In a word: The flip side of Rossario’s.

The specs: #0559  
Address, hours & details via Isthmus; interview with Ross Parisi; reviews at Yelp, AV Club, Doctors of Za, , listing at Eat Drink Madison; menu at menupix.

JM ate the pineapple and Canadian bacon half of a ten-inch thin crust pizza.
Nichole ate the anchovy and red onion half.
The bill was $10, or $5/person, plus tip.
JM gave Rossi’s an A-; Nichole gave Rossi’s an A (see our grading rubric).

If Rossario’s is a stuffy captain’s mess, Rossi’s is a party in steerage. Practically a hole in the wall of its predecessor’s basement, and run by the same good folks, Rossi’s makes the best thin-crust American-style pizza we’ve had yet in Madison.

We decided to pick up a small pizza to go and placed our order at Rossi’s before we went upstairs to dinner. The spirit of do-what-you-love permeates the place, from the tchotchkes – including a vintage Brewers bleacher pad and a red plastic View-Master – to the Blues Brothers soundtrack on the record player to the eclectic menu and fortune cookies (!).

What started as our cheater-headed move to save some time ended up saving the day. Our ten-inch pizza, which we intended to sample but save for breakfast, was half gone before we got home. Remember, this was mere moments after getting up from a complete Italian dinner (though we did pack a to-go box), which speaks volumes to the appetite-inducing qualities of this pizza, especially the olfactory sensations it gives off.

Granted, we got the pizza mere moments after it emerged from the oven. Yet there’s no denying that the crust was super, the sauce was thick and rich, the cheese was smoky and stretchy, the toppings had been chosen and assembled with care, and a sprinkle of dried parsley showed the love, all of which would be true even of a delivered pie. Do yourself a favor sometime and order in person. If you get anchovies, Ross might even wink at you.

In a word: Looks like we finally got a piece of the pie.

The specs: #0557  
Address, hours & details via Isthmus; reviews at Ruppert Food Blog, Yelp, Insider Pages, kudzu,   , listing at Eat Drink Madison; official web sites (solo, corporate).

JM, Nichole, Ross and Samantha ate a Chicago-style Classic Combo (sausage, pepperoni, mushroom, peppers, and black olives), a thin crust Godfather (sausage, garlic, and hot giardiniera), and two fountain drinks.
The bill was $35, or $8.75/person, plus tip.
JM and Nichole gave Rosati’s Authentic Chicago Pizza an A- (see our grading rubric).

Rosati’s is in a nondescript strip on Mineral Point, next to a plethora of other fast food and speedy service options. Back in the day, Rosati’s was Ross’s go-to work lunch pizza place because of their reliable speed and value, not to mention the pizza, which reminded him of the best things about the New York slices he ate growing up. Which is odd, since Rosati’s bills itself as staunchly Chicagoan, but we’re not going to touch the “authenticity” thing with a ten-foot peel.

We sat down in the homey, warm, slightly shabby but clean dining room, and were treated to Sinatra on the stereo. The quarters were dark, warm, and close, with high-backed wooden booths fitted tightly with their built-in tables, but we weren’t sitting on top of each other.

We enjoyed our loopy, conscientious server, who plied us with warm popcorn until the pizzas arrived and cheerily brought soda refills all evening.

Naturally, the thin crust Godfather arrived first. The sauce was smooth and sweet. For a thin crust, this one was rather thick. The toppings were super: the sausage was good, but we especially liked the use of giardiniera. This pepper mix included celery (a first for us as a pizza topping) and was spicy but tamed by the cheese. The heat of this pizza stays with you in a good, staunch, peppery way.

We were all impressed with the differences between the sauces on the two pizzas. On the Chicago-style deep dish “Classic Combo,” the sauce was chunky and had a richer, less sweet tomato flavor, with a touch of citrus that complemented the toppings. We all preferred the Godfather, though some of that might have been due to the Primacy Effect and the fact that we were getting full, which dampened the Recent Effect.

