​THE MIDWEEK MODERNIST PIZZA REPORT: Traveling the world to eat the best pizza, getting paid for it AND collecting frequent flier miles? How do you get THAT gig? (Part I)

The Ongoing Modernist Pizza Review, Volume 1, Chapter 3, "Pizza Travels" (Part I)  

​Modernist Pizza
Written by Nathan Myhrvold and Francisco Migoya
Published by The Cooking Lab; First edition, October 19, 2021
Hardcover: ‎ 1708 pages, 32.7 pounds, 13.78 x 10.24 x 15.94 inches
​​List Price: $425.00
​Amazon discount price as of 03/08/23: $294.99

In the pantheon of Modernist Cuisine cookbooks, it seems that Modernist Pizza is the first one with a travelogue. And an engaging, tasty, myth-busting travelogue it is.
 
In an effort to find the best pizzas on earth, the Modernistas hit what they refer to as the first-generation pizza cities: New York, New Haven, Naples, Buenos Aires and São Paolo. They also ventured to the style-related cities like Chicago, California and Rome. The visited a lot of pizzerias—yet the journey covered only about one one-thousandth of a percent of the world’s total pizza joints.

And once again, there is the potential for fistfights. But it’s hard to argue with such a team of smart people with mad skills making the trek so we don’t have to. Even though we kinda wish we could.

Did you know that pizza is one of the world’s most widely eaten foods? And most people eating it are getting it from a pizzeria.

Since it’s one of the most widely eaten foods, it stands to reason it’s one of the world’s most widely made foods. And most people who make it are learning by doing. There aren’t a lot of schools teaching pizza. So most people are learning from the people they work with—or they’re figuring it out the same way you do when you read my silly little book.

Research for “Pizza Travels” involved a lot of local guidebooks. They came up with a curated selection of pizza places to visit. And traveling there involved bringing camera gear—and lots of it. One can only imagine getting all those Pelican cases through customs when they’re covered with pizza sauce and stinking of garlic.

Some of the realities of pizza that we’re confronting here run the gamut:

• As discussed previously, Sicilian pizza doesn’t exist in the “real world”;

• A lot of pizzerias are sold less on pizza quality than on their story value;

• “The pathologies of ‘best’ pizza lists” is that most of them are just made up—you can usually tell if there’s no discussion of methodology; the list is merely culled from existing content;

• The problem of unregulated reader poll lists which lead to pizza popularity contests—you have no idea who voted.

One of the ways they vetted pizzerias in Italy was via The Gambero Rossi guide. Seems it’s like the Michelin guide to pizza. It contains reviews of 643 pizzerias, and Cambero Rossi reviewers visited to every single one of them.

When we become pizza fanatics, we learn all about the AVPN and its iron fist for all things Neapolitan pizza. Except that, the reality is that all of the AVPN-certified pizzerias in Naples are deviating from the rules in one way or another.

Unsurprisingly, perhaps, some of the most famous Italian pizzaioli have been making pizza most of their lives. Some of them started when they were kids. One guy started making pizza at 18. Another one has been cooking since age 5. One Neapolitan pizzaiolo is even a professional musician who makes records of Neapolitan music from the 7th to 10th centuries.

There’s a fascinating range of pizzamakers and pizzeria surprises. One pizza guy who sounds like he started making pizza the way I did. He’s not a trained chef or pizzaioli. He just loves food and good quality. But unlike me, he went pro. His joint makes 1,000 pizzas a day.

The famous Naples pizzeria La Masardona has a line forming every morning for breakfast pizza fritta. That’s a pizza folded in half like a calzone and deep fried. (But no, it’s not a calzone. To be a calzone is must be baked.)

Another Naples pizzeria that uses two tons of dough daily. With that kind of volume, you’d think we’re talking about sacrificing quality for quantity. But it produces one of the best pizzas the Modernistas had on their expedition. Yes, quantity AND quality.

Trivia: The only top-ranked female pizzaiola in the Gambero Rosso is from Poland. Some staffers in these ranked pizzerias have training in Michelin star kitchens.

I admit, by the time I was halfway through reading this section, I was convinced I blew my one day in Naples. I have pizzeria remorse.

What’s interesting here is how the Italian pizzaioli who are “experimenting” with “unusual toppings” aren’t doing anything very different than you or I might—at least in theory. Obviously, they’re better at pizza and have a more refined palettes and better skills. But one topping here they’ve defined as “unusual” is shrimp.

I’ve been putting shrimp on pizza for years. People also think I‘m “crazy.” (Wow.) By that measure of unusual, I saw all kinds of “unusual toppings” on seafood pizzas in the south ofr France 30 years ago.

Seriously, think about what a pizza pêcheur or “fisherman’s pizza” is going to look like. Mussels, clams, langouste, squid—it doesn’t seem all that avant garde in a pizzeria that sits a hundred yards from a harbor filled with little, rustic old fisherman’s boats that go out with a couple of gnarly old guys In it every day before sunrise.

