bright and appealing nestled in the light and crunchy baguette. The pork is sweet and savory, with definite notes of black pepper sprinkled in and a touch of garlic aioli spread. The foliage is plentiful here: cilantro, jalapeño, cucumber, pickled carrots and daikon. I would have preferred a little less cucumber, and the pickled veggies are actually pretty mild and could have used just a bit more sharpness. For the most part, though, it's a fresh and delicious lunch option.

On those days where I feel like I deserve the royal treatment, the surf & turf banh mi (for the kingly sum of eight dollars) is another way to go. The other fixings are the same, but the pork is swapped for ribeye and black pepper shrimp. The savory, meaty flavors from the ribeye and the sweet, buttery seafood are a great combination. The ribeye could benefit from a lighter cook, but that's my only real gripe.

Though Cali Banh Mi is near one of the busiest intersections of San Diego, it's in a slightly odd location without much else around it to attract business. At least Muscle Mill, the previous fast casual joint to occupy the space, had the advantage of catering to the nearby gym. Hopefully it manages to do well there, since it's a simple, dependable lunch choice for days on the go.

Score: 7 out of 10 (Very Good)

Event Bites: Rum Socials at Oceana

Over the past couple of months, Amy and I went to a couple of Rum Socials put on by the Catamaran Resort in PB, in association with Malahat Spirits, a local rum distillery.

Tickets were $35 a person—not bad considering events like this often cost double or triple that. Located on the back patio of Oceana Coastal Kitchen, they both featured live music, a rum tasting, two signature cocktails and a seemingly endless supply of hors d'oeuvres. (I dream of one day being able to spell "hors d'oeuvres" on my first try.)

Let's get all the drinks outta the way first. To be honest, I'm not as discerning about alcohol as I am about food, but I do still think rums we tasted were excellent. The Malahat co-founder stressed to us how, unlike most other rums, theirs are designed for sipping neat, and though I can't see myself doing that, these were definitely much smoother. First was a cabernet-barrel-aged rum, simple and lightly sweet. The second was clean and bright with light citrus notes. Finally, my personal favorite was the spiced rum, full of vanilla and cinnamon flavors.

Our mojitos at the first event featured the barrel-aged rum. They were sweet, fresh and deliciously strong. The "cannibal coladas" at the second event were equally tasty and a bit more interesting. It was a piña colada using the spiced rum and mango purée. The result was tasted tropical and sweet but also pumpkin-spiced, which sounds bizarre, but somehow it worked out great.

Phew. Now that those pesky drinks are dealt with, we can get to the food.

(I know, I'm weird. I just like food I guess.)

The first event back in August was probably the better of the two. It featured a table with charcuterie board and smoked trout hand rolls. Both delicious, and I'm not even a big smoked fish fan. My favorite passed bite of the evening was probably the endive with bacon-wrapped fig, topped with balsamic and creme fraiche. There's a reason this type of hors d'eouvre is popular to the point of being cliché: They work really well. The salt of the bacon plus the fruitiness of the fig and the tang of the toppings are swept up in the fresh crunch of the endive to create a mini masterpiece.

(Fun fact: "hors d'eouvre" is not pronounced "horse dover." French is dumb.)

Dessert was a fantastic array of petit fours, but there were a couple of highlights for me. The pyramid of chocolate mousse was rich in its chocolate shell, coated with finely chopped nuts. The macaron was perfectly packed with sweet, toasty vanilla and a hint of coconut.

The second social was a bit less impressive, but still a good time. It was pirate themed, so each table had a sprinkle of chocolate coins and a sugar skull centerpiece.

The table setup served sliders with roasted suckling pig, pickled onion and sweet chili sauce. The meat was tender and moist, but the golden-crisp skin was the real star: full of melty, collagenous textures and savory flavors. The passed bites were a little less varied but still tasty. The salmon puffs may have been the best, filled with cream cheese and garnished chives, like a posh, fluffy lox and bagel. The andouille crostini was a bit dull and one-note, as the sausage was the only prominent flavor. I did like the vegetables with crisped rice, which had a nice vinegar component and a pleasing crunch from the crisped rice.

Sadly, there were no dessert bites this time (aside from the coins, which we eagerly plundered)—probably because our tickets came with a Mission Bay cocktail cruise, and they didn't want to spoil us too much. It was a weeknight, though, so we cut out early like the wet blankets that we are.

