The best pizza in Brooklyn and my favorite shot at La Esquina

Through the kitchen, down the stairs, to the dungeon....

As hyped up as it is, for me Halloween in Hollywood has always proved to be anti-climactic. So this year, my friend Josh and I decided to fly to New York – kamikaze style – to celebrate the ultimate witching hour. We took the red eye from LAX Friday, arrived in JFK first thing Saturday, and left again on Sunday afternoon. After landing at 7 a.m., we dumped our stuff at my friend Nitro’s house in Brooklyn, went costume shopping during the day and to my favorite restaurant in the big apple for dinner: La Esquina, a Mexican dungeon hidden below a street level Taqueria in SoHo.

Round 2

This was followed by bar hopping, gawking at a zoo of the most hyperbolic outfits I’ve ever witnessed, and drinking copious quantities of tequila across town. We ended up coming full circle back to La Esquina – with an even bigger entourage – for more of the best shot I’ve ever had: a “Completo.”

Penguins

Apparently it’s a Mexican specialty, but I’d never heard of it and I was certainly on a mission to make up for lost time that night. A Completo is comprised of a shot of your choice of tequila – the bar there boasts 130 different kinds – accompanied by another shot glass filled with a spicy chaser called sangrita (no, not sangria). Rather than down it, I slowly sipped away at consecutive rounds, taking pleasure in alternating between the two flavors: the smoothest tequila imaginable (unfortunately I have no idea what brand it was) and this bloody-mary-type concoction of tomato juice, lime juice, salt, chili powder and Tobasco – probably exactly the same ingredients used in another of my favorite beverages: a Michelada. After a few of these, we noticed most of our friends had mysteriously vanished.

We made our last stop of the night at some dive bar called The Cabin Down Below, also hidden underground (below a pizza joint on 7th and A), before finally retiring at a somewhat-reasonable hour in order to wake up for pizza at the legendary Di Fara’s. No one believed we would actually get up early and make it to Midtown, Brooklyn, before catching our flight. But they also don’t know the lengths I will go to for food.

On Sunday morning, the alarm went off, and an image of pizza infiltrated my marinaded brain. I jumped out of bed, dressed, packed, bid our host adieu, and got a taxi to Avenue J where this legendary pizza joint has been located since 1964. Throughout these 35 or so years, Di Fara’s founder, Domenico DeMarco, has single handedly made every pie to enter his customers’ watering mouths. Some of his seven children work in the family business but none of them are allowed to steal his thunder. He has worked almost every day since he set up shop in 1959 and if he can’t go to work (such as back in January when he broke his knee cap) the restaurant is closed until he can. He doesn’t stop for lunch, eating his sole meal after he closes: a pizza with a bottle of wine every night. Only recently, now that he’s in his 70s, has he decided to take it a bit easier, closing the restaurant on Mondays and Tuesdays – to the horror of his devout groupies.

The Menu at Di Fara's

Considering our time constraints, I was worried because every blog and article I have read about Di Fara’s mentions what a nightmare the line is, sometimes taking up to two hours to tackle. However, when we got there, DeMarco’s son took our order almost immediately. I am a crap decision maker when it comes to choosing food – on a good day. On a hungover day, I can’t decide at all.

Josh's Pizza

I stared at the menu while my marinated brain went into overdrive: artichoke or no artichoke. Broccoli rabe. Or not. Garlic…? For sure. Eggplant? Yes…. Right? Luckily they were out of artichoke so that was one less addition to worry about. I ordered my slice with baby eggplant, porcini mushrooms and garlic. Then Josh got the same – but with broccoli rabe. Shit, why didn’t I ask for that? 

He ordered two slices… We sat down. Is one slice going to be enough? I raced back and urgently asked for another. Ha. 

Pork Slap Pale Ale

My favorite thing about the place is that it’s BYOB. While the pizza was baking, Josh went and got us an alcoholic antidote from the liquor store next door. The pizza arrived in Josh’s absence and I stole one of his rabe slices before he could notice. Heehee. I had requested Peroni but they didn’t have any so instead Josh brought back the most esoteric brand of beer he could find: Porkslap Pale Ale. I was skeptical but it turned out to be perfectly flavored and creamy. Just what the doctor ordered.

