Fun & Frustration In Portland's Artisan Pizza Scene: The Chef, The Writer and the Chaos

It seemed like a simple stunt. Why would it haunt me? At the end of 2023, I made a lightning-strike visit to Portland, Oregon—proclaimed by the globe-trotting pizza eaters at Modernist Pizza as the nation’s number-one pizza city. With a list informed by the Modernist Pizza crew’s favorite pizzerias, I hit five pizza joints in two days and wrote about the experience. In writing that story, I made a rather benign comment about Ken’s Artisan Pizza.

Fifteen months later, the lesson is loud and clear: Be careful what you say on the interwebs. It can boomerang. It can come at you like Marley's Ghost carrying a pizza delivery bag--and who knows what's really inside? 

I recently told a fellow pizza geek about this journey Portland, and he asked, “Did you go to Lovely’s Fifty-Fifty? Scottie’s? Red Sauce? Apizza Scholls?” Yes, yes, yes, and yes.
 
But as reported in my resulting story, I didn’t go to Ken’s Artisan Pizza. As I wrote in the original article:
 
“Ken Forkish no longer owns Ken’s Artisan Pizza.
 
“I didn’t find this out until I was in Portland. Recent Google reviews suggest that his departure has left the place with a leadership void. A few diners are suggesting the pizzeria is merely a faint shadow of its former pizza self and they don't care for the experience.
 
“You can't always go by such reviews. But there were enough of them that I'd save Ken's for another day. So after ruminating on the Modernistas’ other notable pizzerias, I decided: Screw it. I’m abandoning the list.”
 
That was around Christmas 2023. It is now Easter 2025. Just a few weeks ago, in March, I received this message on Instagram. It comes from Vincent Krone, “the self-proclaimed bad boy of the professional pizza underworld.”
 
He says, “Hi there! I’ve come across your story about Portland multiple times while doing random pizza related searches and looking up all things pizza related. I should introduce myself.
 
“I’m the chef of Ken’s Artisan Pizza. I have been working there since April of 2019. I was around and for the most part running the kitchen since before we reopened for dine in service after the Covid shut down. I was around before Ken sold the restaurant and have been around ever since.
 
“I just wanted to say that I wish you stopped by and tried us.
 
“Ken was the owner and for a while led us in the direction he wanted things to go but it’s not like he was in the kitchen making things happen.
 
“I’ve done my best to keep things the way we spent the last six years putting into motion as far as the product is concerned. I’m now planning to move on from Ken’s and for what it’s worth I’m on my way out and I just wanted to share that.”
 
Wow. I reread it. And I thought, He could’ve been pissed off, but it doesn't read that way. He seemed pretty good natured about it all. But what did I actually say? As I recalled, it was pretty benign.
 
So I went back to the original blog post and hunted down the passage.
 
Yeah, I can see how he might be feeling frustration by my secondhand report of diminished quality and a leadership void—though I did also say that you can’t believe everything you read.

Still, if my comment keeps following him around the internet, that's no fun. 
 
So I wrote him back, which met with a speedy reply:
 
“I think my message to you probably came off as me being a bit more upset by what was written than I really meant for it to be… 

"And to be completely honest, I already deleted the message I sent you, so I don’t fully remember everything I said.

"Apologies if I got emotional…”
 
I thanked him for his civility, and sent a copy of his message back to him for reference. I also proposed an interview about his work and my comments, along with an update and a link to the interview in my original story.
 
If you don’t know the backstory on Ken's Artisan Pizza, founder Ken Forkish is a former Silicon Valley “engineer and sales guy” who opened Ken's Artisan Bakery in Portland. That success was followed several years later by his pizzeria. He's a James Beard and IACP award-winning cookbook author, and his pizzeria has been given many, many “best of” nods in the culinary press.

 
Chef Vincent Krone! Thank you for being here. I really appreciate your willingness to play with Free The Pizza.
 
