It's somewhere in this fucker.
Eau Claire is known for many things — La Crosse Lager, the mighty Chippewa Falls, UW-Whitewater and the Minnesota Twins, to name just a few.
Okay, so Eau Claire isn’t known for shit… except being annoyingly far away from everywhere else, and Bon Iver’s falsetto occasionally echoing out from the woods.
But, as I found when I paid Eau Claire my innaugral visit recently, Pizza Del Re is pretty alright too.
Since I feel like everyone needs a specific reason to go to Eau Claire — the Sabrina the Teenage Witch in the TGIF lineup that is Wisconsin — I feel obligated to tell you that I drove the 12 combined hours of yellowing grassfields, busted grain silos, anti-abortion signage and unincorporated townships to get drunk and eat pizza with Mozza Fella.
Once I arrived, shaved the beard I grew entirely during the drive, and spent the necessary 9 months in a state of hypersleep, Mozza, Ms. Fella and I went to buy some beer and take a look around town. There, we found a tiny little used book store tucked into the downtown façade. Since they didn’t have any 1st edition Goosebumps paperbacks on hand, our visit was almost as sparse as our downtown excursion itself. The pizza hour was nearly upon us.
After tying on a nice buzz via Central Waters and Old Chub (a beer, but also a nickname for Mozza Fella’s dick), I relented to the native Eau Claire…ians’ choice in pizzeria. Initially, we checked out nearby Pizza Ranch, but figuring we’d all rather be part of a suicide pact than contemplate eating there for five seconds longer, they eventually settled on Pizza Del Re, a semi-popular joint on the edge of town. And might I say, it beat the living shit out of Pizza Ranch.
THE GOOD: Though Pizza Del Re might be the place to go for a great pizza, I saw the restaurant and its week-long pizza buffet to be more of the eat until you sweat and are want to update your will-type place. The buffet, though small, was continually tended to with random ass pizzas and garlic bread. The pizza was exclusively thin crust and was cheesier than a Carrot Top routine (or using a Carrot Top analogy). The sauce was spattered in oregano, like Cranky Pat’s buttfucked an Orv’s Riser and somehow knocked it up.
The real kicker: The price. The buffet was just $5.50 and left us all uncomfortably full. PLUS!, we scored a pitcher of Leinie’s 1888 Bock for only 4-fucking-fifty. Apparently Eau Claire runs on pesos.
THE BAD: Ironically, buffets are sometimes the worst options in terms of pizza variety. Having laid waste to a buffet or two in my day (not my first rodeo), I was half-expectant yet disappointed to see a good percentage of Del Re’s pizzas to be sloppy combinations of pepperoni, too much onion, and green pepper. Seriously, who does a guy need to blow to get mushrooms on a pizza? The assistant manager? After a second pitcher of $4.50 micro brew, I might’ve considered it.
TRY: Pizza Buffet and $4.50 pitchers. What were you expecting, “salad bar or french dip”? … as if.
RATING: Pizza Del Re is the Los del Rio of pizza places. You won’t want to take the taxing journey that brings you to either, but once there, you won’t regret your involvement. BTW: Los del Rio was responsible for “Macarena” – so that’s why it’s funny. What? It’s not? OK… then, Pizza Del Re was pretty good, I guess.
