If you’re one of the types who eat only the pointy middle of a pizza slice, leaving the remaining bare crust edges behind, Mothership Pizza Paradise has found a way to get you to clean your plate. Crust Dippers, their cheffed-up versions of the Domino’s ranch cup, come in five flavors that’ll compel you to up your carb intake, at least until you run out of garlic butter.
If that reminds you of a certain kind of pizza nostalgia, it’s deliberate. Mothership Pizza Paradise is a throwback to the oregano-scented pizzerias of the past, where shakers of Parmesan are always on the table, and strawberry hard candies come with your check.
It’s the work of chef Tommy Begnaud, his wife Carrie Erickson, and business partner Courtney Briden, who are also behind the nearby Mr. Paul’s Supper Club and Mr. Paul’s Po’boys and Jams.

Location: 5057 France Av. S., Mpls., mothershippizza.com
Hours: Open 11 a.m. to 11 p.m. Tue.-Sun. No reservations.
The food: The owners’ and staff members’ mothers get their due in the names of the Neapolitan pizzas on the menu (there’s a Kay, a Connie, a Kathy, and an Also Kathy). Pies are served alongside pastas and an extensive list of appetizers that could take you in either direction: upscale Italian (hamachi crudo) or neighborhood pizzeria (garlic knots). Whatever your path, make sure there’s sauce.
I began with the Kay ($19), a baseline red sauce margherita. Margherita, or even a basic cheese, is the only way, in my opinion, to judge a new pizza on the scene, though I’ll be down for toppings on a future visit. As a starting point, this had the essentials down pat: a punchy red sauce base, creamy housemade mozzarella, a snowing of sharp Parm and a few shreds of basil on a sturdy crust pockmarked by the tiled woodfire oven at the back of the restaurant. The crust dippers are extra, and come $2 each or three for $5. I’m team garlic butter, though my companion loved the housemade pesto.
I was intrigued enough by the description to get the calamari ($15), which said it contained artichokes. This was no 30-year-old rendition of squid parts in breading, but a composed salad of green leaves intermingled with tangles of lightly fried squid and artichoke hearts over a smear of mayo. This could easily be a stand-alone lunch.