Napoli: Antica Pizzeria da Michele

Napoli: Antica Pizzeria da Michele

Few weeks ago, The Wife and I visited Naples for the express purpose of sampling some legendary pizza pie.

Getting off the train, I started walking in what I believed to be the direction of Michael’s “old style” pizzeria, but what with my generally dazed tourist semi-consciousness, the constantly changing street names, and overall Neapolitan hub-bub, we quickly got lost, so I asked a security guard for directions. I simply asked for the street name; he gave me directions and, smiling, said “Pizzeria da Michele?” Guess he gets my question a lot.



On the back wall of Michael’s is a large wood-burning oven, presided over by an unrecognizable saint-under-glass, made of the same brass as the pots and pans also hanging on the wall. Underneath stood an elderly man in a white lab coat, florid with white hair, wearing a neatly pressed shirt and trim tie, pulling out pizza dough and dressing it, while a younger man collected the dough disks and shoveled them in and out of the oven. My overwhelming regard for this older gentleman’s sober mien and gravitas restrained me from shooting his pic: a pizza maker in Naples, and a pro, don’t mess with him.

We went with the smallest possible pizzas, which were 4.5 euro (about $5.5). We got two, and though this seemed more than we could eat, it wasn’t.

We got a marinara, just tomato sauce, oregano and garlic.



And we got a Margherita, which had the same sauce, mozzarella and some basil.



Both pizzas harbored rich pools of olive oil, the kind of inexpensive though flavorful stuff my granny used to keep in her pantry.

What was most surprising was that the crust, though fully cooked, was extraordinarily soft, not at all crisp (except in some places), rather luscious, moist with oil. These, as you can see, are not fancy pizza: the ingredients are about as simple as you can get; one could hardly imagine a more elemental conjunction of ingredients.

My only regret was that the beverages available were limited to coke, water and beer – so we had all three, though I’d have preferred a carafe of cheap house wine (an eminently preferable drink than beer, at least when having ‘za).

Later that day, I couldn’t help but imagine that similar lunches might have been cooked up at one of Pompeii’s numerous fast food joints.



Antica Pizzeria da Michele
Via Pietro Colletta, 42

David Hammond wrote: Underneath stood an elderly man in a white lab coat, florid with white hair, wearing a neatly pressed shirt and trim tie, pulling out pizza dough and dressing it, while a younger man collected the dough disks and shoveled them in and out of the oven. My overwhelming regard for this older gentleman’s sober mien and gravitas restrained me from shooting his pic: a pizza maker in Naples, and a pro, don’t mess with him...

What was most surprising was that the crust, though fully cooked, was extraordinarily soft, not at all crisp (except in some places), rather luscious, moist with oil. These, as you can see, are not fancy pizza: the ingredients are about as simple as you can get; one could hardly imagine a more elemental conjunction of ingredients.

David,

Thank you for the most enjoyable post. It's been a while since we last were in Naples and you make me want to get back straight away. We're vaguely planning a trip back in the early winter but that seems like a long wait now.

Your comments about the crust are what stand out to me in the context of discussions around here in recent times. It is also true, as you say, that such pizzas are very simple, 'elemental' even, but the making of such a crust as is produced in Naples is not easy, certainly not the product of the sort of transient and semi- or non-skilled labour that comprises the work force of most pizzerias in this country. If folks want to reject my opinion as being just an expression of a pro-European or pro-East Coast hooey, fine, but from practical experience of trying to reproduce such things, I know it is difficult and requires real skill. I think Bill of Santa Fe can attest to this too. And the image of the old pizzaiolo is one worth remembering when next one sees someone who has never in his life tasted fresh mozzarella or even excellent quality bread pressing industrial strength pastry dough and loaf cheese into a pan.

There is pizza that is 'fast food' and the very best examples of that can be quite tasty, without any doubt. And that kind of pizza has its rightful place in the world. But then there is pizza that is the product of tradition, of long experience, of passion. It is simple food in a way but it is food that is made as it should be made, with no short-cuts that maximise profitability. It is food that only someone who really cares to get it right can get right, but then only after he's worked at it for quite some time.

It's real cooking, not assembly line work.

Antonius

For pictures of the old guy (and other pictures and info), check out this thread at pizzamaking.com.

According to Marco, who used to work at Da Michele:

The Old Pizzamaker is Don Luigi Condurro, the oldest pizzamaker alive, brother of the owner of da Michele and he has been working in that pizzeria since he was a child. He is officially retired but still comes to the pizzeria everyday to oversee the works and also make the first few pizza early in the morning while the other pizzamakers are busy with some prep work.

