Crazy? Like a fox. The electric oven is on its way out. In the last year, at least five new wood-fired pizzerias have popped up in Portland. The people who brought us the Year of the Pop-Up are now projecting Mugnaini installers working overtime to put elegant tiled ovens in Lents and Powellhurst-Gilbert.
Great news, right? Not only for those of us heavily vested in oak, but for pizza lovers tired of all those crappy 'zas. Well, not so fast.
Sure, many of the best pies you'll ever eat are made in super-hot Italian-built ovens. But the restaurants that buy them also use great ingredients and invest in talent, hiring pizzaiolos who spend years mastering the nuances of their craft. The best pizzeria in town, Apizza Scholls, uses a souped-up electric oven and an infrared thermometer to achieve perfection. The second- and third-best—Ken's Artisan and Division Street's new Pizza Maria—are wood-fired, made by graduate-level bread experts.
Which brings us to Northeast Sandy Boulevard, to the new Pizzeria Otto, a woody nook with an open kitchen and sports on TV, housed in a former Roseway antique shop. Owner Clark Hale installed a big, sustainable, apple-wood-fired 900-degree Forno Bravo oven and hired a pizzaiolo who'd previously worked at Cibo and the Via Tribunali chain. With great Vietnamese every few blocks and the recent arrival of Szechuan brewpub BTU Brasserie, Roseway appears to be on the rise.
Otto, unfortunately, won't bring me back unless there are some big changes.
I'll start with the biggest problem, which is Otto's crust. Yes, the bottom is leopard-spotted with those dark flecks of toasty char found on any high-end pizza. But the rest of the crust is flaccid in both flavor and structure. The pies, which range from $10 for a simple margherita to $18 for the four-meat Carne or a pie with porcini and crumbles of housemade fennel sausage, are underdone and loafy. Of the five pizzas we had on two visits, all were mushy at heart, without that ribbon of flexible chewiness I look for in the center of a pie.
Hale says this is what he's going for, and that real Neapolitan pizzas are softer than what Americans are accustomed to. I can't argue from Naples, but his pies don't work for me. Or for my poor wife, who tried to eat one-handed and ended up with a pile of cheese and meat slipping onto her scarf.
Part of the problem, I suspect, is Otto's heavy hand with toppings. While real Neapolitan pizzas are spartan affairs, Hale has some of the cheesiest, meatiest artisan pies in town. Good in theory, but all that stuff slows cooking time, leading the bottom to brown before the pie is baked. This is why Scholls won't let you put more than three toppings on any pie, no matter how much you beg.
The toppings are a smaller problem. None of the five combinations we tried became more than the sum of their parts. They buy local coppa, a laudable practice, except the dark brown version that emerges from the oven is so gamey and salty it outmuscles everything else on the pie. A special of the day, with Brussels sprouts and pancetta, was aggressively bitter and salty, with too much crunch in the wrong places.
There are similar problems with the salads, none of which really work. The mixta, for example, uses a grana cheese that's creamier than Parmesan but lacks the salty pop, and a reduction of balsamic vinaigrette that's simply too sweet. A Mexican dish—the Caesar salad ($5 small, $9 large)—is the best thing on the menu, with that grana playing better against bright lemon, creamy housemade dressing and delicious little Sicilian anchovies.
The drink menu is fine. Wines are value-conscious and mostly available by the glass, including an impressive $5 Portuguese red. Otto had two of the world's great pizza beers, Boneyard RPM IPA on tap and Bayern Pilsner in bottles. You'll probably only want one drink, though, since Otto has you order at the counter.
That's a system that works really well at places like ¿Por Que No? and Bollywood Theater, but not here. On our first visit, I unwittingly cut the line of people waiting on wooden benches near the door by walking up to the empty counter. If you want a refill, you have to head back to the counter. If you want a takeout box, start waving your arms at a server.
And, obviously, if you want a second drink, or dessert, you're going to be back in that line behind a family waiting to order to-go pies. Is it worth it? If you're eyeing the dessert Stromboli, I advise against it. At $8, it serves two and tastes mostly like salty cracker dipped in Nutella.
It's great to see ambitious restaurants extending the boundaries of artisanal Portland. But Otto doesn't really qualify: There's already better pie 15 blocks east at East Glisan Pizza Lounge.
- Order this: Caesar salad with anchovies.
- Best deal: Bayern Pilsner ($3.50).
- Iâll pass: Pizza.
EAT: Pizzeria Otto, 6708 NE Sandy Blvd., 971-373-8348, pizzeriaotto.com. 5-9 pm Monday-Saturday.
Pies in the Sky
Portland's Four Best New Pizzerias Of 2014
Pizza Maria

3060 SE Division St., 971-303-7000, pizzamariapdx.com.
Sean Coyne has an impressive pedigree, formerly head baker at Thomas Keller's Per Se. Lured West by his wife's job, Coyne landed as the head baker at Grand Central before opening this masterfully simple pizzeria. The most impressive pie is the marinara: crust, sauce, sliced garlic and a sprinkle of oregano.
Pyro Pizza 2

Tidbit pod, Southeast 28th Place and Division Street, pyropizzacart.com.
The best single-serving pie in town comes from the wood-fired Pyro cart. Facing eviction from the Cartopia pod, Pyro opened a new cart on Division Street. And then Cartopia didn't close. So now there's twice as much Pyro goodness. This one has a beer cart nearby.
Atlas Pizza

3570 SE Division St., 232-3004, facebook.com/atlaspizzaportland.
This classic rock-'n'-roll slice shop has pinball cabinets, music from esoteric bluesman Abner Jay and old gig posters for Dead Moon. The pies aren't aspiring for fancified greatness, just a nice medium-thick crust with piquant marinara and gobs of salty mozzarella—all perfectly matched to the atmosphere.
East Glisan Pizza Lounge

8001 NE Glisan St., 971-279-4273, eastglisan.com.
The pies at this Montavilla shop aren't anything approaching pizza perfection, but they are uniformly good. The crust is well-made: thin, crackery, but lacking elasticity and tang. The simple sauce is bright, fresh and lightly applied.
WWeek 2015