I've gotten more than a few culinary event emails hawking tickets for several hundred dollars a pop. These Rum Socials weren't exactly black tie galas, but they still let you enjoy some great food and drink while feeling fancy for a relative bargain. I certainly hope the Catamaran decides to put on a few more next year.

Score: 7.5 out of 10 (Great)

Happy Hour Bite: Dirty Birds

Chicken wings are the pinnacle of bar food: You can eat them with your hands, they're shareable and they're great with a beer. But there's one place in San Diego that has taken that pinnacle and airlifted some extra soil on top to create (*gasp*) an even higher pinnacle. That place is Dirty Birds.

Thirty-seven flavors. Take that in for a minute. Dirty Birds has thirty-seven discrete flavors of wings. I've been here many times, and I still haven't even tried half of them. (The ones I have tried, I've catalogued in a spreadsheet like the insufferable nerd that I am.) They're also half off during happy hour (weekdays 3–6pm), meaning you can get 10 wings for a very reasonable $7.50.

Dirty Blue and Seoul Wing, plus token veggies.

I paid a visit the other day and got two of my favorites. First was the Dirty Blue, a mix of a classic buffalo sauce and house-made blue cheese dressing. This is the most brilliant innovation in wing technology since the airfoil. Blue cheese already goes great with wings, so why not bake it in (literally) from the get-go? The result has both the spicy vinegar kick of the buffalo and the creamy pungency of the blue cheese. Every bite makes you crave the next.

I should note that they've also come up with a couple of other wonderfully balanced sauce blends. The Dirty Ranch uses ranch dressing for something a little less sharp and more creamy. The Flaming Honey Mustard's combination is a bit sweeter and also slightly spicier, probably due to a slight bite from the mustard.

My other choice, the Seoul Wing, is one of the more interesting flavors on the menu. It's a distinctly Asian-influenced sauce with notes of garlic, soy sauce, teriyaki and sesame, plus a firm but tempered dose of chile. It all comes together in an awesome amalgam of sweet, savory and spicy.

There aren't many restaurants that do one thing as thoroughly and as successfully as Dirty Birds does wings. While not every sauce is a winner, most of them are—and the absurd number of options ensures that just about anyone can find several that suit their taste.

Score: 9 out of 10 (Fantastic)

Dish Spotlight: Rub My Belly at Good Time Poke

Some places have one dish that stands out among the rest—not because the other menu items are bad, but because this one thing is so good that it feels like a betrayal to get anything else. For Good Time Poke in Pacific Beach, that dish is the Rub My Belly.

The $14 Rub My Belly bowl is probably my favorite poke in San Diego, though it arguably isn't technically poke at all. It consists of a bed of white rice topped with torched salmon belly—no shoyu marinade here—and a variety of veggies and toppings. (I always add jalapeño for some extra heat.)

Not one ingredient feels out of place in this bowl. The salmon belly is luscious: It's tender and raw on one side, the lightest of sears on the other, creating a mouthwatering contrast of textures. The nori is salty, rough and crisp, and brings with it that classic essence of the sea. The greenery of the avocado, scallions and jalapeño make the dish feel fresh and light without taking too much focus off the fish. The real chopped wasabi feels like an indulgence—it tastes brighter and sharper than the usual green-dyed horseradish. The tosazu (Japanese bonito rice vinegar) is slightly tangy mixed with a touch of soy sauce.

This bowl has become a favorite in my family over the past couple of years. My dad has said more than once that it might actually be his favorite thing to eat, period. I won't go that far, but I love how any single bite is guaranteed to have a melange of three or four delicious elements that play perfectly together. The salmon, nori and vinegared rice coalesce into a symphony of flavor. Occasionally the wasabi lightly burns my nose, and I chuckle at my miscalculation in assembling the perfect bite.

The Rub My Belly feels like a San Diego summer. You could grab a bowl to go, walk three blocks to the ocean and eat it beachside under an umbrella. You could even pretend you just caught the fish yourself from the pier—it tastes fresh enough, after all. You could finish every precious morsel (feeling full yet wishing there'd been just a little more), then walk to the water and let the cold waves wash over your feet.

What am I trying to say here? Well... the best food doesn't feel like it's limited to a dining table. It feels like part of life. It brings people together. The best food makes memories.