1424 Avenue J

There’s been a lot of controversy over the fact that DeMarco has just raised the price of a slice to $5, extortionate for a pizza corner shop in the middle of a crummy Jewish Orthodox-with-a-Russian-twist neck of the woods, but totally worth it in the grand scheme of things. DeMarco supposedly imports the finest ingredients he can find: a combination of fresh and canned San Marzano tomatoes, Colavita and Philippo Berio oil, and not one but three types of mozzarella. Apparently, each mozzarella has different moisture and salt contents which, when baked together, DeMarco discovered results in a killer combo. The first is called “La Bonita” and it’s from the pizzaiolo’s hometown in Italy, in the province of Caserta; the second is Fior di Latte, a buffalo mozzarella; and last is regular mozzarella from the Grand Cheese Company. After the pizza has been taken out of the oven, he also sprinkles grana padana, a parmesan-esque cheese, along with freshly cut Israeli basil, for the ultimate finish. Despite all this talk of cheese and oil, the pizza isn’t overly greasy. I have since learned that the absence of an orange oily film on the pizza is a sign that the cheese is high quality. And there was no oily film – until Josh and I went back to the counter and drenched our slices with parmesan and chili oil.

Domenico DeMarco

The pizza base is thin and cripsy, just the way I like it. In fact, just as the Duchess of Windsor once said you can never be too rich or too thin, no pizza can ever be too thin or too crispy as far as I’m concerned. DeMarco makes the dough three to four times a day so that it’s always fresh. He also manages to time the baking down to a T, coming out of the oven with the dough bubbles just blackening enough without burning it. “You see the pizza, and it’s got a lot of black spots, it’s Italian pizza. If you see pizza that’s straight brown, it’s not Italian pizza.” His pizza is definitely Italian.

I took a bite and felt a great sense of comfort ooze over me. To be honest, the garlic was so overwhelming I could barely taste anything else, but I didn’t care. I can never have enough garlic and DeMarco definitely didn’t hold back with the fresh pungent chunks of it. I ate one slice and proceeded to work on the next by which point Josh was already long finished. I started the second slice and sadly realized there was no way I could stuff it all in. As per usual, my eyes were way bigger than my stomach and I begrudgingly gave a very enthusiastic Josh the rest.

Having satiated our pizza craving and started worrying about making it to the airport on time, we bid DeFara’s adieu, caught a cab and arrived at JFK 45 minutes before our flight. One minor detail…. It was taking off from La Guardia. 

Click here to read slice.com’s Di Fara Pizza timeline.

Happy National Sandwich Day

The Italian Special from Faicco’s Pork Store. “It’s like a sunset made of sandwich meats” —EZ. [Photo: Robyn Lee]

It’s National Sandwich Day! So designated because November 3 marks the birthday of John Montagu, the 4th Earl of Sandwich, who popularized everyone’s favorite lunch so long ago.

Looking to celebrate? We’ve rounded up the Best of Serious Eats Sandwich Coverage in honor of the occasion. And if you need a primer, start with Ed’s 22 Sandwiches That Will Change Your Life.

New York and Surrounding Area

Sandwich Alley: New York’s West Village Block of Sandwich Deliciousness
Some Serious Sandwiches in Manhattan
Top 10 Sandwiches in Brooklyn
Bouchon Bakery’s Fluffernutter Sandwich
Xie Xie: An Asian Sandwich Shop (What a Concept)
Roast Beef Sandwich Mondays at Salumeria Biellese
Sandwiches at Saltie
Bklyn Larder: Great Artisanal Market and Deli from the Franny’s Pizzeria Owners
Hoagie Haven in Princeton, NJ
New Jersey: Town Hall Deli’s Sloppy Joe
Num Pang Sandwich Shop: What’s in a Name?
Baoguette, Tasty Banh Mi Sandwiches, Not Tasty Delivery
Salumeria Biellese: The BYOB Hero Review

More cities, and making your own, after the jump.

Chicago and Midwest

Chicago: Tropi Cuban
Chicago: Roma’s Italian Beef and Sausage
Lemongrass Tofu Banh Mi from Nhu Lan Bakery in Chicago
Chicago: Susie’s Drive Thru
Chicago: Bari Foods
Sandwiches at Primanti Brothers: Pittsburgh Between Two Slices
A Full Dimensional Sandwich: Detroit’s 3-D Special Sandwich
Minneapolis: Saffron’s Lamb ‘BLT’

Eastern Seaboard

Mike and Patty’s in Boston: Serious Breakfast (and Sandwiches) from a Seriously Tiny Kitchen
All-Star Sandwich Bar in Cambridge, Mass.
Boston: Kelly’s Roast Beef
Best Roast Pork Sandwiches in Philly
Tony Luke’s Roast Pork Italian, Philadelphia
Straight Wharf Fish Store: Nantucket’s Best-Kept Lunch Secret