Thanks for having me! I’ve quickly become a fan of your pizza content and I’m excited at the opportunity to contribute to it.
 
 
For you, today is "foraging Monday." What does that mean? What are you foraging and where?
 
The pizzeria is closed on Mondays. One of my favorite ways to spend it is in nature, AND the more remote and unoccupied the place, the better.
 
I’ve found it to be the best way to reset my anxious brain after spending a busy week crammed inside a small restaurant filled to the brim with people.
 
The Pacific Northwest is an amazing place for mushrooms, especially in the areas surrounding Portland. Depending on the season, I’ve been able to find chantarelles, oyster, porcini (and other boletes), matsutake, yellow foot (AKA winter chantarelle), morels, and a few lesser known choice edibles. (I’ve found a few magic ones too, but we’ll save that for another conversation.)
 
As far as Monday went, we are at the very start of morel mushroom season up here in Oregon. Riparian morel varieties are the first to show up in the warmer areas, and there is a pretty well known spot about 20 minutes outside the city.
 
We didn’t find any, but I ended up bringing home a few pounds of Verpa Bohemica (AKA Early Morels, Spring Morels, or False Morels depending on who you talk to), which I consider a slightly lesser choice—edible but still very tasty.
 
And as a bonus, I picked some stinging nettles which are a seasonally abundant wild green that can be blanched and used much the same way as spinach or kale. I ended up sharing everything I had foraged the very next day at a Sourdough showcase and promotional event for a local knife maker, Steelport Knife Co. It was definitely a cool feeling to be able to share my bounty with the public.
 

Let’s go way back to the beginning. What was your inspiration for becoming a chef?
 
I’ll go all the way back! I was told my first word as a baby was “Eat.” I’ve always seemed to love food since before I can remember.
 
My inspiration comes from a few places. My Dad is a good cook, not a professional by any means but always had a real talent for it. Like most middle-class kids of the era, both of my parents worked full time, so my brothers and I were left to fend for ourselves when it came to afterschool snacks.
 
That was probably a big reason I started cooking at a fairly early age and, thankfully, enjoyed it. I decided pretty early on in my life that if being a professional soccer player or some sort of extreme sports athlete didn’t work out I would probably want to cook for a living.
 
I grew up in Mesa, AZ during the nineties. So we didn’t have a lot of variety when it came to interesting foods or restaurants outside of Mexican food (which to this day is a close rival to pizza as my favorite food to eat).
 
I think this sort of lack of culinary variety may have been why I developed a healthy curiosity for any foods that I considered to be unique or exotic. I love trying new foods, and I love the feeling of “discovering” a new flavor. It’s almost like seeing a color for the first time that you didn’t know existed.
 
And then, learning the history and tradition that goes along with that newly discovered food is an added bonus.

There’s so much history and humanity tied to the foods we eat, and I love learning about it all. It gives cooking a much deeper meaning for me.
 
 
How did you train for your career as a chef? Culinary school, on the job, something else?
 
I went to Scottsdale Culinary Institute Le Cordon Bleu straight out of high school, which was the best and worst thing I ever did with my life.
 
I graduated with an associates degree in culinary arts in 2005. I was sent off into the world with a good chunk of student-loan debt while set up with the knowledge and skills to pursue a very low-paying, very high-demanding career.
 
Outside of a 6-month stint steam cleaning carpet and tile in my early twenties, I have been cooking professionally non-stop for the past 20 years.
 
I’ve worked in kitchens of all different shapes and sizes. I’ve worked in small cafes, quick service restaurants, sports bars, hotels, banquets, catering, brew pubs, slice shops, high volume, low volume, and a little bit of fine dining.
 
I spent one season doing production catering for the crew of a reality show at CBS Studio City in LA. That was a pretty crazy experience.
 
The focus these last 10 years has been primarily on wood-fire cooking, the majority of that being wood-fired pizza, the last six years of which was spent at Ken’s Artisan Pizza.
 
