Via comments, Brian Greenberg recently asked what’s going on with the Salt Lake end of the Great Pizza Challenge. I figure my three loyal readers might like an update as well…

The last I heard was that Dave, the owner of Este, was still experimenting and making phone calls, trying to figure out how to actually get a pie from SLC to New York City intact. The logistics are apparently a bit more complicated than anyone anticipated, but he is confident he’ll figure it out. At this point, he’s thinking he will fly out to NY himself in about mid-September.

Meanwhile, Chenopup still hasn’t received any word from our local ABC affiliate on getting us some TV coverage. Doesn’t mean they won’t bite on his pitch, of course, just that they hadn’t as of the last time I talked to him. So, I guess the bottom line is that the Pizza Challenge is still in the works, but currently in a holding pattern. I’ll let you all know as soon as I hear anymore.

In related news, I myself experienced Este for the first time last week. At Cheno’s suggestion, we went there for lunch one afternoon. It’s a little hole-in-the-wall located in Sugarhouse, Salt Lake’s one-time bohemian district that is now slowly gentrifying all the hippies, goths, and artistic types clean out of the neighborhood (a damn shame, that). Este is unassuming on the outside, almost anonymous; to be honest, I’ve driven by it many times without ever noticing it. Inside, you’ll find four or five smallish tables, with a few more on the patio out front. You order from a tall counter that’s plastered with skateboarding, local band, and left-leaning political stickers. Dave himself was there that day, and he seemed very likable, a guy about my age (36) or perhaps a few years younger, with an impressively bushy black beard and a mellow demeanor. Like me, he earned an English degree from the University of Utah and now finds himself doing something for a living that he never quite imagined when he was at school. He earned my respect by remarking that if this little Pizza Challenge stunt ends up increasing his business much beyond its current capacity, he’d just as soon close down early each day and hang a sign on the door saying, “out of food,” than compromise the quality of his product due to the shortcuts required by mass production. That’s a cool attitude, in my book.

But you’re no doubt more interested in the food than my philosophical musings, aren’t you? Okay, fine, be that way. Continuing in the reviewer’s style, I had the lunch special, two slices with one topping each and a drink. The pizza is indeed similar to what I remember eating in New York ten years ago: a thin, flexible but not-too-chewy crust, not too much sauce or cheese, and served in massive wedges that must be folded in half to be easily manipulated. As for the flavor, well… it’s good. It’s damn good, in fact.

I had pepperoni on one slice, sausage on the other, and I liked both. The pepperoni was neither too greasy nor too peppery, complaints I have with the pepperoni used by other establishments, while the sausage — made by our local sausage masters at Colosimo’s — was simply divine, sweet and spicy in the sense of “lots of different overlapping flavors but not at all tongue-numbing or heartburn-inducing.” Yummy. I’d recommend Este without hesitation.

However, if Cheno was hoping that I’d renounce my own preference for another local pizzeria, Nevole’s, well, I’m afraid I disappointed him. I enjoyed Este and will happily eat there again, but when it comes to the place I call my pizzeria, I gotta stay loyal. Let’s be honest, though: these things are entirely subjective and based as much on external and personal factors as anything to do with the food. The Girlfriend and I like the pizza at Nevole’s, but we also like the place because we have a relationship with Nathan the manager; he knows us on sight and starts prepping our usual order before we even say “hello.” That’s something you don’t get at many places these days, certainly not at any of the chain establishments, and it’s pretty damn gratifying.