Antonius couldn't have said it better about the skill and difficulty in creating these kind of pies. Even the experts at Da Michele can struggle to make every pie up to their high standards.

Bill/SFNM

Bill/SFNM wrote:For pictures of the old guy (and other pictures and info), check out this thread at pizzamaking.com.

Bill,

Thanks for the link (I'm now a member of Pizza Making Forum): that thread on Da Michele was a good read, and I'm glad somebody had the stugots to snap The Man.

This was, as several people noted on PMForum, a pizza you would not be able to cut and fold as neatly as a stateside thin crust pie. I ate mine with a knife and folk, and I feel sure it's the way most people eat it.

I am not sure about the identity of the saint hanging above the ovens (and I haven't found a picture yet on PMForum), but it could have been Peter, who was one of several patron saints of baking.

Hammond

curious if anyone has been since 2006 when this was posted?

Some other notables from my reading various blogs/e-articles:

Di Matteo

Brandi

Sorbillo

Trianon da Ciro

Il Pizzaiolo del Presidente (Where Pres Clinton ate pizza)

We'll be in Naples this November and of course will want to try pizza !

Willie,

If you can get your hands on the May 2013 issue of Saveur, there was quite an extensive pictorial/roundup of some of the notable Pizzarias of Naples.

stevez wrote:Willie,

If you can get your hands on the May 2013 issue of Saveur, there was quite an extensive pictorial/roundup of some of the notable Pizzarias of Naples.

I did some searching of the Saveur website and did come up with the article & another that may be of interest:
http://www.saveur.com/article/Travels/T ... ples-Italy

http://www.saveur.com/article/Travels/W ... a-Was-Born

Thanks Steve, I'm sure I have that issue, now just to find it as I find it very satisfying to have print material when traveling (everything except my e-ticket/boarding pass).

Unless things have changed radically in the last few years--or you're interested primarily in a historical rather than a gastronomical experience--I'd take Brandi off the list, since I found it to be primarily for tourists (with pedestrian pizzas to match).

I'd also consider adding Lombardi a Santa Chiara. A restaurant as well as a pizzeria (altho a mighty fine pizza at that), it is (hopefully not was; I'm speaking from a few years back) one of the few that's open on Sundays.

Sweet Willie wrote:curious if anyone has been since 2006 when this was posted?

If you're wondering if it's still worth going there, it absolutely is.

I don't even remember if we ended up waiting for 30 minutes or 90. It was quite the experience sitting on a sidewalk while enjoying cheap wine from a jug, eagerly waiting for our name to get called out. I almost didn't mind that a picture of Julia Roberts was prominently displayed inside when we finally got in.

With the amount of char on the top and bottom of the pizza, it was surprising how elastic and chewy it was. There was barely any crispness and the whole thing could've been tightly rolled into a cigar without cracking. This was the most flavorful dough of any type of bread I've sampled anywhere, the type of flavor that can only come from slow fermentation and an intense flash of heat.

Our tablemates were regulars, proclaiming it the best pizza in all of Italy, and very chatty, telling us about places to get sfogliatelle and all other sorts of neapolitan specialties. All 4 of them ate with a knife and a fork, and ordered the margherita with double cheese, fwiw.

kanin wrote:There was barely any crispness and the whole thing could've been tightly rolled into a cigar without cracking. This was the most flavorful dough of any type of bread I've sampled anywhere, the type of flavor that can only come from slow fermentation and an intense flash of heat.

That lack of crispness is what turns off some of us who love only cracker crust (which I also like, but not exclusively). I think, in a way, that the focus on crust crispiness may distract from the flavor; it's, literally and figuratively, noise.

I was there last May and it's still really good, but there's a surfeit of great pizza in the centro of Napoli that often doesn't require a wait. So, I hit my "B List" pretty heavily this trip. For example, when Sorbillo (which had just reopened after a fire that closed it for a week) and Pizzeria di Matteo were both slammed one evening, I stopped in Antica Pizza I Decumani and was completely satisfied with the pizza. And that's after having visited Franco Pepe in Caiazzo a few days earlier for possibly the best pizza of my life (and he's the runner up to Sorbillo in the Campionato Italiano della Pizza, according to these tifosi). And if you OD on pizza after Sorbillo and Matteo and just want some terrific neapolitan food, Trattoria da Carmine is across via dei Tribunali from Decumani and they will make you happy.