 
For people who don’t know, how would you explain Ken’s Artisan Pizza?
 
We are sort of a craft-focused pizzeria. For sure, it’s been a staple in the Portland pizza world for the better part of two decades.
 
Artisan is a good description of what we do in terms of our ethos. We pay attention to every detail of the whole pizzamaking mission. And I know it’s a pretty tired talking point, but I truly make an effort to source the best products that I can.
 
In terms of style, our pizza currently leans toward Neo Neapolitan, with a strong focus on local and seasonal produce. I’m routinely buying at Portland’s famous PSU farmers market every Saturday, as well as buying directly from several area farms where I’ve made connections over the years. We also have a really awesome independent retail grocery store a few blocks from us where we can get local produce from between markets in a pinch.
 

And how did you end up running the kitchen at Ken’s?
 
By sticking around for so long. In March 2019, I was leaving my previous job as a lead pizza cook at another wood-fired Portland restaurant. I loved making Neapolitan pizza, but otherwise I wasn’t having a good time there and needed to move on. Honestly, I was planning on giving up on pizza, possibly even cooking altogether, and taking things in a different direction.
 
My wife and I had planned a long delayed honeymoon, a 10-day tour of Italy at the beginning of April 2019. But before that happened, my good friend Mike Kurtz was working for Ken at another pizza spot he owned called Checkerboard Pizza. Mike reached out to me, and told me Ken was looking for someone to cover a couple shifts at Ken’s Artisan Pizza.
 
I had a couple days off that weren’t filled with plans. So I worked two shifts at the pizzeria. Ken apparently thought I was up to snuff. So he offered to hire me upon my return from Italy.  I’ve been there ever since.
 
I took over as Chef/Pizzaiolo in the summer of 2021, I believe, right before we reopened for indoor dining after the pandemic restrictions were lifted.
 
 
The Ken’s Artisan Pizza reputation is extraordinary. What's it been like, doing that job in that place at that time?
 
It’s all been a bit of a blur since reopening for dine-in service in 2021. Peter Kost, the current owner, took over the GM duties. Ken had put me in charge of the food side of things, and had entrusted me with a little bit more creative freedom than he had given previous kitchen managers.
 
That’s when we really started to focus on how we could improve the operation while still staying true to Ken’s original vision of what he wanted his pizza to be, along with the service and all the other aspects of our guests’ experience.
 
The reception and attention that we have received since then has been unreal.
 
I like to think our success is due to a combination of a few things. Firstly, the reputation of Ken Forkish and his contributions as a baker and author are a good foundation to build off of. [NOTE: That is an affiliate to link to Ken Forkish's excellent pizza book on Amazon.]
 
Secondly, the pizzeria’s strong reputation preceded the current staff. It was built over years and years, since the time of Monday Night Pizza at Ken’s Bakery [beginning in 2005].

There’s that, along with the team’s incremental improvements to the pizza and service since I’ve been a part of it. We’ve developed a very high-quality product and experience that we care about deeply.
 
We care about what we do, and I like to think it shows. So combine all that with the luck of getting the attention of the right people, being put on a few internet lists that were circulated in social media and shared in various major-media outlets, and almost overnight our already busy pizzeria is doing about twice the amount of business.
 
At first, it was insanely rough trying to deal with the new pace. But we adapted to the change as it happened. It was a huge challenge, but we put our heads down and worked through it and came out stronger on the other end.

We’ve been killing it ever since.  
 
 
I wrote a couple of bland things about Ken’s based what I’d seen in Google reviews, and those things kept following you around the internet. You reached out to me, which is how we ended up here. As a chef, how do you feel about the wild world of Google reviews?
 
It’s a double-edged sword.
 
The biggest flaw of the platform is that sometimes it can be hard to decipher whether the review is coming from an expert or a complete idiot. It’s a level playing field where everyone’s words can carry the same weight.  
 
