PIZZALCHIK

I entered Pizzalchik's small space around 11 a.m. and an eager, smiling man behind the counter asked if he could give me "the tour," so to speak. He proceeded to tell me about a multitude of fresh ingredients, including homemade salad dressings and vegetables and meats roasted/smoked/pickled in-house. From the focaccia bread to the "afterthought du jour" (dessert), almost everything on the menu is as fresh and original as it comes, and there's a syllable for every taste.

I decided on a 10-inch hand-tossed pizza with elk sausage, rainbow peppers and an assortment of wild mushrooms cooked in wine reduction and cream. My helpful tour guide, who I assumed was the owner, arranged my toppings with an expert's eye as he gave the "tour" to another customer. As I waited, the aroma of bubbling mozzarella and provolone got me salivating, and when my pizza popped out of the giant oven, it looked like a piece of art. Thin ovals of sausage spiked with fennel seeds mingled with juicy peppers and the grays, browns and duns of wild mushrooms (including a few morels thrown on for good measure). It smelled heavenly. I ordered a side of rosemary roasters (wedges of Yukon Gold potatoes roasted with rosemary) and laughed as the owner related the story of a now-regular customer who once assumed that Pizzalchik was Vietnamese.

In the comfort of my living room, I dipped a roaster in an unnamed orange sauce. The potato was tender and meaty with pleasingly crisp edges and a wonderful bouquet of herbs with just a hint of olive oil. The sauce was the best goddamn fry sauce I've ever tasted. I don't know exactly how he makes it, but that Pizzalchik can dress my potatoes any time. The pizza had a lovely golden crust, not too thin, not too thick, and the toppings were more than generous. The morels in particular were like juicy little treasures, every porous inch popping with flavor, but I found the rest of the mushrooms bland in comparison. The cheese was heady and mixed well with the sweetness of the peppers and the bite of the sausage. The overall effect left me quite satisfied.

What did I learn? Names can be deceiving and there are still restaurateurs out there willing to give you the spiel and a handful of free mushrooms, even when you're not a food critic.

--Erin Ryan thought Pizzalchik was a Russian satellite.

When asked to review Pizzalchik, I was hesitant. I couldn't get past the name, which stands for PIZZa, sALad and CHIcKen. I'm nothing if not dedicated to my job, though, so I rounded up the Beast (my 4-year old niece), the Skater (one of my two teenaged nephews) and my sister-in-law, the Schoolteacher. We went to experience Pizzalchik for better or worse.

There were only three tables and a couple of barstools making up all Pizzalchik's indoor seating, making for a cozy dining experience.

There wasn't room for any more seating or there wouldn't be room for the GIANT 6,000-pound hearth oven, in which everything is cooked. Even the Beast was quiet for once as she stared into its flaming maw. Owner/chef Brad Breakell greeted us and proudly described the freshness of pizza toppings like pepperoni, shrimp, smoked turkey, capers, zucchini, cashews, and oh so much more, all lovingly arranged on a hand-spun thin crust. He detailed the garlic, mushrooms and seasonings that go into the roasted chicken, talked about the freshness of the salad ingredients and showed us a display of beautiful cheesecake.

We selected pepperoni pizza for the Beast, one with mushrooms, sun dried tomatoes and house-marinated artichoke hearts to share, a shrimp on cold Asian noodles salad for me, tossed green salad for the Schoolteacher and a quarter chicken and Caesar salad for the Skater. We did have to wait awhile because everything was cooked to order, but once the food arrived, I was in a kind of taste bud euphoria. The dressing on my salad was tangy and a perfect complement to the noodles and big, skewered shrimp. The pizza was crispy and every ingredient was ideally balanced against the next. The Skater reluctantly let me taste his chicken and it was so tender we almost fought over the juicy remains. The Schoolteacher's salad had kiwi, cucumber, marinated onion and a gorgeous edible flower.

While not inexpensive, the food was worth every brand-new buffalo nickel they charge. On the way home, the Schoolteacher and I compared notes on everyone we were going to tell about Pizzalchik. With all of that delicious, fresh food, the Breakells can name the place any damn thing they want. I will go back. And I suggest you get yourself there, too. I've already made a lot of phone calls.

--Amy Atkins wanted to bring the Quail, but it interfered with his secret government mission.

Article copyright Bar Bar Inc.

Photograph (PIZZALCHIK)