Credit: Eliza Sohn

A good neighborhood pizza joint is invaluable. It’s the place
to grab a quick slice when you don’t want to think about what’s for
lunch. It’s the place to bring a group to share a casual dinner. It’s
the place you have on your phone’s speed dial, so you can painlessly
drop in and grab a pizza to go, or have one delivered. It’s a friendly,
essential staple of the neighborhood.

My neighborhood pizza joint is SE Hawthorne’s famed Apizza Scholls,
which some claim has the best pizza in town. However, as a neighborhood
pizza joint, Apizza Scholls fails miserably: They don’t serve slices,
they don’t sell pies to go, and if you do stop in for some of their
admittedly fantastic pizza, you’ll face a daunting wait before getting
a table.

So in spite of Apizza Scholls’ top-notch pizza, I would happily
trade them for Good Neighbor Pizzeria, a homey, welcoming new
restaurant located off MLK in the Woodlawn neighborhood. The neon in
Good Neighbor’s window is exactly the kind of beacon that defines the
ideal neighborhood pizza joint. If prices are a little on the high end,
the portions are mighty, and the ingredients are fresh, regional, and
sustainable.

You can get pizza by the slice, and the slices are pretty damn big.
They also have specialty pies or you can create your own, either a
14-inch (way too much for two people) or an 18-inch (plenty for four).
Toppings run from apple-smoked bacon, organic seasonal fruit, salami,
and jalapeรฑos to ricotta, feta, and blue cheesesโ€”along
with everything in between. I’d recommend keeping the toppings simple,
though; one or two will do the trick. The dough is amply sturdy without
being too thickโ€”crisp and chewy in equal, appropriate
amounts.

If you’re not in the mood for pizza, you may be in the wrong place,
but there are actually plenty of legitimate other options. A
ricotta-stuffed calzone the size of a small blimp is large enough to
stifle the most demanding of appetites. An uneventful but pleasant
house salad comes with a heap of oil-drenched bell peppers; Caesar and
spinach salads are also available. Good Neighbor’s menu also includes a
half dozen sandwiches served on house-made focaccia. I recommend the
“Bird,” a pesto-flecked sandwich with soft, creamy free-range chicken
breast and Gouda.

You may also be tempted by the garlic knots, soft twists of
bagel-like dough flavored with garlic and parmesan. I found them a tad
bland, but I won’t hesitate to urge you to go one step further and get
the meatball slider, which puts a peppery meatball inside the garlic
knot with mozzarella and tomato sauce. It decadently hits all the right
notes: greasy, cheesy, chewy, snappy, satisfying.

There’s a full bar, and a small selection of wine; beer from
Southeast Portland’s excellent new Hopworks Urban Brewery (HUB) flows
through the single tap line. French-press Stumptown coffee is also
available. The dining room is uncluttered and inviting, if a little
chilly; service is casual, but unfailingly warm. Front windows open
like garage doors for warm weather, and picnic tables are outside. Late
weekend hours, a cocktail menu, and an open mic night all indicate that
Good Neighbor wants to be more than just a place to grab a slice. And
that’s what a good neighborhood pizza joint isโ€”a friendly hangout
that feeds, reflects, and defines its neighborhood.

Good Neighbor Pizzeria

800 NE Dekum
285-7400

Ned Lannamann is a writer and editor in Portland, Oregon. He writes about film, music, TV, books, travel, tech, food, drink, outdoors, and other things.