Pizzeria Orso

You'd think you were in Italy on a glorious summer day, except that you're looking right at the Fairfax Auto Parts garage, thankfully closed on a Sunday, across the street.

No matter, dining on the terrace in 80-degree humidity-free weather is something to be enjoyed regardless of the view, and the great food at this suburban restaurant -- it is far more than a pizzeria -- made it truly enjoyable.

Marvelous pizza crust (photo from restaurant website)

The menu had so many appetizing starters, pastas and small plates, it was hard to choose. However, and although Orso, like 2Amys, is a real restaurant with a real kitchen, I felt obliged to try the pizza on this first trip. So I passed on the grilled octopus (figuring it had had a long trip in a freezer to get to Falls Church) and opted for the grilled heart of Romaine with chopped Romaine, fresh anchovies and Caesar dressing. The grilled lettuce is a great addition to the classic Caesar and I became a magnet for all the anchovies that others in our party didn't want. They don't know what they're missing. Andrea's sauteed cauliflower was also very tasty.

I settled for the Tommy Boy, an ambitious white pizza with ham, sausage, mozzarella, pecorino, basil, fresno peppers, garlic, grana, ricotta, and a cream sauce to bind the cheeses -- all of which came out tasting much more harmonious than it sounds. The thin crust, billowing around the edges, had that wonderful yeasty taste you crave in pizza crusts, with charred bits adding just the right wood-fired accent. Andrea ordered an Orso Bianco, another white pizza with no meat and more cheese that tasted, in fact, really cheesy.

I had an excellent American IPA, Face Plant from the Lost Rhino Brewery in Ashburn, to go with the pizza, after enjoying a Negroni in the breezy weather while we waited. In a restaurant that produces such high-quality food, it was bit bizarre that the waiter said he would have to check if they had Campari on hand for my drink. It was even more bizarre when he returned with the Negroni and the "good news" that they not only had Campari but had just enough sweet vermouth as well to make the drink (oh, and our dinner partners' martinis got the last of the Grey Goose). The service, too, was more friendly than professional, and sometimes you yearn for those snooty Continental waiters (though I may change my tune after 10 days in Italy).

The trek to Virginia was prompted by a friend's reaction to my paean of praise for 2Amys and his distaste for the thin and bland DOC Neapolitan pizzas. The irony was that Orso had much more in common with 2Amys than it had different -- which is anything but a criticism in my book. The pleasant terrace (we just breezed through the restaurant, though it left a welcoming if somewhat suburban impression) and the marvelous crust actually give Orso a slight edge.