When I was growing up, there was only one kind of pizza. A round interpretation of pizza Napoletana that was ubiquitous on the east coast. The quality varied but it usually had a generous spread of tomato sauce, melted stringy mozzarella and indifferent sausage dripping with oil. This was the kind of pizza I grew up with – an American interpretation of the real deal from Italy. Something was lost in the translation.
The wood fired Neapolitan wonder that is watched over by the Associazione Verace Pizza napoletana (AVPN) puts a stake in the ground. They’ve defined everything required to make a true pizza napoletana. No detail is too small to codify. Anything different falls short of the AVPN paragon as far as they are concerned.
“With regards to condiments and products used, where possible, they
must be produced and certified from the Campania region of Italy in
order to meet the standards required and maintain the authenticity of
the product.”
There is only one pizza according to them and it comes from Naples. Variations are debasements of the original. In order to preserve the righteous pie that is Neapolitan, the Association goes to great lengths to define the ingredients, equipment and methods that make a real pizza.
The truth is pizza evolves. Local preferences, available ingredients, the season, equipment and people make the difference. Pizza is open to interpretation around the globe. Even on its home turf, Italy’s regions stray from the AVPN’s pure vision. The pizza you’ll find in Milan is nothing like what you’ll eat in Rome or devour in Sicily.
Given the variety of pizza manifestations in Italy, it is no surprise pizza changed when it went global. Pizza’s evolution was prodded by each ecological niche. From Hawaii’s pineapple and ham laden shores to Brazil’s lush tropical condensed milk and coconuts new species of pie branched off pizza’s evolutionary tree.
The pizza that I’ve been obsessed with for years is pizza romana, otherwise known as pizza al taglio (sliced pizza) or pizza ai teglia (pan pizza). This form comes from 1960’s Rome. Sancho’s in Fiumicino is ground zero for this style. For three generations they’ve been making this groundbreaking style of pizza. It’s where Gabriele Bonci ate as a kid. It obviously had an impact.
Pizza al taglio isn’t very common in the United States but it’s catching on. When done right it is crisp, light and delivers creatively orchestrated toppings. Unlike my Neapolitan breathren who must color inside the lines of the AVPN, roman pizzaioli have more freedom to be creative. They can deconstruct an entree and try it as a topping. Season the dough before putting anything on it or just go basic with extra virgin olive oil and sea salt.
The Roman crust is the star of the show. When done well it is a thick rectangle but not bready like some grandma or American Sicilian pies. It has a crunch in the crust that yields to a soft airy crumb. The crust is infused with enough olive oil flavor to compliment the topping of choice. If you live in New York, Philadelphia, Chicago or Sebastapol you’ll be able to find it. It is worth seeking out.
For those that want to learn how to make pizza al taglio, it requires practice, patience and the right equipment. A commercial spiral mixer, fancy deck oven, black steel pans and lots of refrigeration are just the start. The high hydration dough can be sticky and needs at least a 3 day rest in the refrigerator. Your oven should have controls for the heat from the floor and the ceiling to get the baking chamber set up properly. You need more heat from the floor, less from the ceiling but be prepared to tweak your settings according to the demands of your toppings. Do not try this at home.
If you are intent on making Roman pizza at home, pizza tonda is the way to go. It’s round, thin and crispy. It doesn’t have the fat cornicone or flexible bottom of a Neapolitan pie. And it can be baked in a home oven with practice. You can even play with preferments (biga) in your dough to achieve a deeper and more complex flavor.
The evolution of pizza is a good thing. Let’s celebrate innovation, creativity and local ingredients. If life gives you lemons, make a friutta di mare pizza and hold the cheese (there are a few rules). Don’t be bound by conventional thinking, take the less travelled path. With dough as your canvas you can paint your dreams.