The West

For Gourmet Sandwiches in San Francisco on Thursday Nights, Go to Mission Food Truck
The Bay Area’s Best Fried Chicken Sandwich
Crazy Thick Sandwiches at Brazil Fresh Squeeze Cafe in Berkeley
Boccalone Salumeria in SF: Using an Inverted Baguette
“La Cubana” Torta from La Casita Chilanga
Philippe’s: Home of the French Dip Sandwich
Portland, Oregon’s Grilled Cheese Grill
Seattle: Zagi’s Meatball Sub
Street Food Profiles: Nom Nom Truck in Los Angeles, California
Phoenix: Navajo Lamb Sandwich
Stuffing My Face at Pane Bianco

Elsewhere

New Orleans: Ignatius Grocery’s Sautéed Shrimp Remoulade Po’ Boy
Crabby Jack’s Duck Po’Boy
Whiteway Deli in Jacksonville, Florida
Pressed Duck Sandwich at Deli Lane Cafe, Miami

Make Your Own!

Dinner Tonight: Club Sandwich
Reuben Sandwich, Step-by-Step
Croque Madame
Patty Melt
Turkey Shawarama
Bacon, Pear, and Cheese Sandwich
Autostrada Sandwich
Hot Mushroom Sandwiches with Sweet Potato Fries
Sardine Sandwiches with Tomato Jam and Fresh Cheese
Meatball Sub
Grilled Skirt Steak and Pepper Sandwiches

(Posted by Carey Jones, November 3, 2009 at 12:00 PM on Serious Eats)

The River Café: The Best Restaurant on the Thames

Being back in London for a few weeks after almost a full year in the States, I decided I needed to try and catch up on all of the restaurants I’ve been missing out on. My go-to human dining guide in Los Angeles recommended I go to The River Café the last time I was in London. Now, a year later, when my mother offered to take me for lunch, I jumped at the chance. I wanted to finally see why he had recommended this restaurant over the million others London has to offer.

Discreetly located in an old Hammersmith warehouse on a narrow street that runs parallel to the Thames, The River Café is tucked away as if intentionally impossible to find. In fact, we drove past it twice and finally had to ask for directions. My mother had been before but so long ago she couldn’t even remember how to find it, nevermind recognize it once we got inside! Being the darling daughter that I am, I put it down to senility – until I read that the restaurant had burned down a couple of years ago.

 

If the wood fire oven were slightly larger, it would conceal the whole clock projected behind it

The co-proprietor Ruth Rogers is conveniently the wife of London’s most famous architect, Richard Rogers. And yes, he performed his husbandly duty and designed the £2 million refit – although I think he should have saved his energy. The 22-year-old establishment looks more like a canteen than a classic mainstay. Its bar superfluously stretches from one end of the already-long room to the other, high ceilings prevent you from hearing anything in the consistently overbooked dining room, and a large projected clock is hidden on the far back wall, but is not concealed enough to disguise how ridiculous it looks. Despite all our aesthetic complaints, after a beguiling smile from our waiter and a delicious white peach bellini – generously served in an elegant highball glass rather than the usual stingy champagne flute – my mother quickly forgot about the noise and focused on fulfilling her mission to find white peaches this late in the season.

Ever since we went to Harry’s Bar in Venice (where bellinis were apparently invented), it’s become a ritual for me to make my mother her favourite cocktail every time I come to visit. However, the recipe will only work with white peaches or nectarines, which in London in September are nowhere to be seen. Having been obsessed with finding the elusive vital ingredient ever since I got to London 3 weeks ago, when my mother spotted white peaches on the menu at The River Café, I noticed her sudden rush of elation as she sent our waiter on a quest to find out where they could possibly have come from. 

Continuing our detective work, I clocked a plate of wild mushroom pasta arriving in front of the woman next to my mother and we both immediately decided to follow suite. Mysteriously, it wasn’t on our menus. After a lot of confusion our waiter realized that it was because we had only been given the set lunch menu: an easy mistake in my eyes, an intentional con in my mother’s. In any case, we got our Papadelle with Scottish girolles. Thank God. I later looked more closely at the menu and discovered that the cheapest “Secondi” plate would have set us back £29 and most probably have ruined my appetite – having been the one to insist we go there. We also ordered a green side salad with tomatoes lightly drizzled with olive oil and fresh lemon juice.  This seemingly innocuous  dish turned out to be a small revelation as, for once, the tomatoes actually tasted like a tomato should.

The wide, flat, Papadelle pasta was simple but delicious. It tasted like it had been made fresh on the premises – which I assume it had – and the texture was perfect. It had been subtly immersed with thyme, parmesan, and fresh chopped chili the latter of which I had asked for. Although I think it could have been a bit more flagrant, I notoriously always try to add more flavours when I should know better, and the wild mushrooms were perfect just the way they were. In fact so much so, we ended up buying a bag of them to take home at Morton and Bennett (the restaurant’s local deli in Turnam Green).

