I flipped through this month’s GQ because of a cover-listed article on the 25 best pizzas in America. Needless to say, I was surprised to see writer Alan Richman say the following:
(Emphasis mine.)
These, I recognized immediately, were fighting words, the kind that spark heated, passionate debate. To his credit, not one of Richman’s listed pizzas bear much resemblance to the Papa Johns/Little Ceasar’s type pizza sold by the bucketload all across the country. But still, it’s a pretty bold statement to make.
erdosain beat me to it. It’s like saying what British folk call chips are better then what American’s call chips. Certainly some people may prefer one over the other, but they don’t really invite a direct comparison since they’re only vaguely similar foods.
Pizza is an expression. Sometimes it’s a quiche with a firm crust and other times it’s a gourmet version of the lunchroom za.
I think what happens to people like the GQ author is the juice runs between their lips, drips down their chins or into their cuffs so they get bitter. If you don’t like flow and textures, you won’t like a complicated pizza. (You wouldn’t throw back a piping hot shot glass of delicious bisque, so why would you eat a fork pizza with your hands?)
This makes about as much sense as saying that American biscuits are better than British biscuits, or that Cincinnati chili is better than Texas chili. They’re completely different foods that just happen to share the same name.
Well, the interesting thing is that most of the pizzas mentioned in the article are definitely more of the Neapolitan vein than what one thinks of as typical American style. So it seems to me that the writer is somewhat trying to compare apples to apples.
High-heat, quick cooking times (we’re looking at under 2 minute pies here, closer to 60 seconds), relatively sparse toppings, utmost importance to a flavorful (not necessariliy cracker-crispy) crust (usually leavened with a “poolish” – a sourdough starter). He likes his coal-fired pizzas (Neapolitan is generally wood-fired, but the result is similar in getting a very high heat in the oven). I would almost discount his opinions, but reading through his article, he knows what he’s talking about and makes a decent case for American versions of Neapolitan or Neapolitan-influenced styles of pizza.
What pisses me off a bout pizza is the insistence on a plethora of toppings. After a certain number (about 3), the pizza isn’t about the cheese/sauce/crust/toppings interplay, it’s all about the topping. The pizza becomes a vehicle for the toppings. You’d be just as happy with a bowl of melted cheese and the toppings in there.
Well, since tomatoes are a new world crop, and “white” or oil/cream-based pizzas are different enough to be fairly called something else entirely, it’s not like they had a head start on us.
Who is it insisting on this excess of toppings? If it’s the pizza consumer, why not let people eat what the heck they want and mind your own business? If its the pizza vendor, don’t order that pizza! Problem solved.
The writer of the article ate 300+ American pizzas for his research. I’m sure if he ate another 300 Italian pizzas, he would find something a little better than the tourist crap he describes.
It’s not apples and oranges, it’s 300 green apples vs 1 or 2 red ones.
I admit that I didn’t read the article, only the quotation in the OP. But…if the author is only choosing Neapolitan-style pizzas in the US, which aren’t all that popular here, how can America possibly care more about it than Italy, where these style of pizzas are ubiquitous?
Americans care passionately about their Chicago-styles, their New York-styles, their deep-dish, Pizza Hut, Dominos, even (God knows why) their Papa Johns. Real Italian-style pizza is too hard to find to have a large following. They’re out there (I went to a pizzeria in Forest Hills, Queens, that would have been indistiguishable from an Italian pizzeria), but I don’t think America cares more than Italy about them.
I find Pizza as it is made and eaten in Italy to be lighter, more delicate, and much more flavourful than the American variety, because the crust is much thinner and it allows the taste of the toppings to really come through. It’s healthier too.
Not sure what the liquid rant is about. It’s normal for *a little * oil and moisture to leak from some Italian pizzas when they are eaten - but hardly on the order of the grease-dripping nightmare described!
Italians don’t want their pizzas sitting atop a bread pie, Americans do. As mentioned they are literally two different dishes.
