For a magical slice, track down this Palmer pizza truck

This week, a postcard from Anchorage writer Michelle Theriault Boots, another installment of “Shared Plates,” an occasional series of short guest essays about food and life in Alaska. I share the revenue from every paid subscription that comes in from the guest essay newsletter with the essayist. If you like what you read and don’t yet pay to subscribe, consider upgrading to show your support for this new initiative.

Shared Plate #3: A map to a magical pizza adventure in Palmer

This weekend my family and I were at Hatcher Pass, lounging among the still-green tundra and blooming fireweed, when we decided we were hungry and willing to drive. I recalled a slice of pizza I’d encountered in the area on a subzero bluebird March day. I was at Skeetawk, attending one of those youth ski races where your child races for 22 seconds and then you have to wait a couple more hours, when I stumbled on a shiny green food truck from Palmer-based Flour.ish.ing Pizza. I took off my hand-warmer-stuffed mittens and bit into a hot slice of margherita with a perfectly charred, blistered crust.

“Hot damn!” I said to no one in particular. “This pizza!”

Where was this roving pizza truck parked on this warm August weekend? Instagram told us Flour.ish.ing was at a place called Moonstone Farm, which I had never heard of. Quickly and unanimously, we decided to track it down.

The map took us to a zone I had previously considered a highway-adjacent netherworld between Palmer and Wasilla, passing a Carpet World, a Bailey’s furniture warehouse and a chiropractor. We turned down a dirt driveway and into a slice of farm heaven.

Moonstone was homesteaded in 1935 by a family whose descendants still run the farm today. The farm holds weekly market hours during summer on Thursday and Saturday from 2 p.m.-8 p.m. As the farm’s website says, you can pick up some produce, have a beer or wine and try a local food truck all at once. The on-site tasting room sits in a refurbished rail boxcar that dates to 1943.

The pizza truck was parked next to rows of greenhouses growing safety-cone-orange marigolds, huge cabbages, towering kale and rows of frond-y carrots. We ordered the “Alli-yum,” a pie with ricotta, garlic, sweet onions, mozzarella, Moonstone’s garlic scapes, green onions and flaky salt for my 13-year-old vegetarian and me. The rest of the family got pepperoni. We also bought some of the rhubarb kombucha on tap and root beer for the kids. Everyone stopped bickering, as if calmed by a rural idyll. (Around then, I noticed two of my children were not wearing shoes.)

While we waited, I wandered down to a farm stand to consider the glossy squashes and zucchinis, potatoes, kohlrabi. I soon found myself following a farmer to a field, where she pulled carrots out of the dirt, gave them a good wash and sent me back to my table. I carried a sweet, earthy orange and white bunch to the children. Meanwhile, three sandhill cranes were strutting around a stubbly field, honking their distinctive bugle.

One of the things about Alaska is that way you can stumble into a secret garden behind the auto body shops and asphalt or find a strip mall hole-in-the-wall that sells your obscure tropical fruit or discover a hidden orchard in the middle of the commercial sprawl of Anchorage or come upon a slice of pizza rivaling any sold in Seattle or Portland’s buzziest establishments at a Valley farm. There are always surprises here, if you’re willing to look for them.

(If you’d like to check out Flour.ish.ing or a market day at Moonstone Farm – or find out the next time the pizza truck will park at the farm – follow their social media accounts for updates.)

Michelle Theriault Boots is a longtime Alaska journalist and the current Atwood Chair of Journalism at the University of Alaska Anchorage. If you liked this essay, you might enjoy other Shared Plates, like ”Being a DoorDasher revealed where workers at my favorite Mexican restaurant order their lunch” by Kyle Hopkins, or “Why fried chicken is the best thing to bring to a potluck” by Matt Komatsu. Become a paying subscriber today to support Shared Plates and Michelle’s work!

What’s for dinner: It’s finally raspberry season, though kind of an underwhelming one, at least in my downtown alley. Even so, if you’ve got some supply, you might consider these satisfyingly chewy, extra thin raspberry chocolate chip cookies. Also on my list this week: this delicious-looking New York Times corn-salmon chowder. Should you make my favorite Peruvian chicken recipe on the grill even though it’s raining and the wind is howling? Yes, you should. Conversely, for comfort and warmth after a rainy first day of school this week, might I suggest some homemade Hamburger Helper? (You can totally use moose, if you have it.)

Little treats: Holy dang! Fair season hits this weekend. Better plan your trip. (Is it nerdy that I kind of want to see Lyle Lovett?) Speaking of food adventures in that direction, has anyone made it to Jason’s Donuts in Eagle River early enough to actually get one? Tell us everything! And, if you’re headed to Palmer, do pop into very adorable Lekker Coffee and get one for me? Also in that neighborhood: Pyrah’s u-pick farm is popping off right now. In new business news, has anyone had a bagel at Little Rituals Downtown yet? Finally, if you could use a dose of beautiful surreality, soak up this New Yorker micro-short story.

If you missed last week’s popsicle-slurping newsletter, here it is: “To soak in the last warm days of Alaska summer, drive north.” For paying subscribers, here’s what we were reading this time last year (remember how Trump and Putin were here?!): “Anchorage is a circus. This lunch spot will regulate your cortisol.”

This Alaska-loving, food-obsessed journalism project is put together by humans and involves no AI. Paying subscribers power it. If you appreciate this work, consider paying to subscribe today (half your money this week goes to Michelle!) An annual subscription keeps these newsletters coming to your inbox, buys you access to searchable recipe-filled archives and pencils out to $6.67 a month. (🚨If you have been a paid subscriber but your card expired, here’s a reminder to renew!) If you want to double-down on this growing local news project, become a founding subscriber for $240. 👑 Thank you so much to the growing circle of founders!

Please write with your favorite new fair food, magical Palmer food options, opinions on Lyle Lovett, and anything. Really.

Thank you, always, for reading.

Julia

P.S. For my newest recipes and access to stories I link to, subscribe to the Anchorage Daily News and Edible Alaska (and maybe get the New York Times cooking app). Find all my recipes and writing at juliaomalley.com.

P.P.S: Controversial video! Cloudberries get short shrift, imho. But wild blueberries are superior. (Wild strawberries, not featured, in Southeast are also amaze and so precious!) Finally: is a rose hip a berry?

** This newsletter is produced in part with the support, inspiration and community found at The Boardroom.

***Accuracy matters! If you find an error in this newsletter, let me know!