Chef Vittorio Renda, an Energizer Bunny of a guy who has managed to live among chilly Minnesotans for nearly three decades without losing his sunny Italian disposition -- or his thicker-than-pesto accent -- has delivered to 50th and France what none of us never knew it needed, yet suddenly seems unthinkable to live without. And that's a decent pizzeria.
True, Renda had a little help from his longtime employer, Parasole Restaurant Holdings, and his colleague, chef Heather Brinker. Mozza Mia is a marked departure from a company that has built a thriving business on appealing to the greatest common dining denominator. By embracing authenticity and slimming down its scope, Parasole has scored. Big.
The star of the show is pizza. Renda's formula is disarmingly simple, just an Italian low-gluten pizza flour, water, sea salt and fresh yeast with a slightly sour starter. Throw in dough that rises for 24 hours and two high-temperature wood-burning ovens (fueled by oak with the occasional toss of Italian cherry wood for extra smoke) and you get a distinctive crust that's thin but sturdy and slightly blistered, with a marvelous crackle on the outside that yields to a lightly chewy, slightly bready interior.
Each 10-inch round is a fine foundation for 10 well-calibrated pizzas. My favorite, the Margherita, is pizza at its most fundamental, with a thin layer of crushed San Marzano tomatoes, a few whole leaves of sweet basil, dots of mozzarella and some judicious splashes of Sicilian extra-virgin olive oil. The crowning touch is a sprinkling of dried oregano, crushed between the palms of the kitchen's expediter just before the pizza is rushed to the table. It's simplicity itself, and utterly delicious.
Favorable things continue to happen when flavors grow bolder and the combinations become more complex. There's a terrific sweet-salt dance going on when tiny figs and slowly caramelized onions are paired with gorgonzola and Iowa-made prosciutto. A feisty fennel salami blends beautifully with aged provolone and those crushed San Marzanos. The only one that doesn't really work, oddly enough, is the smoked bufala mozzarella version of the Margherita; the heavily smoked cheese overpowers the other ingredients.
As its punny name underlines, Mozza Mia also takes a somewhat fanatical approach toward mozzarella. The kitchen puts up a half-dozen fresh cheese choices, most created with mozzarella that's pulled fresh daily on the premises then finished with fruity olive oil and twinkling sea salt.
There are a few missteps. Do the salads sometimes taste harshly acidic? Yes. Can the kitchen get clumsy with the olive oil and the salt? Occasionally. Is $16 a lot to pay for a pizza? Maybe.
Then there are the rustic, affordably priced pastas. While they're not trying to be anything other than straight-up comfort food, they also don't compare to the far more interesting pizzas and cheeses, and their presence on the menu suggests that management is hedging its bets. Ditto the desserts. The gelato really hits the spot, but a messy strawberry tiramisu and a chocolate torte feel like afterthoughts.
Moschella + Roberts, Parasole's New York City-based design squad, keeps the setting very simple. Another reason for admiration: timing. Because nothing is terribly complicated, and the pizzas require about two minutes of baking time, the food flies out of the kitchen. Mozza Mia is also one of those rare pizzerias that accept reservations, which adds predictability into the going-out equation. The nearby Edina Cinema should be diverting a cut of its box office to Parasole, because dinner and a 7:30 screening of "The King's Speech" have seldom seemed easier.