The check was delivered with a red silk rose and starlight mints – pitch-perfect. We left still hoping this mini-mall can support two pizza places, and if one of them has to go, based on hearsay about Dahmen’s not living up to our Pizza Oven meal, we’d probably mourn Rosati’s more.

In a word: Like the fourth of July in your mouth.

The specs: #0556  
Address, hours & details via Isthmus; reviews at Isthmus, Insider Pages, 5929 on Middleton and Fitchburg, Yelp, , listing at Eat Drink Madison; official web site, Twitter.

JM, Nichole, and Nino ate the Dead Man Walking (sausage, ham, pepperoni, prosciutto and bacon) with a lemonade and a Mud Puppy porter.
The bill was $38, or $12.67/person, with coupon, plus tip.
JM gave Roman Candle Pizza an A; Nichole and Nino gave Roman Candle Pizza an A- (see our grading rubric).

We were thrilled to finally make our visit to Roman Candle count. In the creative topping combo category, and a decent crust on the thin side, it really can’t be beat.

Willy Street’s branch has a warm, cozy atmosphere. Late at night the dining room was bathed in orange and yellow light, and small, real flower arrangements decked each table. The pizza platform that folded down from the wall and over our table was ingenious. There were several tables in use at 8pm, something our customarily early dinners rarely let us see.

In the name of nutrition, we got a small side of steamed broccoli topped with nice Parmesan cheese shavings. It was good, if small to split three ways.

The Dead Man Walking pizza was blanketed in meat (with apologies to any vegetarians reading – we hear Roman Candle also throws a mean vegan pizza party). Six kinds of pig-based proteins composed what Nino called a “symphony of meat.” Each bite was an exciting guessing game: “What am I tasting now? I’m not sure!” Compared to our most recent meat-centric pizza, the Meat Pyramid at erstwhile Pizza Oven, the Dead Man Walking had both higher-quality ingredients and more of them:

• Sweet, fennel-spiked sausage dominated the flavor;
• Chunks of not-too-salty ham were filling;
• Pepperoni was there just in case there wasn’t enough grease;
• Prosciutto and bacon used sparingly, mostly under the cheese, added smoky depth.

The crust was thin, floppy near the middle and crisp on the edges.

Roman Candle currently delivers to most of Madison and has a really nifty map (whoa, Oregon, you lucky ducks! Who knew? And Monona, too bad, but at least you have Rossi’s). Its three menus are basically the same, except that Fitchburg offers sandwiches and more pasta options and Middleton has a wider selection of wine and beer. Boom!

In a word: It’s a buttery little bakery.

The specs: #0555  
Address, hours & details via Isthmus; reviews at Yelp, Viewpoints, Wisconsin Candy Dish, Isthmus, listing at Eat Drink Madison; official web site,

Faye, JM, and Nichole split a cupcake, a cream puff, a Napoleon, a berry tart, a cinnamon bun, and a slice of chocolate cake.
The bill was about $20 or $6/person.
JM and Nichole gave Rolling Pin Bake Shop an A-; Faye gave Rolling Pin Bake Shop a B- (see our grading rubric).

It’s easy to overlook Rolling Pin in its strip-mall off Fish Hatchery, near the Laredo’s. We missed out on a real meal there due to a scheduling miscalculation, but we’re not going to complain about having room left for five pastries. Based on our sample, we can say Rolling Pin is never shy with the butter or sugar, and they have a balanced eye for cuteness.

A peanut butter cupcake left JM’s mouth feeling coated in lipidy stuff (like MST3K says, “whole stick of butter in every can“). The flavor was sweet and nutty. A berry tart had a thick crust of, yes, ultra-buttery yellow crumbs, a thin layer of sweetened cream cheese, and tart-verging-on-sour raspberries and blueberries.

A cinnamon bun was fully glazed but not sticky and frankly not very cinnamoned. Getting both a Napoleon and a cream puff was probably overkill, as each incorporated massive amounts of airy whipped cream. The cream puff’s pastry was not too sweet (though it was, um, buttery) and the Napoleon used what the server called “creme brulee filling” between flaky layers.

