Benefiting from a window seat on the starboard side of an Airbus, I had a perfect view of Vesuvius, Capri and the city right below me and I immediately understood why Goethe had recited the famous quote: “See Naples and die….”
A perfect composition of a colourful and vibrant Mediterranean seaside location, next to a capricious, but presently sedate volcano and some islands, out at sea, shrouded in a gentle mist, doused in a warm red light by the setting sun, was overpowering the frontal cortex.
And yet, my reason for being here wasn’t the scenery or any veterinary business, but a very humble dish – the Neapolitan pizza!
And to be more precise – the ultimate Neapolitan pizza!
Having witnessed and at times endured the obsession my Croatian friend Denis Novak had shown for this creation made of warm dough, tomatoes and mozzarella cheese, I had finally succeeded to employ him as my personal guide to visit the most famous outlets the city had to offer, for this globally recognised and celebrated kind of food. Joining us, while on a visit to Europe anyway, was Paulo Steagall, one of the overlords of veterinary anaesthesiology, who despite being a native of Sao Paulo, for the last few years resided in Hongkong.
When I entered our hotel at the spectacular Galleria Umberto, right in the centre of Naples, Denis was already waiting impatiently and I only had time to drop off my luggage, before we were heading off to our first stop.
Starting at the high end, we made straight for “Brandi”, officially the birthplace of the Margherita, the most basic version of a pizza. At “Brandi” only freshly produced Fior di Latte d’Agerola was allowed to melt on the hot dough and a few basil leaves where added, less to enhance the taste, but more to reflect the colours of the Italian flag.
The beating heart of the place were two large, obligatory wood fired pizza ovens, indicating that not a lot of other culinary delights, other than the famous fare of the house were ordered here.
Sadly, I stumbled right at the first hurdle of our task, by ordering a “Quattro Stagioni”, which – while being extremely delicious – would make it very difficult to compare the dish with the versions we were hoping to enjoy at other restaurants.
From this point onwards, I refrained from committing this mistake again, but partially also to limit the calorific impact on my body, caused by the intake of two or even three pizzas within a 24 hour period…..
The next day, following a brief run along the seafront to burn off just a few calories, we started with the first pizza of the day at the very stylish and multi award winning pizzeria of Diego Vitagliano, where next to a wall of certificates and under the watchful eyes of an in Naples omnipresent Diego Maradona,
another three perfect examples of a Margherita where placed in front of us. With the tomatoes possibly a bit more intense in taste than last night, this was a real contender.
Following a long, digestive interlude in Naples’ Spanish quarter, where the city’s most famous adoptive son will surely be idealised for eternity,
our quest continued with a visit to L’antica Pizzeria Da Michele, where in green and white tiled, far more functional premises, pizzas have been served since 1870.
Only four varieties of pizzas, a small selection of soft drinks and bottled Peroni featured on their menu.
While not lacking in taste or the right ingredients, I had by now developed the necessary fussiness to notice, that the center of the pizza was slightly undercooked and that the grated cheese had not melted entirely.
Was I already developing into a pizza snob?……
Well, Julia Roberts seemingly had enjoyed her Margherita here in “Eat,Pray,Love”, and we considered ourselves lucky, for having been offered a table without the customary two-hour waiting time.
That night, despite resting in an extremely comfortable bed, I struggled to find much sleep and I realised that the consumption of larger quantities of pizza, had a similar effect as a wine tasting that had ended in the destruction of whole bottles.
At lunch time the next day, we sensibly decided to walk a few kilometers to the West of the city, where “50 Kalo”, endorsed by my taxi driver (who had naturally charged me double the standard fare from the airport, despite me sharing the ride with another traveller…), was supposed to produce the city’s finest pizza.
The modern interior and the friendly waiters here were not necessary, to make us aware that this again were fine examples of exceptional pizzas, and the proudly presented Michelin Guide plaque at the entrance, stood in stark contrast to the extremely moderate 7 Euros that “50 Kalo” was expecting us to pay for their signature dish. A price that was much in line with all the famous pizzerias in Naples, something that kept a visit to these famous addresses affordable to both visitors and to the local residents.
Squeezing ourselves, a few hours later, around a small table, right next to the pizza oven at “Mattozzi” , we were presented with another excellent serving of this simple and yet so succulent dish, this time seasoned with the live coverage of the final world cup qualifier of the Italian football team against that of Bosnia-Herzegovina.
Was it due to a few rounds of Amaro Montenegro or to the disappointing performance of their National team, that in contrast to the pizza, at a price of 6 Euros each, a basic bottle of wine, that had been advertised with 30 Euros, was later charged with 80 Euros?….
Well, after a few heated words in Italian,English and Portuguese, the price was dropped to 50 Euros and our last night in Naples came after all to a peaceful end.
The next morning, now without my companions, I went on a final excursion….
Just ten minutes walk away from the hotel, right on the corner of Centro Storico, the old town centre, surrounded by numerous small book shops and working out of very confined premises right next to an old town gate, I found the grandmother of them all – the oldest pizzeria in the world.
The first pizza was served here in 1738 and now, as probably then, hungry customers were queuing in front of the door, waiting their turn.
At Pizzeria Port Alba, pizzas were served both inside its always crowded restaurant as well as outside, where they were swiftly wrapped in plain paper by a street vendor.
This was very much in the tradition of this simple meal, which was initially served right on the street to the Lazzaroni, the impoverished workers, who were passing through the gate.
And even today, the arguably finest of Naples’ pizzas was still served here, obtainable by everyone for just a couple of Euros…..
The Blue Vet Diary 