There are countless times when TLO head-honcho Patrick suggests a new restaurant to review that, to be honest, I'm not thrilled about. Pizza spots were always this way.
Well, here’s my act of total contrition, Patrick!
American Gothic Pizza, 1715 Wheeler Street, Suite 100, in the Wheeler District, is a pizzeria utilizing traditional recipes, with stellar ingredients like fresh herbs and spices with an almost sweet-ish dough that I could not get enough of…
I think they might be the best slice of the year.
True, upon first glance, American Gothic seems like a typical upscale pizza kitchen where you would find the usual cheese and pepperoni pies. But, as I entered the restaurant and looked at the picture window where the cook was folding and pressing the dough the old school way, I sensed this might be different.
Sitting down to dinner that night, we had a full house, including Patrick and his daughter, TLO fixer Beth and her daughter, and yours truly.
Patrick took the reins and decided that everyone would choose their own pizza, mostly because he had been excited for everyone to try the place—apparently, he first tasted American Gothic at a party he attended and, consequently, fell in love with it.
Taking our order, the server instead suggested the Runway Pie, a 34-inch pie built from four pizzas of your choosing that stretches out like, what else, an airplane runway and feeds six or seven people.
Of course, we ordered that, as well as a couple of appetizers like the Focaccia Dippers ($6.00)—homemade focaccia bread served with fresh marinara—and the Bruschetta ($9.00)—toasted bread with garlic, seasoned tomatoes, olive oil, balsamic glaze, and fresh basil.
Sure, the Dippers were very tasty, but the table-favorite was the Bruschetta. Dripping off my bread, the juicy crushed tomatoes and spices on the toasted bread was truly extraordinary, filling my senses with the style and swagger of the Amalfi coast.
As we were finishing up our starters, without warning the imaginary trumpets blared, and our Runway Pie flew in for a smooth landing. Seriously, take a look at these pictures:
Sadly we weren’t able to fit all the pizza we wanted to try onto the Runway Pie, so Beth’s Marinara Pizza (vegan) came out separately. It was one pie I couldn’t get to, and here’s what she thought of her selection:
“It was simple but thoughtful, with fresh tomato sauce, shaved garlic, oregano, olive oil and truly otherworldly basil. I later watched an earthy-looking woman deliver a lush bundle of it to the owner—which I could smell from across the counter—confirming my suspicion that some sort of ingredient voodoo was happening behind the scenes.”
As she was munching on this, we started on the towering achievement in the world of ‘za, the Runway Pie. Each overstuffed square was loaded with dripping cheese and customized toppings, this was the true American Gothic.
Here’s what I thought about each section…
My choice, the Smokey and the Bandit, based on the Burt Reynolds movie, is a celebration of well-to-do calabrese salami, as well as mozzarella, smoked mozzarella, Manchego, and parmesan cheese. I thought it was going to be a little harsh with the salami, but with the amalgam of cheeses doing the heavy lifting, it was a bright, flavorful introduction to American Gothic’s style.
Patrick’s selection was the meat-eater extravaganza, the House Sausage, a feast fit for a king. It had spicy sauce, house-made sausage, mozzarella, smoked mozzarella and Manchego, with some pepperonis to cap it off. This was a mountain of meat and, of course, I decided to climb it, with every topping adding a new layer to this pie. It really filled me up!
From the “Classic” side of the menu, we have uber-saucy Cheese Pizza, with a layer of sauce, mozzarella, smoked mozzarella, Manchego, and parmesan cheeses. You would think a cheese pizza would be the most boring, basic pizza. Not here, because that cheese pull can’t be denied, as this ooey, gooey revelation made this the most surprising pick of all!
Finally, we had a Margherita Pizza. It had the usual suspects—sauce, mozzarella, basil and olive oil—and while I have never really liked margherita pizza, the blistering sauce really won me over, with the dabs of basil and olive oil making me throw in the towel.
Yeah, I could eat no more.
As I sipped on my water, they all decided on some of American Gothic’s selection of creamy gelato. Have at it, I said, because I was full of the best pizza in Oklahoma City, at least for right now, and I was perfectly sated.
My wanton prejudice against pizza, once again, had been slain by a couple of bespectacled elderly pensioners, holding a pitchfork in one hand, a steaming slice in the other. With American Gothic’s pizza pie, it’s all a work of art.
Cómpralo ya!
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Follow Louis Fowler on Instagram at @louisfowler78.