After splitting five treats, we waved the white flag and put away the cake for later. (It was Nichole’s favorite of the group, dense with intense chocolate flavor in the cake, creamy internal frosting, and ganache-like exterior frosting.) Cakes are sold whole or pre-sliced, so don’t get your heart set on anything in particular before you see what’s available.

Rolling Pin also has an impressive portfolio of wedding cakes and a decent selection of breads, which we probably should have sampled. But we were on our way to Brat Fest and really didn’t want to overdo it, you know?

In a word: Fine dining for people who haven’t had any better.

The specs: #0554  
Address, hours & details via Isthmus; reviews at Yelp, ; official web site.

JM ate the apple-baked pork chops with a lemonade.
Nichole ate a burger with French onion soup.
We split a dessert.
The bill was $26, or $13/person, plus tip.
JM gave Rodeside Grill a C+; Nichole gave Rodeside Grill a C (see our grading rubric).

Rodeside Grill, just off the highway in Windsor, almost shares a parking lot with a Days Inn. It does seem to cater to the traveler with its chain-like, family dining atmosphere, but as far as we could tell it’s an original. There’s a bar in the center of the building and an entire room for kids in front, with a Claw game and assorted other toys. The table service was perfunctory but the host was solicitous and chatty. The food itself was very hit-or-miss, so we’ll just tell you about the hits, as is our wont.

The French onion soup and roll were misses.

The apple-baked pork chops were a hit. They were two light, tender, boneless chops in a zippy glaze with (uncored) red apple slices baked on top. A reasonable portion of thin, crispy fries came on the side. This reinforces a subrule of A to Z: get the craziest thing at a restaurant where you’re worried the quality might be low (as long as it’s not a burger with cream cheese and olives).

A bit of chopped onion, tomato, and black olive garnished JM’s plate but ended up on Nichole’s burger:

• Bun: toasted, lightly buttered kaiser with sesame seeds.
• Meat: very juicy, molded patty with not much flavor other than grill smoke, but cooked to order.
• Bun/meat ratio: perfect (both huge).
• Cheese: Bleu; not crumbles, almost a creamy brie-like texture. Not much flavor if you’re used to really assertive bleu cheeses.
• Misc.: Two pieces of perfectly cooked bacon with a couple cranks of fresh black pepper was the best part of all. Yet the parts added up to a whole rating of only about a 6 of 10.

The decent garlic mashed potatoes that came with the burger, as well as the second pork chop, went into a to-go container.

The oddest part of our dinner was dessert, a peanut butter “friaza” (our server told us not to worry about pronunciation, since “the woman who sells them doesn’t even know how to say it”) or mousse with a peanut crust on top and liberal slatherings of chocolate syrup. This hard, hard-to-eat concoction was nothing special and barely bears remembering.

We wouldn’t really come back – though, if you have a tough time getting your spouse to eat out because everything in Madison is too fancy or too much money, Rodeside is neither.

In a word: Goes the distance and loses on decision.

The specs: #0552  
Address, hours & details via Isthmus; reviews at , Yelp, The Culinary Adventures of Jahboh and Tossy, listing at Eat Drink Madison; official web site, Facebook.

Andrea ate the #2 combo with salad, breadsticks and a soda.
Beth ate at the salad bar.
Chuck ate the sausage and pepperoni Super Slice.
JM ate the sausage and pepperoni Super Slice.
John R. ate the pepperoni pizza with a trip to the salad bar.
John S. ate the [sausage and pepperoni Super Slice, breadsticks with cheese and a fountain drink -- added after posting.]
Kami ate the #1 combo with a sausage and mushroom slice.
Kim ate the sausage and mushroom slice with a trip to the salad bar.
Lorraine ate a slice of garden pizza with a trip to the salad bar.
Nichole ate at the salad bar.
Rose ate the pepperoni pizza with breadsticks and a trip to the salad bar.
Ryan N. ate the garden pizza.
Steve ate the pepperoni and sausage pizza with a trip to the salad bar.
The bill was $6-8 per person.
Kami gave Rocky Rococo’s Party Pizzeria an A; Andrea, Beth P., John R., and Lorraine gave Rocky Rococo’s Party Pizzeria an A-; Ryan N. gave Rocky Rococo’s Party Pizzeria a B+; Chuck, Kim, Rose, and Steve gave Rocky Rococo’s Party Pizzeria a B; JM gave Rocky Rococo’s a B-; Nichole gave Rocky Rococo’s Party Pizzeria a C; Steve also gave Rocky Rococo’s Party Pizzeria an F for “fun” (see our grading rubric).

