Brews, pies -- all Damgoode

Families have been riven over pizza preference. Brother set on brother, cities razed and fields salted. To acknowledge a favorite risks disturbing pitchforked sects convinced theirs is the one true pie. So divisive is the subject it is best avoided, or shrugged off with a cliche: pizza, like sex, is pretty good even when it is indifferently offered and unwarm.

Why waste our time arguing over which "pizza" is heretical? Come, let us adopt an ecumenical approach. Imagine a table where all pizzas are welcome. (It's easy if you try.) Give us your greasy Neapolitans, your thin-crust Chicagoans (yes, they exist), your New York-fold-in-halves and your unleavened St. Louisans. Hey, California-style, with your ricotta and pate, lose the kale and quinoa and come over here and get your hugging. This is Arkansas, a land of opportunity where we judge a pizza on its merits, not its pedigree.

We're graced with all sorts -- from Zaza's to Iriana's to Tommy's in Mountain View to Bentonville's Johnny Brusco's. Our Hillcrest neighborhood affords six pizza places within easy walking distance. The one we've walked to most often has been the Damgoode Pizza on Kavanaugh Boulevard -- the one shut down for renovation about the same time it opened up its new River Market location.

As we anxiously await the reopening of our cozy neighborhood place, we were skeptical of the new River Market space, in the former Boscos location. First of all, it's a big room that can ring as sterile as a prefab Irish pub from a kit. And Damgoode didn't do much redecorating -- the wood-accented dining room still has the vaguely aspirational clubby feel of the nouveau riche country club willing to take anyone who can pay dues.

Yet while studied tastefulness is at odds with the irreverent funkiness of the Damgoode brand, the staff and menu exhibit the same cheek as at the other locations. It's like visiting your no-account cousin in the new mini-manse he bought after hitting on a scratch-off ticket: You get the feeling it's just a matter of time before walls get paint-balled and there's a beer fridge in the master suite.

On the other hand, the outdoor seating area has a view and room for more than 50 diners. The patio has always been one of the best places to dine alfresco in the city. Weather permitting, it's the best option.

Another concern was the prospect of Damgoode using the on-site brewing equipment. As exciting as it sounds, not everyone who gets into making his own beer is successful. Given the proliferation of good locally sourced beer, we wondered if Damgoode's initial offerings would be worth the effort.

But Damgoode owner Jeff Trine enlisted Josh Quattlebaum, Boscos' former brewmaster, and Josiah Moody of Moody Brews, in the new operation. They've produced a short but excellent list of microbrews, the best of which may be Moody's Cuban Pull, a dark yet delicate ale infused with Cuban espresso.

Moody has also contributed a pleasingly strong (7 percent alcohol by volume) saison to the beer menu, Katchiri's Bier. Under the Damgoode Brews label, the restaurant offers four beers, including its Red Ribbon, a golden ale designed for some reason to mimic the benign but popular void that is Pabst Blue Ribbon; an excellent hefeweizen called "El Hefe"; a pale ale; and a porter.

If you're not feeling particularly adventurous it has other people's beers (locals Lost Forty, Stone's Throw, Diamond Bear, etc.) on tap as well. And there are 19 bottled varieties to choose from, including $2 PBR, $3 Miller Lite, $5 Guinness and $6 Tall Grass Buffalo Sweat.

As for the food, there's no reason not to order the pizza here. If you must, the Meatball Sammie ($9.49) offers a generous supply of nicely pliable meatballs, with melted mozzarella in a professionally realized red sauce with an emphasis on the basil. The Voodoo Pasta ($11.99) isn't as Tabasco kicky as it might have been, but it is a step up from ordinary, with chicken that plays nicely with Damgoode's grown-up red sauce, fettuccine, roasted bell peppers and onions. While one of our party found the pasta less tender than preferred, the rest of the table outvoted him -- it was appropriately al dente.

Another intriguing option is the Build Your Own pasta -- choose angel hair, fettuccine, or whole-wheat penne and a sauce (red, spicy white, Alfredo, pesto, or combinations thereof) for $7.49, then add meat for $2.99 and/or vegetables for 99 cents each.

Full-size salads (mixed leaf, spinach, chef, Caesar, Greek, and Toss Your Own) are touted as being ample enough for a meal. Which is true, if you want a less-than-spectacular lunch or supper. The Greek salad (large $10.99, half $5.99) is an unassuming yet sizable pile of lettuces accompanied by less sizable quantities of black olives, tomatoes, shredded mozzarella, what appear to be store-bought croutons, and a tiny amount of feta. Nothing wrong with it, but nothing really right, either. The addition of Parmesan peppercorn dressing and repeated sprinklings of the table's container of Parmesan improved matters. But this salad is definitely not the star of the show and under the circumstances lamentable for the lost opportunity it represents. One doesn't go to a pizza joint to eat salad.

Damgoode's pizzas are remarkably consistent from location to location, from year to year. It calls its hand-tossed pies "chewy, New York" style and while it's not what we'd describe as a New York-style pie (it's a bit doughier), our only quibble is with the nomenclature. It also offers a thin crust, and its major contribution to the science of pizza making is the Stuffy, a wonderful calzone-style pie that we are no longer allowed to daydream about, much less order.

These can be combined with four generously applied basic sauces -- red, white, Alfredo and pesto -- which can further be combined into pink, tomato basil, pesto cream and spicy Alfredo varieties. (And the pizza barista will probably whip up other combinations if you ask. Obviously these people care not for your bougy conventions.) There are 10 meat toppings, 15 vegetable toppings and six cheeses (blue, feta, cheddar, mozzarella, Parmesan and ricotta) from which to choose. If you mean to be your own pizza architect, Damgoode will gladly serve as your general contractor.

But why put yourself through the stress? Damgoode offers 15 signature pies in a variety of sizes -- from a 6-inch personal model to a 18-inch rhino choker -- some of which are already matched up with an appropriate sauce. These range from the venerable Margherita to the mildly exotic Hawaiian (Canadian bacon and pineapple) to the inevitable Hog (pepperoni, Canadian bacon, sausage, crumbled bacon and cheddar). These range in price from $4.99 for a 6-inch regular pepperoni to $40.99 for the weightiest pies. For the stuffed versions, add $6 to a 14-inch pie, $3.50 for a 10-incher and $1.25 for the personal model. (Ordering an 18-inch stuffy is not an option -- it would require a background check and mandatory six-day cooling-off period.)

We're glad to have Damgoode in the River Market, though chances are we won't go there too often after our local Kavanaugh location reopens. (Which should be soon.) But when we do, we'll drink the beer and eat the pizza. And dream of a world where partisans will lay aside their snide Yelp! commentary, their artisanal mozzarella di bufala and San Marzano tomatoes, and sit together at one table to enjoy this American pie.

Weekend on 07/02/2015