I’ve written a lot about pizza. Scan through previous blogs and you’ll find that I’ve penned that pizza is “more reliable than any lover.” To quote myself, “There’s no amount of money I wouldn’t spend, no distance I wouldn’t travel, no obstacle I wouldn’t overcome for the sake of pizza.” I’ve made questionable choices in the name of pizza before. Drove a little unsafely to reach my final destination–obviously, it was pizza. At the risk of sounding narcissistic, I’ll quote myself once more, “These are the choices that I make for love of pizza. I will never know a greater love.” I used to believe that there was no such thing as decent pizza past Pittsburgh. I’ve grown and I’ve learned. There is good pizza in the midwest. It exists as indisputably as death, taxes, and rats. There is also bad pizza in the midwest, so you have to seek out the good stuff. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again and again: pizza is a love language. Frankly, most pizza places don’t actually speak the love language of pizza–it’s a rare thing. Serving up some dough covered in sauce and cheese doesn’t automatically make you fluent. Love is rare; hard to come by. It doesn’t happen every day. Which, perhaps, is why it’s taken me so long to write about the pizza that is actually, hands down, my absolute favorite in Fort Wayne. It can be a lot easier to tell someone that you “like” them, or even that you “like like” them, than it is to express your love.
Saying “I love you,” for the first time can be a scary thing–almost as scary as outwardly admitting which pizza place in Fort Wayne is your favorite. (Imagine doing both in one breath: I’m gonna, baby–if you’ll just stick with me a little longer…) While many Midwesterners might not actually know what good pizza is, they certainly have some fucking strong opinions. But, I suppose that’s historically been the American way–stay ignorant, but hold your uninformed opinion horrifically strongly. God forbid you show up and suggest that a Midwesterner’s favorite little hut selling cardboard covered in ketchup and melting plastic isn’t heaven sent and delicious beyond measure. Look, I love pizza more than I love my own mother. (Sorry, mom! But, we both saw this coming.) I try to have an open mind because I genuinely believe that there is a time and place for all pizzas, regardless of type or quality. But, even with an open mind, I’m going to form my own, (well) informed opinions. I can’t help it. I’m human. There is a pizza place in Fort Wayne that I fell in love with at first bite. I go back over and over again–you couldn’t pay me to stay away. If pizza really is a love language, they speak it fluently. I no longer feel that I need to prioritize getting a pie when I visit home. The stuff being served up by this pizza place in Fort Wayne is just as good–if not better–than any New York (or if you know your shit: New Jersey) slice that I can get in the tristate area when I’m back home on the East Coast. But how do I summarize all of my immeasurably strong feelings about this pizza place? How do I sum it all up into a few pithy paragraphs? It’s easier to say nothing than to try to explain how much I love Johnny OX Pizza and fail at getting my point across clearly–so I’ve stayed quiet. I’ve stayed quiet for too long. If Johnny OX isn’t your favorite pizza in Fort Wayne: you’re wrong.
Recently, The Local did a brilliant write up on Johnny OX pizza. (I don’t believe in competition. I want everyone to win. I’ll link to it right here: https://www.thelocalfw.com/johnny-ox/) If you have any questions on Chef Johnny Bojinoff, The Local article will surely have answers. A graduate of Le Cordon Bleu, Chef Johnny learned how to craft artisanal, neapolitan style pies in Oregon. He already had an extensive history with bread making–his first passion–so pizza was a logical next step. This might explain why the crust on Johnny OX pizzas is so fucking delicious. The dough is fermented for a superior crust. I was recently eating pizza with a friend and she lamented, “I need to just grow up and learn to eat my crust.” To this type of thinking I scream, emphatically, “NO!” If a chef can’t be bothered to make a genuinely delicious pizza crust, you are under no obligation to consume that shit. Some pizza crust belongs in the compost pile. Dips like hot honey and ranch shouldn’t be necessary for consuming the crust: they should be an added bit of flare that makes an already extraordinary crust a little extra fun and fancy. That’s exactly how it is with Johnny OX’s pizza and that is one of the billion reasons why I love them so much.
I am always honest with you, even when I’m sugar coating the truth. But here’s where I need to get really honest. On National Pizza Day, I went to Johnny OX Pizza and ordered a pepperoni pie to take home and enjoy. I paid for it and waited for my pizza to come out of the oven–because, one of the many cool things about Johnny OX, is that your pizza will always be fresh out of the wood fired oven. It would have been a good day if I’d simply gotten my pepperoni pizza as expected–like, I even ran into a friend in line while waiting for pizza. My day was going pretty well. Chef Johnny decided to whip up the pizza I ordered, plus their Angel’s Peruvian Chicken Pizza, plus all the dips, plus their Simple Field Greens+ Crumbled Gorgonzola salad, plus a sugar cookie, and one of their absolutely dope chocolate brownies. I was floored. I didn’t expect this kindness. I tried to play it cool but, yes, I almost cried in the car on the way home. It was this act of kindness coupled with my genuine love of Johnny OX Pizza that made me realize that I need to stop fucking around and pretending like I don’t have an absolute, unequivocal, indisputable favorite pizza in Fort Wayne. “The Best” is a title that exists and should be handed out to the place that actually deserves it: and that’s Johnny OX.
