THE Best Pizza in the World

There's a reason why so many people are under this canopy...

Naples is gritty. New Orleans gritty. On this average Tuesday a steady rain has developed while our train limps into the station, the afternoon grey matching the sea of white taxicabs and old buildings. The faint smell of sidewalk eateries, diesel engines, and overflowing dumpsters (thanks to a now infamous 3-month landfill crisis) hangs in the air. In fact, if Naples has a sister city I’m sure it would be The Big Easy. Street vendors line the crowded sidewalks, hawking their (questionably legitimate) goods. More established stores still have that “Nordstrom’s Rack” feel as they offer everything from Silver Nike’s to Purple Scarves.

Weaving through this madness in the pouring rain, dragging our beat-up luggage over cobblestone streets and murky puddles, we duck into a doorway. Safe from the rain for a few minutes, I consult the map I’ve stored on my MacBook. “Just a few more blocks,” I reassure my wife, who by her still-smiling attitude is quickly earning her badge for Adventurous Wife of the Year. We’re back out in the rain, and after a hard right down a nondescript side street, we’ve arrived at our destination: The Birthplace of Pizza.

Finding this place was like stumbling upon a Jedi master Yoda in the Degobah System.

Many of you have read Eat, Pray, Love – the #1 New York Times Bestseller that chronicles a woman’s year long journey around the world and most notably her 4 months in Italy. And anyone who has read this book probably has a favorite passage, and of those people, probably 99% would agree it is the chapter on L’antiqua Pizzeria “da Michele,” in which the author describes her nearly orgasmic experience with an over-the-top blend of tomato sauce and melted mozzarella at the famed pizzeria in Naples.

Following author Elizabeth Gilbert’s logic, Italy has the best pizza in the world, and the best pizza in Italy is found in Naples. Now if Pizzeria Da Michele, as it is reputed, has the best pizza in Naples, could it possibly be… The Best Pizza in the World? We had to find out for ourselves.

Arriving at the door, we join a crowd of about 20 mouthwatering customers crammed under a faded canopy, shielded from the cold rain. At Pizzeria Da Michele, tables are so hard to come-by that you must take a number, and ours was 98 (at 2:30 in the afternoon, surely the 3rd or 4th time they’ve gone through the cycle.) The interior has stark white walls with a few green tiles lit by a bank of florescent light bulbs, and no tablecloths. It’s not about decoration – it’s about the pizza.

Before long we were ushered to a table near the back of the restaurant, and nearly 11 seconds later a waiter is hovering over us, demanding our order. “Due (2) Margherita Pizza’s with Extra Mozzarella y Due Coca-Colas,” I blurt out in my best Italian, afraid that like Seinfeld’s Soup Nazi any hesitation would result in our quick expulsion. The waiter smiles back and nods, appreciating my quick response – as there are no menus here at Da Michele – just a small paper sign on the wall outlining your options: Margherita Pizza (with normal, medium, or double cheese) or Marinara Pizza. That’s it. No toppings, no special orders. Just plain or cheese… and to drink – Coke, Fanta, Water, or Local Beer. I love this place already… it’s the In ‘n Out of Pizza.

The reason this place now has a 20-minute wait around the clock is because it literally was the birthplace of pizza, way back in 1870. I don’t know the back-story or circumstances behind it, but it does make me want to find the nearest internet café to do some research. Our pizzas arrive 10 minutes later, and all I know is that the first bite of “tender grain flour, Saint Marzano tomato peels, cheese from Agerola, sunflower oil, Naples water, sea salt, basil, oregano, and garlic” (Official Ingredients) might be one of the best Damn Things I have ever tasted. “Oh my God,” Christie mutters, equally impressed and washing it down with ice-cold Coke – from a glass bottle no less.

Christie Double-Fisting it... Da Michele Style.

I know realize what all the fuss is about: This place is so good that Oprah devoted two full segments to it.

We were all smiles when our pizza arrived...

The crust was so thin... yet so crisp... you almost had to fold it in two.

The bliss.

We eat in silence – mesmerized by something so simple yet so profound. The crust is less than 2 mm thick, and a knife slices through it like it is dough. The base layer of red sauce is sweet, yet not too sweet. The mozzarella is light and literally melts in your mouth. The olive oil drizzled on top keeps the pizza moist – yet the crust never gets greasy. The edges of the pizza fall over the edges of the plate, and I sit in amazement how our two pizzas will only cost us a combined 9 Euro.

A local man, eating by himself, is seated next to us, and through a brief conversation in broken English we solicit that the locals believe what all the tourists already know: This Really is the Best Pizza in Naples (and thus, the world!)

The pizza artists hard at work...

... and the wood burning oven that makes it all possible.

We finish our pizzas and sit for a few minutes, just soaking it all in. The waiter – wearing a shirt that reads “Il Tempio Della Pizza” (The Temple of Pizza) clears our 2 plates and 3 Cokes from the table, flashing a gritty Naples smile at another satisfied customer. Perhaps I’ve gone a little too far in describing this experience, but I still don’t think I’ve done it justice. Just promise me one thing: on your Bucket List, add L’Antiqua Pizzeria da Michele in Naples, the birthplace of pizza, to your list.

~ J. Twice