Want to know what we’re eating? See a pic on our Instagram that you want to know more about? Every week, we’ll pick one thing we ate, tell you where we ate it, and why it was our favorite dish of the week. The Twin Cities have so much good food, and we want all of you to know what, where, and why.
I was really craving pizza a few days ago after witnessing a Pizza Hut delivery from out a coffeeshop window, so that night I went to the Pizza Hut of fancy pizza places (what does that mean?): Burch.
Burch is lovely. Upstairs is a gorgeous, modern, floor-to-ceiling-windows steakhouse, and downstairs is a white tiled, hot Neapolitan pizzeria. The whole space has that undefinable cool factor — which, hopefully rubbed off a little on me, because I could sure use all the cool I can get. (But I did just buy a fake band t-shirt about the Revolutionary War in a fundraiser for a history podcast, soo…) Anyway, I went in thinking I would get their no-cheese, tuna-heavy pizza, because #YOLO. But my server convinced me (easily) that I really wanted pizza, so I went with the Coppa Cotta: a menagerie of red sauce, mozzarella, pork, peppers, and hazelnuts. And she was right, of course. I wanted Pizza Hut, and a pie with tuna, endive, and cilantro — as good as it probably is — isn’t Pizza Hut.
I loved this pie. (I used to live in New York, I sometimes call pizza, “pie.” I’m sorry.) The hazelnuts, especially, were a revolution. I’ve had almonds on pizza, but the hazelnuts were sweeter, and played so nicely with the salty pork shoulder and roasted red peppers. I also appreciated the even distribution of mozz, in small enough pieces that I didn’t have to battle the typical stringiness. But the crust stole the show. As we all know, the mark of a good pizza is the crust, and Burch delivered. It had chew on the inside, char on the outside. It was yeasty and sour, just on the edge between distracting from and complimenting the toppings; I never felt like the crust wanted to steal the show, but I felt its presence in every bite nonetheless. It did get a little soggy in the middle, and those middle bites couldn’t hold the weight of all those toppings. But it’s rare the wood-fired pizza that doesn’t get a bit soggy. I can’t wait to go back. I’ll probably go in definitely thinking I’ll order that tuna ‘za and a crisp white wine, but I’m sure I’ll end up with the Coppa Cotta and a beer again. Because America. By way of Italy. And Germany. Amergertaly.