For the most part, I find reading reviews to be very useful as a chef. And sometimes its purely for entertainment. I check Google reviews about once every two weeks or so just to see how we’re doing, or if there were any issues that may not have been brought to my attention.
 
I don’t actually have access to our Google account, so I’m not able to respond—which, to be honest, is probably for the best.
 
Positive reviews are always nice. And sometimes, they can be very uplifting when you’re going through a rough period. So I always want to encourage people to keep spreading the love when they feel the desire to do so. You never know how much a kind word can help someone out.
 
On the other end of the spectrum, I take the negative reviews with a grain of salt. I welcome harsh criticism from people who appear to have some knowledge in what we do. Their feedback can be helpful. Sometimes, it’s hard to see what’s going on without an outside perspective. It drives me to be better.
 
Ken’s is an extremely hyped-up pizzeria, and sometimes people just want to trash us. The majority of our one-star reviews are things that are out of my control, or they’re just totally bogus. So it’s pretty easy for me to stomach.
 
The only thing that really gets to me is when I see something that just isn’t factually true. If there’s a misconception about us out there that I might be able to shed light on, for better or worse, I'll attempt to fix it. I’m big on honesty.

 
Is there anything else you’d like to say about Ken’s?
 
Its been such an honor to be a part of it all. I never thought I’d ever receive so much love from my community and beyond. All the awards accolades are cool too.
 
But the thing I’ve enjoyed most is the connections with so many of my coworkers over the years, the farmers and producers and customers, along with friends I’ve made within the pizza community, both here in Portland and around the world. 
 
It’s really an amazing feeling now that I’ve taken some time and reflect on it all.
 
I’m generally a shy and introverted person. So to be able to share the love of what I do with so many people and get to do it on my own terms has meant everything to me. I’m very thankful.
 
 
Do you have a favorite pizza?
 
I love all pizza. Its hard to pick a favorite. I’ll be a little philosophical and say that my favorite pizza is the one I haven’t tried yet. That’s probably the most honest answer I could give you.
 

If you were going to have a last-meal pizza, what would it be, and would you make it yourself?

​I honestly would just love a basic, giant, New York style party pizza (like the one from Venezias that Walter White threw on the roof in an episode of Breaking Bad). But I would want to be able to share it with the people I care about, ultimately sharing a moment with those people would matter way more to me than what I was actually eating. I wouldn’t want to cook it myself. I love cooking but to me, food always feels more special when someone else makes it. 
 
I’d also like to take this moment to do a PSA and address anyone reading this that may have a chef or cook in their life who they feel intimidated to cook for because the food isn’t “fancy” or impressive. Please ignore that feeling and just feed us! PLEASE!
 
We live for home-cooked meals. We rarely get them, and it means the absolute world to us whenever we do!!!!  I don’t think there’s a single chef worth their salt that would disagree with me on that.
 

In an email to you, I made a smartass remark about ranch dressing. You replied that you believe ranch dressing has a place on pizza. Which I don’t object to. For me, my snarkiness is more because ranch dressing has become an icon for conspicuous consumption on a mass scale. Really, ranch dressing is an emulsion and emulsions have their place on pizza. So anyway, the question: Is there anything that doesn’t belong on pizza?
 
I don’t think so. I mean I have tremendous respect for those that spend their time and energy preserving and sticking to traditional pizza styles. There’s strong need and a place for that in the world.
 
Outside of that, I think pizza has a broad meaning and it’s a blank canvas. The wilder and more creative people can get with it the better, with the only rule being that it needs to taste good.
 
We should always be pushing boundaries and reinvent what we perceive as pizza, and continue searching for something new and exciting. That’s the spice of life.
 
 
Have you ever been required to make a pizza that you believe to be a crime against pizza?
 
I don’t like to think of myself as an elitist, but yes, I’ve had to make some complete trash at the customer’s request.
 
We do our best to steer people in the right direction in terms of modifying our menu. And luckily, people trust us for the most part.
 
