Handsome Pizza, Hypercritical Food Review of Terror and Heckling (Portland, OR)

The first time I drove through Portland, I'd been driving for 40 million hours or so alongside a nutcase who would listen to nothing but freestyle. It was over ten years ago, but I will never forget how we hit the outer limits right around rush hour, stopping our steady pace to a grinding, brake tapping, near-halt. By the time we reached that stunning view of Portland proper, the river, and its impressive bridges, we were both in a seriously foul mood.

I decided Portland sucked and could go sink in the ocean for all I cared.

But that was then, and after a refreshing visit to Crater Lake, I was ready to embrace Portland anew. The four hour drive had set my stomach arumbling--it was time to eat. I'd originally planned to stay two nights in Portland, visiting various libraries and really getting a sense of the place this time around, but my illness cut my time down to one single evening. I could only be devoted to one objective: Handsome Pizza.

I've been wanting to try this place since my first employee, Will, long since moved on to greener pastures from the gritty city, opened it up in Portland years ago. I believe the original name was Depokos, and the place has moved since to the NE Killingsworth location, co-run with Seastar Bakery. I knew Handsome Pizza had been getting consistently good reviews and I was looking forward to finally getting to try one of Will's recipes.

I knew the pizza would be good--Will's discerning taste for only the best pizza has been legendary since I've known him. I know he worked hard at perfecting his pies and I was excited to get the chance to finally see him in his element.

Alas, best laid plans and all that...it turned out that Will would be out of town at a wedding during my pass through Portland, so I would have to try Handsome Pizza solo. I found a parking space near the front entrance and made my way inside.

It's a great space with fabulous lighting, a phantasmagorical dragon, and a freaky hybrid varmint hanging over one of the doors. The massive pizza oven dominates the kitchen area and I could see the flames flickering all the way outside. I would bet kids love eating at Handsome Pizza, though it is not specifically kid-centric, it is wholeheartedly a fantastical place full of whimsy and fun, something far beyond your usual checked table cloths and dirty lanterns.

I ordered the Di Fara and watched as they put it together. The staff has an easy, convivial relationship, where everyone seems content to be there and the action never stops. They presented my pizza in short time, and I was dazzled by its charry bubbles, melty cheese, and fresh basil sinking slowly into the mozz and sauce.

It was, in a word, sublime. Not too salty, not too sweet. Not greasy at all. Every bite was heaven. The sauce in particular was something to savor, so fresh it was as though they'd made it not ten minutes before.

I knew I couldn't take it with me, so I chucked the rinds and ate only the gooey parts, even through I'm usually a crust eater, you have to make sacrifices somewhere. It was decadent enough as it was.

Obligatory upskirt!

One of my favorite Dad Jokes with Will has always been to harass and cajole him about the virtues of the Pizza Hut, and how it is just as good if not better than New York's very best pizza pies. We all know this is rubbish (perhaps skirting into sacrilege) but I always got a kick at how genuinely annoyed he was at the very suggestion. I don't know, maybe it was sacrilege, like saying Bloody Mary in the mirror three times or taunting a Ouija board. Maybe my Dad Jokes earned me the bad pizzas I've had in my life, especially that last Papa John's fiasco, which was less a pizza and more a raw sewage pie. It was my Pizza Karma, making fun. So I confess, and I atone.

And I've gotta say it: Handsome Pizza is up there with those New York Big Boys. You did good, Will. I am so proud.