Trying New Restaurants: Pizz'a Chicago

I wrote recently about how we've made a point of trying new restaurants since the start of the year. I'm still catching up on the first several we've tried. Today it's Pizz'A Chicago, a few miles away in Santa Clara.

Pizz'A Chicago is not new. It's been there for over 30 years. And we've eaten there before. As with Gumba's I wrote about last week we're considering it effectively new to us as it's been so long since our last visit— almost 25 years ago, I think— that we don't remember it well. Also, it could be totally different now.

The air of Chicago is thick in the restaurant. Chicago is right there in the name. It's also all over the walls, which are covered in black and white photos/murals of classic Chicago scenes and public figures. Alas it may be just a Chicago veneer covering an increasingly generic restaurant.

Curiously there are two Pizz'A Chicago restaurants in the area. They have the same name, spelled and punctuated the same way, and the same logo. But they have different websites. Neither website acknowledges the other restaurant's existence, and the two sites offer different "About Us" backstories. The other restaurant tells the story of its founder, who grew up in Chicago and opened a restaurant here. This restaurant has none of that. It's just a place that was founded in 1991, no names, no inspiring childhood story.

Clearly the restaurants were started by the same person. My point is that it looks like the founder sold off part of his business, or perhaps had a falling out with a partner, and this store is the orphan. It's got the name but it no longer has the same parent-guardian. And that's obvious down through all the staff working here. Despite all the Chicago memorabilia on the walls, nobody working here looks or sounds like they're from Chicago.

So how was the food? Enh. I thought it was decent, Hawk didn't like it. The tomato sauce was too richly flavored for her. And they were pretty liberal with it. "Poured it all over everything," would be an apt description. "And served a half cup on the side."

I'd be willing to give this restaurant one more try. I'd have to do it without my spouse, though. I'm also curious to try the other Pizz'A Chicago store, in Palo Alto. With the founder still involved, that one might be better.

Helles Bock Beer Tasting

Recently I decided it was time for a Helles Bock beer tasting round. The name for the style of beer is German and kinda literally means "light dark". Or more literally "light goat". 🐏🍺 I decided it was time for a proper taste-off within the category after I tried Rogue Dead Guy Ale and didn't have anything to compare it to. On a subsequent trip to the liquor store I noticed that Abita's Andygator, a beer I've had on my "try it sometime" list is also a Helles Bock.



The beers pour with Dead Guy having a slight darker, reddish hue compared to the lighter amber of Andygator. I'm not really big on judging beers by their colors, though— and since one of my all-time favorites, Guinness Draught, pours like used motor oil these don't impress me much. Thus I moved quickly to the drinking-the-beers part of my comparison.

The taste of these two brews is similar. The Dead Guy Ale has a very malty, almost bready taste up front. That's a classic characteristic of a lager, BTW. "Dead Guy Ale" is misnamed because it's a lager, not an ale. The Andygator has a softer taste up front and a sweeter finish. Again, though, the tastes are similar. It's only because I was looking for differences I noticed these.

After taking a few sips of the beers by themselves I finished the glasses over a dinner of medium-spicy Buffalo chicken and cheesy garlic bread. This combination of meat, spice, bread, and fat is a good cross-section of what the Maibock style of beer is meant to go with, IMO. I was hoping the food would distinguish one beer over the other. Would the malty taste on the front pair better, or would it be the sweet finish? Both beers tasted fine with the food. They remained very slightly different, with neither being a clearly better match than the other. I did wonder, though, if my favorite amber ale, Fat Tire, would've gone even better.

After I finished this taste test I realized I'll need a do-over. ...No, not just because I want to drink more beer! As I was double-checking info about the beers I spotted that Abita calls its Andygator a Helles Doppelbock— light double dark. Or light double goat. 🐏🐏🍺 So maybe these two beers aren't the best bock-to-bock competitors. Abita does have another brew, which is says is a regular Helles Bock. I've got a 6-pack of those in the cellar, so watch this space for another comparison round soon.