But sometimes, it’s better to just swallow your pride and put out something that you know in your heart is just awful, and frown a bit every time another guest catches a glimpse (or a video) of whatever abomination that they made us create for them. But that’s what the customer wanted. As long as they’re happy with it, I guess I did my job.
 

You mention that you’re moving on from Ken’s. Can you tell us anything about your next move?
 
I’m honestly not sure where I’m going to end up. I was a bit irresponsible and set an exit date without a real plan afterword.
 
I’m hoping to take some time off to rest and catch up on things around the house, I definitely need some time to sort myself out and feel whole again before I pursue the next opportunity life throws at me.
 
 
For six years, you’ve been at the top of the artisan pizza scene in Portland. For pizza, this is a little like saying you played in the Major League or you were in Paris with the Lost Generation. What’s it like having lived and worked that?
 
It’s come at a price. This job has given me a lot, and led me to make a lot of compromises in my life outside of work as well. Lots of stress on my personal relationships. I’ve given up a lot of hobbies and interests that made me a more interesting and well-rounded person. Lots of missed time with my wife and dogs and my close friends.
 
It was a pretty typical situation where I didn’t allow myself a healthy work/life balance because I wanted so strongly to succeed at what I was doing. I was in over my head and burned myself out.
 
Was it worth it? Probably not. But hey, there’s probably a life lesson in there that someone can take something away from all this.
 
I’ve been built up and broken down so many times in the last few years. I’ve had so much success and so much failure. It’s been good and bad, amazing and at times awful. But looking back at everything that’s happened to me during my time at Ken’s, I feel so fortunate to have experienced it all.

It gave me such a strong sense of purpose that I didn’t know I needed. And I love being able to feel like I’ve helped make a positive contribution to the reputation of my community and my city, and I’m also so thankful for that.
 
 
Anything else at all that you’d like to add?
 
Thanks for taking an interest in a bit of our story, and for giving me a chance to put down some thoughts and reflect on what has happened over my time at Ken’s.
 
I’ve been a bit of a mess lately with the transition, and with just being burnt out and tired. I recently met up with someone I look up to in the pizza scene out here, and it was impossible to hide that I was hurting a bit from it all.

They suggested I write out a lot of what I was feeling to help unpack some of the weight that I’ve been carrying around in my head. And I’ve yet to really take the time to do that. But even typing all this has proven a bit therapeutic for me. Hopefully it makes for an interesting read.

And...

End interview. For what it's worth, I do think it makes for an interesting read. 
 
I also admit to a twinge of regret for how I positioned my original, 2023 comment on Ken's Artisan Pizza. I believed I had thought it through sufficiently. Perhaps I didn't.

Regardless, if I hadn't done it, the opportunity for this conversation would never have materialized.

Pizza is just water, flour, salt, yeast, sauce and cheese. Until it's not. 

Thanks to Chef Vincent Krone for a peek inside the oven of an artisan pizzamaker, as well as for the honesty and the candor.

If you'd like to read the story that started all this, you can find it here. 


On April 15, 2025, Ken’s Artisan Pizza posted this on Facebook along with photos of Chef Vincent:
 
"It’s Chef Vincent Krone’s last week with us at Ken’s Artisan Pizza, and we’re sending him off with a full heart and endless gratitude. His creativity, leadership, and passion for good food have shaped the pizzeria in so many ways. Thank you, Chef. Wishing you all the best on your next adventure!"
 
----
 
A lot of big-time professional artisan pizza makers once made their first pizza in a home oven just like yours. You can do it, too. My weird little award-winning book is one way to make it so. The book is about how to get from zero to pizza using the oven you already have. Besides learning to make great pizza, there’s not much else you can do with it. In fact, you can’t even use it to level a table leg if you buy the Kindle edition (which is less expensive than the print editions and has links to instructional videos and printable kitchen worksheets). To learn more about Free The Pizza: A Simple System For Making Great Pizza Whenever You Want With The Oven You Already Have, click here. ​​