Brandt Bishop’s Stories, Lessons & Insights

We recently had the chance to connect with Brandt Bishop and have shared our conversation below.

Brandt, really appreciate you sharing your stories and insights with us. The world would have so much more understanding and empathy if we all were a bit more open about our stories and how they have helped shaped our journey and worldview. Let’s jump in with a fun one: What do the first 90 minutes of your day look like?
The first 90 minutes of my day are about choosing the pace I want to live by. I’m not rushing or reacting. I’m setting the tone. My work can be physically and mentally demanding, so I’ve learned that those early minutes are where momentum is built, quietly and without force.

I start by hydrating and having something that gives me steady energy. Then I move a little. Light stretching, mobility work, or anything that helps my body loosen up from the day before. I don’t treat this as a workout. It’s maintenance so I can keep doing what I love.

I also spend a few minutes journaling or checking in with myself. Nothing elaborate. Just an honest look at where my head is and what I need. That alone shifts how I show up for the rest of the day. By the end of the 90 minutes, I’ve hydrated, fueled, moved, and grounded myself. That gives me clarity instead of chaos, which makes me more creative in my work and more present at home. I don’t use the first 90 minutes to get ahead. I use them to get aligned. That has made all the difference.

Can you briefly introduce yourself and share what makes you or your brand unique?
My name is Brandt Bishop, and I run Best Slope Pizza, a mobile Neapolitan-style pizza company based in the North Fork Valley of Western Colorado. We’re a small but growing business built around one idea: make world-class pizza in places people don’t expect it. Best Slope is built on four principles: long fermentation, ethical sourcing, warm hospitality, and a full commitment to craft. Our dough ferments for more than 100 hours with natural leavening. We source locally whenever possible, supporting Colorado farms and regenerative flour mills. I even adjust our water to match Naples minerals because the small details show up in the final product.

What sets us apart is the mix of fine-dining technique, mobility, hip-hop influence, and rural community. We work from a trailer equipped with professional ovens and show up in all kinds of settings. Some days we’re on a winery lawn. Other days we’re in a gravel lot or at a mountain wedding. Wherever we are, every pizza is made with attention to detail and intentionality.

Best Slope has grown beyond pop-ups. We host seasonal collaborations with wineries and breweries and offer full-service catering for private events. We recently launched a frozen pizza line so guests can enjoy our work from the comfort of home. We also created a SNAP Pizza Donation Program, which allows customers to purchase pizzas that we donate to local families. Everything we do ties back to the same mission: serve well, raise standards, and build genuine connection through food.

Right now, we’re in an exciting build phase. We’re hand-building our next mobile trailer to support larger events and future growth. I’m also refining a competition-ready dough with plans to enter national pizza events and put Western Colorado on the culinary map. At the core of Best Slope Pizza is a belief I hold closely: you don’t need a big city to do something world-class. With persistence, skill, and heart, you can build something special right where you are.

Appreciate your sharing that. Let’s talk about your life, growing up and some of topics and learnings around that. Who saw you clearly before you could see yourself?
My mentor was Bob Isaacson, who I worked under at Smith Fork Ranch during the summers when I was 18 and 19. He was the first person to treat me like I had real potential in the kitchen. I was young and trying to figure out who I was. He patiently endured my early attempts at adulthood while showing me what real discipline and craft looked like. Bob had a calm intensity. He never needed to raise his voice, but his standards were high. He taught me that attention to detail is a form of respect, and that the way you carry yourself in a kitchen reflects how you live the rest of your life.

He saw something in me before I could see it in myself. That mentorship grew into a lifelong friendship that still means a great deal to me to this day. His early belief and guidance continue to shape how I work and how I move through the world. Best Slope Pizza wouldn’t exist in its current form without those summers and his strong influence.

What fear has held you back the most in your life?
The fear that has held me back the most is the fear of slowing down. For much of my life, I believed that momentum was the only thing keeping me upright. If I kept producing, kept grinding, kept moving from one task to the next without pause, then I felt safe. I tied a lot of my worth to my ability to push through anything and carry more than most people could see.

That fear worked for a while, but it came with a cost. It kept me from resting when I needed it. It kept me from listening to what my body was trying to tell me. It kept me distracted from the moments that actually matter. Even when life no longer required that kind of survival mode, I would slip back into it out of habit.

In the last year or two, especially as I have built my business and committed myself to growing it into something that supports my lifestyle goals, I have learned that slowing down is not losing ground. It is often the thing that brings clarity. The deeper I get into my craft, the more I see that presence creates better work than pace ever could. I am still unlearning the old belief that everything falls apart if I am not constantly pushing. Every time I choose patience, breath, and honest pacing, I prove to myself that nothing collapses when I ease up. In fact, things usually fall into place more naturally. Slowing down has become part of my growth, not a threat to it.

Alright, so if you are open to it, let’s explore some philosophical questions that touch on your values and worldview. What’s a belief or project you’re committed to, no matter how long it takes?
One belief I am committed to, no matter how long it takes, is that craft should be pursued with intention and patience. Whether it is pizza, hospitality, or the way I build my business, I believe that doing something well takes time. I am not interested in shortcuts that compromise integrity. I want to build something that lasts and something that feels aligned with who I am.

This shows up most clearly in my dough development, which has turned into a years-long project. I treat it as something unfinished, always capable of being refined, always ready to teach me something new if I am willing to pay attention. I chase small, steady gains wherever I can find them. My goal is to create food with depth and character, and to run a business that carries those same qualities.

I am also committed to growing Best Slope Pizza into a life I can sustain. Not just a job that pays the bills, but a creative craft that supports my health, my relationships, and the lifestyle I value. That requires long-term thinking, measured growth, and the willingness to keep learning even when progress feels slow. Time has never been the enemy in my craft. Everything that truly matters is built over seasons. Dough, technique, consistency, and flavor all evolve slowly. I trust that process. I believe in refinement that unfolds over years, and I plan to keep working that way for as long as I am cooking.

Thank you so much for all of your openness so far. Maybe we can close with a future oriented question. When do you feel most at peace?
I feel most at peace when I am making and handling dough each week. Something about that routine pulls me into the present moment in a way almost nothing else does. Working with sourdough has become a mutual relationship. I give it time, attention, and patience. It gives me clarity, calm, and a feeling of being anchored in my craft. Dough demands awareness. It asks me to notice temperature, hydration, timing, and texture. It teaches me to listen before I react. When I am handling dough, my mind settles and my nervous system slows. I am not thinking about the future or the past. I am simply responding to what is in front of me. This process brings together my creativity, my discipline, and my need for purpose. It is where I feel aligned and grounded, and it often reminds me why I chose this path in the first place. It is not just a task. It is a practice that supports me as much as I support it.

Contact Info:

• Website: https://Iwantza.com
• Instagram: bestslopepizza
• Facebook: https://bit.ly/bestslopepizzaco

Image Credits
Photos Courtesy of Best Slope Pizza