After wolfing a pie at Di Matteo, I lurked out the door and continued shuffling my way down Naples' famous Via Tribunali, a chaotic pandemonium of cars, trash, pedestrians, and high-speed scooters.
Eventually Via Tribunali turns into an even narrower alleyway known as Port'Alba, a familiar name to any pizza lover worth their dough. What lies beyond the gateway onto this street is a small, unassuming pizzeria- Antica Pizzeria Port'Alba, beholden as the oldest pizzeria in the world.
First popping up as a sort of designated food cart hang out in the earlier half of the 18th century, Antica became a brick-and-mortar pizzeria and were slingin' pies by 1830.
Wow, that's older than my country. Unfortunately they weren't firing up full-on Margheritas while I was there, but they (along with most other pizzerias in Naples) had their 'to-go' cart out front serving up smaller room temp pies, which I promptly bought and ate the hell out of.
This is a poor photo, but the foodstuff is meant to be folded into quarters, wrapped in paper, and eaten on the go. It's basically a 10" pre-made pizza with sparing amounts of cheese. Di Matteo had one left as a ran out the door, here's an idea of what's at hand-
I guess this is the Neapolitan equivalent to a slice on the go, eh? Despite not being formally open for business, I was able to weasel my way into the building to get a quick look around. I was shown the kitchen, and ultimately their big-ass brick oven.
Again, I started to feel my presence wasn't wanted by the staff, so I started making tracks towards my next pizzeria destination, but not before stumbling across a blood-soaked rag and a puddle of blood outside of a church!
I'm still unsure which place is more welcoming: Naples, or hell itself.