As for other so-called “unusual” toppings, I admit that there’s one reason I haven’t put foie gras on a pizza: It’s because I can’t find it here. The Mississippi Gulf Coast isn’t exactly a hotbed of gourmet comestibles. But there is shrimp galore, crab, oyster, crawfish—an “experimental” pizzaiolo would have a field day here. (Do the Italians have field days?)

Meanwhile, back in “Pizza Travels,” the northern Italians are doing some very edgy things. While we’re not talking molecular gastronomy (which is debatably an annoyance), there’s still some elevation going on here that makes you ask, “Is that really pizza?”

For instance, imagine a pizza dough that’s been steamed and is white like a Chinese bao. This pale white thing comes to your table topped sauced with a smoked oyster cream, and topped with beef tartare, bone marrow and caviar. Literally, some of these pizza places are acquiring patents and trademarks for unique things they’re doing. (Can you imagine patent trolling the pizza space? But I digress.)

One of the biggest surprises for Americans who have a hard time understanding favorite foods and greatness beyond their own borders will be Brazil. São Paolo suffers from pizza madness. The city has 6,000 pizzerias in a city of 21 million inhabitants. By contrast, New York City has only 1,600 pizzerias to its 8.5 million people. And a lot of the pizzamakers are actual Italians who are not afraid to deviate from their Italian norms to use local ingredients.

Is that not freaky enough? Get ready for this, oh habitual street pizza slice clutcher: many of São Paolo’s pizzerias are fancy, sit-down joints with high end service. You’re highly likely to eat pizza (dinner only) in a white-linen joint with impeccable table service.

In São Paolo you’ll find pizza is light on the sauce and heavy on the toppings. There are also dessert pizzas. Plus, São Paolo is an arty city, vibrant with explosions of color. This sensibility and flair carries through into their pizza culture.

And, of course, the bone of contention. Paulistanos will tell you that São Paolo is the pizza capital of the world. The Modernistas aren’t sure they agree with that level of ascendancy, but they do identify São Paolo as a high-quality pizza city.

São Paolo also has of share of traditional Neapolitan pizza. If you’re that person, it seems you can find your favored, floppy and wet Neapolitan style pizza there. And really, any kind of pizza. Getting a Chicago deep-dish jones in São Paolo? No problem. They’ve got it.

Here’s a puzzler: “golf sauce.” This is something that Brazilians put on their pizza? What is golf sauce? Hello, mayo and ketchup! The mayo & ketchup mixture is something that in my world as a juvenile was called “Russian dressing.” It appeared on salads on my our dinner table when I was a kid. When I moved to Utah, it became clear that Utahns are mad for “fry sauce,” which is (you guessed it) little more than mayo & ketchup.

SIDEBAR: What is the fixation on saucing pizza? It’s a thing here in the south (usually bottled French or Catalina dressing). It’s a thing in college towns. There’s a national subculture of ranch dressing dippers. Because hey—there’s not enough saturated fat in pizza to begin with. But…WHY? Especially in a white-linen dining culture like Sāo Paolo pizza? [End sidebar.]

Here comes the environmental angle. Ready? There’s a lot of biodiesel fuel in use in Sāo Paolo, yet air quality remains poor. The blame gets thrown at Sāo Paolo’s pizza habit. Those pizzerias  burn a lot of wood.

At this point is where I came to the unsurprising realization that Modernist Pizza pushes you out of your comfort zone. If you’re one of those people who likes to say, “That’s not pizza!”, their taxonomy will disagree. You’ll say, “That’s not a pizza restaurant!” But clearly, it sells something that’s pizza—despite it being a while linen joint with formal service or a fast-food joint selling a high end product.

From pickles on pizza to squid ink crust to Chinese dumpling dough, pizza might be many things you don’t want it to be. Too bad. If you’re that person. If not, if you’re open to pushing the boundaries on your personal definition, buying this book is cheaper than flying around the world to encounter all of these creations—and it is a stunning visual feast.

Here’s another shocker for the American pizza freak: Buenos Aires is mythologized like New York or New Haven. And in contrast to Sāo Paolo, theirs is a slice culture. The pizza joint proprietors are reportedly a lot more like New Yorkers in their demeanor—and even in their suspicion of anyone wanting to do what the Modernist Cuisiners are doing.

And now, in order to not overwhelm you, we’re going to take a breather. Next time, we’ll be back to continue our global pizza jaunt with layovers in Buenos Aires, Tokyo (big surprises there), New York and New Haven (which also brings its surprises, though maybe not the kind you were hoping for). 

In the meantime, if you're looking for a way to make great pizza in your home oven, a great place to start is with the gold-medal winning Free The Pizza, available on Amazon.