Let’s start with the salad. I am a girl who will swoon over a simple salad. If I was in the mood for just a super simple salad and didn’t want to make it myself–I’d go to Johnny OX. For $6 you can get a salad of mixed field greens, with crumbled Gorgonzola, and a seriously craveable truffled-white balsamic vinaigrette. Despite loving a salad, I admittedly seek them out a little less often when the weather is cold. But in warmer months: I genuinely crave this elegant, sophisticated simple salad. The truffled-white balsamic vinaigrette is beyond description–you’ll simply have to try it for yourself. The crumbled Gorgonzola adds just that slight creamy, funky edge to the salad. It keeps things interesting. If I close my eyes while eating it, I’m in Europe with my lover: I’m carefree and enjoying my scrumptious salad–maybe with an expensive glass of wine–and my lover is paying for everything. If you’re all for eating your greens, this salad is not to be missed. Chef Johnny isn’t playing around–he’s got the training, he’s got the knowledge, he’s got the palate, and he’s going to make you eat your veggies and love it.
Next, the pizza I actually ordered and paid for–the OX Pepperoni. The fact that this pie only costs $26 is an absolute steal. Chef Johnny is meticulous when it comes to choosing ingredients for his pies. You can trust that you’re getting high quality and thoughtfully crafted cuisine when you eat anything from Johnny OX. Their pepperoni pizza is their gorgeous, slow-fermented dough topped with organic marinara, whole milk mozzarella, and dotted with Ezzo natural cased, old world, dry-cured fermented pepperoni. Sounds simple enough, right? Yeah, because at the end of the day it’s just pepperoni pizza. It’s one of the best pepperoni pizzas I’ve ever had–not because it involves rocket science, but because it is exceptionally crafted and uses quality ingredients. Drink whatever you want to drink with your pizza of choice. But if you’re having The OX Pepperoni, consider a Cabernet-Shiraz blend or a Cab Franc. I’m also all about the Gamay, but I wouldn’t kick a Syrah out of bed if it showed up with a Johnny OX pie.
The second pie that I had the honor of trying was Angel’s Peruvian Chicken. This is the chicken pizza that will make you be like, “Bye, American BBQ. It was fun while it lasted, but I’m moving on to better things.” Chef Johnny brings his family’s Macedonian and Puerto Rican influences into the cuisine he crafts–and we’re all better off for it. (This girl spent many of her childhood summers in Puerto Rico and has been missing alcapurrias since moving to the Midwest.) I’ll be honest: I’ve seen Angel’s Peruvian Chicken pizza on the menu and have never ordered it because I know that I love their pepperoni pie, I know that I’m obsessed with the I Learned It In Oregon pie, and all of their limited-time special pies are always so enticing. It can be really difficult–nearly impossible–to break your own habits and try something new. If Chef Johnny hadn’t gifted me this pie, I might have never tried it. Now, it will have to be part of my regular pizza rotation–it’s too good to be missed! Atop their expertly fermented, leopard-spotted crust is an Extra Virgin Olive Oil base, melty whole milk mozzarella, Garlic-Lime Miller’s Amish Country Chicken Breast, a bright red speckling of Sweety Drop Peppers, thin slivers of red onion, crumbles of Queso Fresco, and a generous drizzling of ají verde. Don’t know what ají verde is? That’s okay! It’s a super creamy green sauce made from ají peppers and things like garlic, scallion, cilantro, and lime. Nothing about this pie is spicy, but holy moly is it bursting with flavor! The little red peppers give each slice a subtle pop of sweetness. The chicken is beyond tender–it’s the best chicken pizza I’ve ever had, no competition. I could bathe in the green sauce. If it’s not already, make ají verde part of your vocabulary immediately and consume it regularly. I didn’t expect to eat this pizza today, so I didn’t have a wine on hand to pair with it. I personally love a New Zealand Sauvignon Blanc, and I think this high acid white would play nicely with Angel’s Peruvian Chicken pizza. However, I think the pro move is probably to get a Vinho Verde. I will definitely be seeking out a bottle for the next time that I enjoy this pizza.
As for the sweets that I got to enjoy, the sugar cookie was yummy as heck. Cookies after a meal are always such a treat. This one wasn’t the overly soft, frosted sugar cookies that you’ll often find on dessert tables. This cookie had texture–it was firm and crumbly, almost reminiscent of a shortbread. I wish I could tell you more about it, but I let my bestie finish it because my attention was completely stolen by the brownie. Nobody is surprised. As much as I love cookies, I am a fickle mistress–and anything chocolate, but especially brownies, will always have the power to steal my attention. If you’ve read the article put out by The Local, you’ll know that this brownie is genuinely straight out of Chef Johnny’s culinary school syllabus. This is not a fudgy brownie–it’s a cake brownie, but it’s creamy. If I’m ever having a bad day, you can fix it by buying me a brownie from Johnny OX.
Chef Johnny has got the training, the tools, and the talent: he’s genuinely mastered his craft. Go to Union St. Market any day of the week and you’ll see this man and his protégés slinging picture perfect pies with the elegance and intensity of the shop’s namesake: the noble and gentle ox. Look even closer, and what do you see? Every single recipe is visionary and the ingredients are consistently of the highest quality. Every bite from point to crust of a Johnny OX slice is a sacred journey through the prowess and expression of a culinary virtuoso. Do you have a favorite pizza place in Fort Wayne? If it isn’t Johnny OX, I hate to be the one to break it to you, but you’re wrong. I will sing it from the mountaintop until the chorus of my fellow disciples rings throughout the land: Chef Johnny is the pizza messiah, and Johnny OX is our temple.
Plonk & Pleasure 
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