A year ago, my brother Teddy and I set out on a quest to find the best burger in Wayzata. We visited nine restaurants, had our fair share of disagreements, and ultimately walked away with full stomachs and several options to recommend and revisit.
Having so enjoyed our time together, I recently decided to text Teddy to see if he wanted to partake in a sequel. I suggested a few possibilities for our next taste-testing adventure, including French fries and chocolate ice cream. His response?
"Thanks, Alison, but I have to say no."
After 33 years of life alongside a brother with Down syndrome, it was the classic Teddy brevity and honesty I should have come to expect, yet still caught me off guard. I had clearly forgotten that, for him, our last quest had been more about the burgers, and far less about sibling shared experiences. And this reply was a perfect reminder, both of Teddy's priorities and one of his greatest strengths. In just eight words, he effortlessly reinforced his modus operandi — he knows what he wants and doesn't bother with anything that doesn't bring him happiness.
Shrugging off (or at least attempting to) the hurt (at his rejection) and jealousy (at his establishment of boundaries), I returned to the drawing board, confident that I simply had to find the right incentive. Then it hit me: pizza. He and his house family — Max, Paul and Christine — had pizza every Friday night. One of Teddy's first jobs had been at Joey Nova's in Excelsior. He had a longstanding relationship with pizza and quickly was on board, thrilled to "eat it all!"
His excitement fed mine, providing the extra jolt we'd both need to hit eight of our 10 chosen establishments in under three weeks. It would be a lot, but worth it, particularly because I was entering this quest with a larger plan: to subtly push Teddy outside his comfort zone. Rather than staying in Wayzata, a completely familiar environment, I wanted to expand our radius, taking Teddy to some of the top pizza joints in the Twin Cities area. I hoped to encourage him to sample new restaurants, immerse in new atmospheres and explore new styles. I wanted to stretch his boundaries, but in the confines and comfort of something he already loved — pizza.
And so we went forth, opting to always order pepperoni pizza, because with just bread, cheese, meat and red sauce, it's essentially an Italian cheeseburger. With each, we analyzed the various ingredients, along with the size, shape and overall flavor, those categories guiding our discussions and helping to determine our favorites.
Throughout our quest, I savored sampling each slice. But more so, I reveled in observing Teddy's reaction — to the food, to the people, and to the experience. Once again, and not surprisingly, he liked them all. Pure joy spread across his face as every pizza was placed before us. No matter the spice level, the cheese type or the amount of sauce, his initial reactions included words such as perfect, delicious and just right. He ate every shape, type and flavor without the slightest hint of displeasure or critique.