Well well well… who knew Da Michele had an outlet in London? Most of London I suppose. Once I caught wind that there was a place in London, Baker Street no less, where I could sample genuine Neapolitan pizza, I could not but make the long and arduous journey to London. I had to sample Da Michele, I had to know how accurate their pizza was. Let me tell you, dear readers, I was not disappointed.
Poetry could and ostensibly has, been written about Neapolitan pizza. This one was a fine example. Observe the freshly made dough, genuine tomato sauce, healthy helping of fior di latte mozzarella and enormous basil leaves. The combination makes for something really genuine and hopelessly divine.
Above is the half and half. If you look closely at this photograph, you should be able to see individual tomato seeds. This is impressive. Often, less astute pizzaiolos will use some rubbish low quality sauce for the base. To me, this should be made a criminal offence. Da Michele have succeeded in making a genuine Neapolitan dough and excel in each ingredient used for the topping. Everything here is at the height of quality and exceedingly tasteful, as well as tasty.
St Nick, in his astral wisdom (pun intended), went for the Neapolitana. This included capers and, it pains me to say, anchovies. It stands to reason that this slimy salt sliver should be on pizza. Pizza was originally made for sailors in Naples using gone off bread and whatever toppings they had around. Originating in the port of Naples, it should make sense that they put anchovies on this marvellous dish.
Overall, I was most impressed by Da Michele. Sitting back having finished my pizza, I took my napkin from under my chin, wiped my mouth and sighed a sigh of pure joy. This is what it is like to feel Italian. I was thrown back to my time in Rome where this sigh would be a daily experience. They do things better on the continent I think. Here in England, we specialise in hullabaloo. Huxley writes that people waste a lot of time despite knowing better, this is not the case at table in Naples. Every bite is designed especially for the consumer and brings to him a burst of joy incomparable to standard or even extraordinary English pizza. Da Michele is one of two establishments in this country where I have been genuinely satisfied with my pizza. The other being, of course, Alicia’s.
Every man with a little leisure and enough money for railway tickets, every man, indeed, who knows how to read, has it in his power to magnify himself, to multiply the ways in which he exists. to make his life full, significant and interesting. And yet, for some inexplicable reason, most of us prefer to spend our leisure and our surplus energies in elaborately, brainlessly and expensively murdering time.
Aldous Huxley, Jesting Pilate
Stop murdering time and head over to Da Michele. You won’t regret the awakening you shall receive.