Sunday, November 4, 2012

Pizzeria Pellone

Just as shops and stores were beginning to close up for their riposo (Italian post-lunch siesta), I made it to my last stop for the day, just north of the Napoli Centrale train station: Pizzeria Pellone.

Notice the (albeit cleaned out) street-side display case, just like Di Matteo and Antica. Highly recommended by Scott, I was eager to check a place coming from a trusted source. That being said, after 3 pies in 2 hours, I was starting to feel a bit burned out by Naples and pizza in general (yes, even I have a limit). Without any ado, I asked for a table, and for whatever reason, was lead around the block to the side entrance.

Our waiter brought out some Peronis and menus with a smile- something I honestly hadn't seen since I set foot in Napoli. With no hesitation, I ordered the last Margherita of the day and was happy with the results-

Not too damn shabby! Sure, the basil needed a little redistributing, but after the disappointment at da Michele, I was pleased with my pie.

It really is beautiful, isn't it? The mozzarella was cooked just right; the crust was absolutely gorgeous, perfectly fluffy and chewy.

My one and only complaint, and I know this comes with the territory, but the last time I had a pizza this oily was at the heavy hand of Dom Demarco at Di Fara a few years back. These shots don't quite do it justice, but at times it felt as though this was a miniature wading pool filled with extra virgin olive oil.

That being said, while a little extra EXTRA virgin olive oil tips the balance of a well-composed pie, I have no problem with having copious amounts of the stuff and happily dug right in.

Maybe it was because I was rounding out my day, maybe because I could finally sit and relax and for once didn't feel unwelcome, maybe it was because someone in this damned city finally smiled at me, but this was my favorite pizza in Naples.

Okay, OKAY, I'm done taking pictures of your oven! And with that I happily got the hell out of town and headed to the Amalfi coast for some well-earned limoncello (but not before my pocket was picked at the train station). Che cavolo, Napoli?

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