We were a lucky 13 again for this, JM’s sixth annual A to Z birthday work lunch partyfest-o-rama. A good time was had by all.

The draw of Rocky’s is not really the food, at least at this one. It’s the party part. At first glance, Ryan N. (on his first-ever trip to a Rocky’s) wasn’t sure if it was supposed to look more like a family fun restaurant a la  Chuck E. Cheese or more of a sit down restaurant, but despite the slight identity confusion, the interior was clean, colorful and interesting. Chuck said he was ‘offended by the Italian stereotypes until Saverio stopped calling him Chucky’. (We don’t get it either.) The ordering process was chaotic and crowded, but the counter service was reasonably fast.

Group consensus was that the salad bar was clean but not fresh, with slightly wilted lettuce mix and Romaine with a bit of an “iron luster” to it. The AYCE option got you a plate; if you ordered a single trip, you got a bowl, and Andrea noted that she wished she’d sprung for the plate just so her various piles didn’t have to touch. That’s understandable – the bar offered a wide, conventional (or exotic, depending on your point of view) selection of items: peas, chickpeas, raisins, mushrooms, cucumbers, black olives, broccoli, sunflower seeds, alarmingly rubbery hard boiled eggs, macaroni salad, et cetera, with Italian, French or ranch dressings. 

The pizza here is made in great baking-sheet-sized swaths. With that comes a thick, doughy crust and plenty of salt and fat (but that’s how they get all that flavor in, after all). If you get a vegetable slice, be prepared to have the veggies overwhelmed by the bulk underneath, as Ryan N. observed. Steve called the sausage the star of the pizza, and surprisingly tasty for a chain restaurant. JM, too, thinks Rocky’s sausage is the best of its standard meats, especially since they rarely offer anything that would be outside traditional pizza guidelines. Those who got breadsticks reported that they were good, though the marinara is blah. Get the cheez sauce for the upcharge if you must dip your dunkers.

After lunch we all played enough skeeball to win JM a mini-football set for his desk, and pet Rocky Rocowcow on the way out.

In a word: Not much call to muster your troops.

The specs: #0547  
Address, hours & details via Isthmus; reviews at Ultimate Madison Bar Tour, , listing at Eat Drink Madison; official web site (lots of lorem ipsum and Pat McCurdy).

JM ate the Canadian burger with a lemonade.
Nichole ate the Reuben.
We split some cheese curds.
The bill was $13.50, or $6.75/person, plus tip.
JM gave Regent Street Retreat a B; Nichole gave Regent Street Retreat a C+ (see our grading rubric).

Regent Street Retreat is a pretty typical campus-area bar. Their beer selection is comparable to their small collection of board games – serviceable, but no surprises. The menu wasn’t very exciting, either, but the bartender was friendly – make that downright ebullient.

The cheese curds came with a cup of ranch dressing and a short, sweet rendition of the Bubboon’s “Cheese Song.” In all other respects they were just average.

JM’s Canadian burger on ciabatta featured tender, thin slices of ham (hence the Canadian appellation), Swiss cheese (another Francophonic place, like Canada) and mushrooms. It was quite tasty, with a lightly toasted bun and a fresh leaf of lettuce.

The Reuben was made of a single, thick slice of brisket that wasn’t bad, but wasn’t great, either.

Hmmm, what else… we got a nice view of Indie Coffee’s new, somber paint job from our seats in the front window. Other than the view, and the collection of truly funny-awful fake IDs in a huge poster frame, there wasn’t much to make us ReTreat.