Wrecktangle Pizza

The food was so good & honestly the leftovers were as delicious as it coming out of the kitchen! Root beer was tasty. This is the kind of place I'd love to have dinner with my friends before a night out. I was on vacation with my 2 teens & they enjoyed it as well.

Delicious! Me and my wife started with delicious cocktails. She had the spicy Mezcalita and i had the Old Fashioned. Loved the curry bitters! And then we shared a Shredder pizza. Just right amount of a little heat balanced with the honey…super tasty! We’ll be back again.

Sooooo delicious. Waiters were very kind and positive. The pizza I could eat for days. I had to MN sushi and that was nice and light and helped me from digesting myself because I was so hungry.

We were a group of 6. We ordered the Caesar salad and garlic cheese sticks to start- both were great, the salad creamy and fresh, the marinara sauce complimented the cheese sticks well. For pizzas we ordered the veggie and Earth Wind and Fire 3.0. The veggie was amazing, especially after adding some marinara sauce and red pepper flakes. The Earth Wind and Fire was a little disappointing, the lemon ricotta was overwhelming - bottom line I think I just enjoy red sauce pizzas better, the rest of the group liked it. I would defiantly go back, staff and service were top notch.

Wrecktangle Wreck-tales: A Saucy Standoff On Fridays, the gym rats, Mike, and I flex our muscles. One such Friday, we decided to test the hype around Wrecktangle Pizza in Uptown. I parked my car on Aldrich Avenue, a free parking spot, a rare gem in a city where even breathing seems to cost money. I strutted towards the main door, only to find it locked. A sign directed me to an inconspicuous entrance on Lake Street. I could swear the entire restaurant was laughing at my failed break-in attempt! Once inside, I was warmly greeted and given the choice to brave the elements or enjoy the air-conditioned paradise. Patio, please! Mike, fashionably late, showed up gasping for icy water. The waitress, ever so kind, fetched it post-haste. However, with a seasoned salesperson's persuasive skills, Mike talked me into trading the patio's ambiance for the indoor freeze. As we sat inside the restaurant, our waitress Ms. Bryn, who seemed to have wrestled with life and won, promptly came and greeted us and asked if we wanted anything to drink, as the spot also had a full bar longer than the Las Vegas strip. Mike ordered a 1919 Root Beer with ice, Bryn told him that the drink came in a super cold mug, but Mike persisted and finally won the battle; Root Beer in an ice-cold mug with ice for him and plain old water with no ice for me. Our pizzas, mirroring each other in toppings but differing by a slice count of six to two, were officially ordered at 3:02 PM. The eatery, with an ambiance like a metal concert and a personality split between a bar, restaurant, and gift shop, buzzed louder than a bee on caffeine. Children wailed, music played, and Mike, perhaps overwhelmed, enquired about the existence of a cotton candy store. Outside, the scene was equally tumultuous, with ambulances, near-accidents, panhandlers, and a comical line of patrons trying to pry open the dummy door. Mike, playing spy, whispered that Bryn was having a tequila party at the bar. Mike's Root Beer looked so refreshing that I ordered one too. Our pizzas arrived at 3:27 PM. Mike, ever the critic, complained about the lack of tomato sauce. I hadn't noticed until he pointed it out, and suddenly, I felt like I was munching on cheese bread. Mike, playing the hero, fetched some sauce from Bryn. It did improve the pizza, but the show's star was the 1919 Root Beer. Boxing the leftover pieces for my wife and sister-in-law, I also packed some of the now-precious sauce on Mike's insistence. The end was near as Bryn presented us with the bill. She inquired about its division - separate, thank you - and then dropped a sauce bomb. Who was to pay for it? What followed was the most "Minnesota nice" standoff I'd ever seen. Armed with pizza-photo evidence, Mike, Bryn, master of the gaslighting technique. I felt like a kid stuck in a grown-up quarrel, wishing to disappear under the table. In a masterstroke of sarcasm, Bryn offered to deduct the sauce - a proposal Mike met with an enthusiastic 'yes.' As I fled the madhouse, I reflected on our adventure: the pizza- meh!, the atmosphere like a rock concert, but the 1919 Root Beer was absolutely heavenly. Wrecktangle Pizza gets a generous 3.5 stars from me. Would I return? Only if I could bring my own sauce. But, given the likelihood, I might also win the lottery tomorrow!