The real thing. In Rome. It’s all about the CRUST. Not the cheese. Not the sauce. This was very typical: small amount of sauce, sprinkling of cheese, judicious portion of toppings. And let me tell you (I am, aren’t I?!) it was wonderful. Every bite. People often eat an entire pizza for a meal — a 12″ — and it’s just fine. Although *we* usually shared a pizza and a salad. It’s so much less gooey-rich, and so much more satisfying. The crust is light and crunchy-chewy, with lovely charring, and every last bite is good. No one leaves a row of crust uneaten on their plates.
Guess I’m going to have to learn to make the crust at home. I’ve never had anything like it in the US, even at places claiming to have Italian pizza ovens and “Neapolitan” pies.
We must have had pizza ten times. Not enough!