Actually, all pizza is Latina, if by that one means from the folk who originally spoke Latin, the Italians -- actually, the Romans, but let's give it to the entire peninsula plus its islands. But besides the Cuban pizza I wrote about in the paper earlier, there are plenty of Argentine pizzas. I will have more to say on Argentine-Italian food in the paper later, but for the time being I'm intrigued by pizza.
Che Soprano's, reviewed this Thursday in the Food section of The Miami Herald -- en ingles, as I have to always say south of Broward and west of U.S. 1 -- serves terrific pizza, which I assume is as Italian as the rest of the restaurant(s). I'm particularly fond of pizza bianca, perhaps from a lifetime of overdosing on the tomato-sauce kind, and Che Soprano's is particularly good: a thin crunchy crust and a luscious topping of cheeses.
What is your favorite Latina pizza? For that matter, what is your favorite pizza. I'd be glad to report my findings, but given the number of pizzerias out there, that might take years. If anyone wants to check in with a particularly good pizza, I promise to check it out if I haven't already.
My own pizza history begins in Havana in the late '50s, when pizza arrived as a sexy and trendy Italian import. Later, in Tampa, the Sicilian bakeries made what they called pizza: big pans of thick dough barely brushed with tomato (paste?) and, I think, a slight sprinkling of oregano. A hungry teen, I devoured them, though their taste was less than subtle or intriguing. Real pizzerias were opening up and my family went to them, moved by the impulse of our Havana life.
Some years later I'd be in school in Indiana, where pizza was the students' mainstay. South of Chicago, Indiana was influenced by that city's notions of pizza and what I found was better than anything I'd tasted in Florida or Cuba. Or so I thought. One must factor in inexperience and the insatiable hunger of a young man barely out of adolescence. And the beer.
I spent a few years in a small Connecticut city where two entire towns had moved to, lock, stock and barrel, from Sicily. But the pizza was nowhere. That is, there was pizza, but less than savory.
A bit later, in Pennsylvania, things got more interesting. But pizza was not the dominant note. Philadelphia style cheese steak sandwiches were -- a judge deciding a case of a crime of passion was quoted in the newspaper describing the sleaziness of a relationship that began "in a greasy cheese steak joint.'' I was very far from trendy Havana pizzerias. But cheese steaks and pizzas were more or less the same thing: spiced meat and Italian veggies on a bready bed.
New York introduced me to two conflicting phenomena. One was the existence of a pizza joint in every block, and not bad pizza either. The other was New Yorkers' abominable habit of rolling up a pizza so they could eat it on the run. If they want to roll up their food, why don't they eat tacos, like they do on the West Coast? The pizza-as-taco entering the mouth of a rushed New Yorker is not a pretty sight.
Still, New York had good pizza everywhere, great pizza in some places and extraordinary pizza in one or two spots. Whenever I got the pizza jones, all I had to do was take a short walk.
Miami brought me to pizza cubana and pizza argentina. The latter, given the country's Argentine heritage, I expected to be good and was not disappointed. The former can be anywhere from interesting to weird. And I'm sure there's pizza from Colombia, Venezuela, Brazil, out there in our multiculti zone. If you know where and it's good, let me know.
Given the life I've led, it's plausible my last words will be: a large pie, half pepperoni, half sausage, extra cheese all over.
Oh yeah, I don't mind anchovies. But that's for another post.
Well, I've never tasted Argentine pizza, but I was once told by an Italian that the best pizza he ever had was in Sao Paulo, Brazil!
Cuban Pizza, specifically the chorizo pizza from Rey's Pizza on Bird Road is a little greasy but good, kinda weird though. A little goes a long way.
Now, for something magically delicious, try a Tomato Pie. My favorite is from a place called Frank's Pizza in Warminster, PA (a suburb of Philadelphia). Their tomato pie is a pizza crust with tomato sauce and spices sprinkled over it - that's it, no cheese, no toppings. When you get it home drizzle good olive oil over it - OHDEARLORD! They cut it in squares, so when you get the "center squares" there's no crust edge, it's just tomato pie goodness.
I haven't found a good tomato pie in Miami, although I will give credit to several non-chain pizzerias who have tried to accommodate my (to them) bizarre request of pizza with no cheese.
Posted by: Hilda | February 12, 2008 at 07:41 PM
Yes I also have had the Tomato Pie from Franks Pizza in Warminster - THE BEST!!! I agree 100% - little fact... that Pizzeria was rated #1 in Warminster from the Warminster Day Pizza challenge and I can see why!!!
Posted by: margie c | May 16, 2009 at 08:57 PM
You may want to try Pizza d'Carlo Italian-Ecuadorian Pizza. I love their Pies visit them at www.pizzadcarlo.com 813-879-1200
Posted by: dawn morris | April 02, 2010 at 01:52 PM