The Sydney Morning Herald logo
Advertisement

Super supremo

No longer content with the takeaway staple, diners are gaining a taste for serious slices.

Larissa Dubecki
Larissa Dubecki

Johnny Di Francesco at 400 Gradi.
Johnny Di Francesco at 400 Gradi.Angela Wylie

So you want to pinpoint the moment ''real'' pizza went mainstream? Easy. It's when pizza makers became pizzaioli. Like the coffee makers-turned-baristas before them, awareness of the vernacular marked the tipping point for a common foodstuff-turned-group obsession.

Pizza was once an easy subject. Flour, water and yeast, a bit of topping, heat in an oven, steam in a cardboard box on the back of a motorbike for 20 minutes, eat.

How naive we were with our Hawaiian and family-size super supreme.

Advertisement

The Italians, on the other hand, have always taken their pizza rather seriously. Their government in 2002 floated a licensing scheme for any restaurant selling ''pizza'' anywhere in the world - an endearingly daft idea, you might argue, until you consider that Naples' Associazione Verace Pizza Napoletana (AVPN) has achieved almost the same result by stealth.

The quest for the perfect pizza begins with the non-profit organisation's accreditation scheme, so rigorous only two Melbourne pizzerias (Brunswick's 400 Gradi and Ascot Vale's Scoozi) have thus far won its favour. For the Platonic ideal of the Neapolitan pizza, the AVPN decrees a wood-fired oven capable of reaching 400 degrees, hand-blended sugo made only from San Marzano tomatoes and salt, ''00'' flour, minimal yeast and a fermentation process to the order of 24 to 36 hours, and a cooking time of 60 to 90 seconds. That's just the basic outline; there are plenty more stipulations contained in the disturbingly long 90-page manual. But broadly speaking, the aim is for a base that's lightly crisp, yet soft and pliable - you should be able to fold it, 400 Gradi's Johnny Di Francesco says, ''like a wallet, without any cracks appearing in the base''.

Naples has become the byword in ''real'' pizza, mostly because it takes it so darn seriously (and on that note, the simple margherita, using DOP-designated buffalo mozzarella, is considered the highest form of its expression), but Di Francesco says 90 per cent of Melbourne pizzerias actually make a Roman-style product. To the layman there's probably not a lot between them, but try folding the Roman pizza (differences in preparation include an electric oven, oil in the base and a longer cooking time) and it will crack. Di Francesco takes a diplomatic line on his favourite foodstuff, declaring no one pizza ''the best'', but he can't resist a slight dig at the competition: ''The Naples pizza isn't a Salada biscuit.''

It's not quite like it is in Italy ... but we're getting close.

Last week, Di Francesco spent 36 hours dismantling his old pizza oven - brick by brick, until 5.30am - replacing it with an imported oven from Naples (right), built by ''one of the oldest artisan-style pizza-oven makers. All of the stones are sourced from Napoli, and it's built specifically to cook the AVPN pizza, and it's one of the ovens that's accredited by the association,'' he says.

Advertisement

Roman or Neapolitan, they're a world away from the fat, doughy bases finished with a mountain of shredded ham, plastic mozzarella and rubbery olives that dominated the domestic market pre-pizza revolution. You can still find those, if that's your bent, but Australians have gained an appreciation of good versus bad.

''Now people are a lot more familiar with what makes a quality ingredient. Over the past 10 years there's been more of a move to better hams and cheeses and there's now a lot more available to us,'' Firechief's head pizzaiolo, Daniel Barrese, says. ''It's not quite like it is in Italy - there everything is made fresh on the day - but we're getting pretty close.''

It's all in the dough.
It's all in the dough.Eddie Jim

With three different pizza ovens, including the obligatory wood-fired number geared towards the pursuit of AVPN accreditation, Hawthorn's Firechief is Melbourne's go-to pizza joint when comparisons are in order. The Moretti twin-deck electric oven makes more of a Roman-style product; the conveyer oven is touted as the home of the Australian family-style pizza, with a thicker base and blast-from-the-past topping combos. Chicken and bacon, Aussie or Hawaiian, anyone?

Barrese kindly points out that while Australia is going back to the basics with its pizza, the Italians are just as much creatures of fashion.

Advertisement

''In Naples I actually saw AVPN-accredited pizzerias put french fries and mini hot dogs on top,'' he says. ''They're really popular. It's amazing.'' His observation also offers a valuable perspective on the hoary argument about putting pineapple on a pizza. On that note, Barrese is a live-and-let-live kind of pizza chef: ''I don't think you should put pineapple on a pizza with buffalo mozzarella and anchovies. It defeats the purpose of beautiful ingredients. But I think that sometimes a good old ham-and-pineapple is OK.''

Finally, a note on the eating. As Italian-British chef Giorgio Locatelli says in his book Made in Italy: Food and Stories, ''You have to eat it within five to six minutes of it coming out of the oven, or it will be soggy and spoilt … In Italy, we don't think of pizza as something that can be packed in boxes and driven around town. Not even if they threatened you with six years in prison, would you eat a takeaway pizza delivered on a motorbike.''

Restaurant reviews, news and the hottest openings served to your inbox.

Sign up
Larissa DubeckiLarissa Dubecki is a writer and reviewer.

From our partners

Advertisement
Advertisement