Yep, I ate here.

It is one of the great ironies of Wisconsin pizza patronage that things that are taken as pizza law elsewhere–that crust should never be able to compared to any cracker (except Carson Daly), that sauce should not be the consistency of the stuff on spaghetti, that pizza should be fluffy yet crispy, not taste like it was microwaved and be made with the best ingredients–are treated as optional here. Which explains how I found myself in a basement restaurant in Minneapolis’ warehouse district at noon on Easter Sunday, eating in a place that can be easily described as “stainless-steel-friendly,” surprised as shit that the pizza was melting my face off for its awesomeness.

Black Sheep Pizza has the simplest of conceits: They make their pizza in a coal-fired oven just like people have in New York since 1800. It’s not rocket science, and coal is pretty cheap, but Black Sheep is the only place in the entire Midwest that I’ve eaten at on my one-man quest to die of pizza consumption that makes pizza this way. And unsurprisingly, their za annihilates anything else in Minneapolis. And or for that matter, a single slice of za from Black Sheep probably trumps anything the entire states of North Dakota, South Dakota, Iowa and probably Kansas have in terms of any kind of entertainment. Ashton Kutcher’s entire film career is crushed in enjoyment by just the thought of hopping in my car and driving four hours to get some Black Sheep in my grill.

The Good: Everything? I mean, even the goofy as way they serve pizza—the pan is placed precariously on this torture device that is hooked to your table—is perfect. The big thing though is the pepperoni, which is served like it is in the finer restaurants in New York City: the same size as salami slices, or roughly three inches in diameter. This is obviously incredibly awesome, since it’s almost impossible to eat a bite without having some toppings, which is something a lot of Midwest pizza takes for granted. Like I said, it’s the simple, back-to-basics thought that sets Black Sheep apart. Why put macaroni on a pizza, or make it 15 inches thick, when cooking a New York style in a coal oven is as close as human beings can get to eating manna from heaven?

The Bad: There’s not much I can put here, to be honest. I’m jocking pretty hard for this place, obviously. My friend said the place can get kind of busy, but being that we went on Easter, we were outnumbered by staff members by a ratio of 2 to 1. So the service was totally impeccable. Plus our waitress was kind of surprised when we tipped her as well as we did, because we apparently looked like the blown-out delinquents we are.

Try: Anything, basically. My buddy said the green olives are incredible, but I opted out of those because I didn’t want anything to ruin the giant-ass pepperoni. They also have a robust beer list and a full bar, and it’s basically the hippest place I’ve ever eaten at (seriously, I bet the stainless steel chair budget in there is larger than what I’ve made in my entire life).

Rating: Definitely better than Black Sheep the movie, starring Chris Farley. You could say that that was Farley at his worst “fattie fall down, make boom boom” phase. But then he made Beverly Hills Ninja, and that is even worse. I am obviously a doctor of Chris Farley’s movie career as well.

Minneapoli, Reviews, Wisconsin Pizza Outreach Program