My darling friend Livia saw that I was in dire straits at Piazza Trilussa. As it happened, I arrived at the lovely pizza pained by hunger and strife. Livia suggested I should walk a few minutes down the Tevere river and find Supplí. Now, I am not often excited by breaded rice and cheese, but Livia insisted this was the restaurant for me.
So off I went, not expecting too much. But boy was I wrong. Supplí conformed to my usual restaurant criteria. This is a tiny restaurant with no seats. Located in picturesque Trastevere, this little hidden eatery took me by surprise.
Looking left after entering will reveal a fine selection of fritti. The tin plate in the back with the fewest delicacies is the one you should be looking at. It contains the legendary supplí of its namesake. Below is a photograph of the earthly delights up close and relatively personal:
As you can see, there is no end to the delightful succulence of rice, tomato sauce and mozzarella. Apologies for sensationalising this desription, there really isn’t much one can say about a supplí. However, what followed can be elaborated upon. 
Equally legendary was Supplí’s pizza selection, to the right of the entrance. Try the marinara and the cotto. They use something extraordinary on the marinara, the taste lingers and stays with you for many minutes after you have left.
Given the shocking amount of awards Supplí has won, one can imagine the quality of their foodstuffs. Note especially acclaim from Le Routard, a guide I have used on all too many of my trips aborad to find stunning suggestible gems everywhere I go.