Ruthie Rogers and Rose Gray’s Italian recipes are famous for their use of seasonal ingredients (they change the menu daily) and exquisite simplicity (using Tuscan peasant dishes for inspiration). And they are clearly doing something right as the establishment’s third decade of regulars are consistently willing to pay eye-watering prices, they’ve just published an 11th cook book, and proteges like Jamie Oliver, Hugh Fearnley-Whittingstall, and Sam Clarke have adapted their style thus continuing their legacy.

Fig Dessert, after we'd eaten some and neatly redesigned the plate for the photo

After our meal and another glass of Prosecco, I had a cappuccino to wake me out of my coma. They only have whole milk, a cunning tactic as I find it is guaranteed to make coffee taste a whole lot better. My mother and I then decided to share a dessert. To my delight, the waiter recommended the baked figs, which have recently become a bit of an obsession of mine, to the point my boyfriend has “endearingly” nicknamed me Fig Face. About 10 of them arrived, oozing light, juicy syrup, sprinkled with almonds, and a blob of thick cream on the side. Although I thought there was no way we would be able to, we licked the plate clean.

To match the food, the service was impeccable. In my favorite restaurant critic A.A. Gill’s words:

“The River Cafe has the most pulchritudinous and elegantly friendly waiters in London. It’s not unusual for middle-aged customers of either sex to fancy the staff of either sex; but the River Café is the only place where every time I come here, I’m convinced that all the staff really fancy me.”

Girolles, Eierschwamm or chanterelles from Morton and Bennett

 

Despite barking out endless requests at him, our waiter never ceased to charm us with his patience and huge flirtatious smile. When my mother quizzed him about the “proper” name for girolles, he couldn’t answer her question but endearingly informed us what he knew of their origins and demonstrated what they look like fresh using his hands for effect. Most importantly (for my mother anyway) our waiter even tried to end our impossible mission to find white peaches – he sent over their manager who consulted with the chef and informed us they had been shipped over especially from Italy. Despite the bad news, he drew us a map with two alternative places we could try, which is how we came to find the deli with the girolles instead. The charm even extended to the owner of Morton and Bennett, who guessed my mother was Austrian and told us he had just got back from his daughter’s wedding there. He was able to inform us that girolles are called Eierschwamm in German and also knew the word my mother had been pressing our waiter for: chanterelles.

 

 

Being the darling daughter I am, the next day I went to Portobello Market and found the last piece of the puzzle: white nectarines. Victory was mine and my mother got her favourite bellini.

A.A. Gill’s review of the River Café:

http://www.timesonline.co.uk/tol/life_and_style/food_and_drink/eating_out/a_a_gill/article5155039.ece

The River Café Website: http://www.rivercafe.co.uk/rc_page.php

Richard Rogers website: http://www.richardrogers.co.uk/rshp_home

Salmon Carpassion

Carpassion

Yum

Finally, Daniel, the owner of Osaka, has sent me pictures of one of my all-time favorite dishes, The Salmon Carpassion. It’s salmon carpaccio drenched in a creamy but light passion fruit sauce, coated with crispy filo strips round the edges. Divine.

Now I’m on a crusade to get Daniel to open his next franchise in our very own neck of the woods so I don’t have to fly to South America for another bite.

The Best Limoncello Recipes

It’s summertime in California and all I crave right now is air conditioning and ice. There couldn’t be a better time to have a huge batch of homemade Italian limoncello in your freezer and spend the rest of the summer drinking it. The liquor is a sweet, thick syrup, perfect for making refreshing cocktails with a kick that can knock you over – or out – after just one glass.

I had an English Midsummer’s Dinner Party recently and decided to test out my limoncello recipe on a bunch of friends. It was a super warm night so we dined outside and sipped the refreshing Italian aperetif while the final touches were being made to dinner. I mixed the limoncello with lemon vodka, rosemary and fresh lime juice, poured it over a LOT of crushed ice and topped it up with sparkling water.

After I’d drunk about half my glass, I had a somewhat-hazy revelation that involved topping everyone’s drink with Prosecco – just to make sure the entire group was slurring by dinner. And it worked: the perfect decoy for anyone nervous about their cooking skills. The drink is so refreshing and sweet that its impossible to put down while its main ingredient, 190 proof Everclear, remains fully disguised. That is…until you realize you’re not slurping lemonade and maybe you should have resisted the urge to keep drinking more.

I made my huge batch of limoncello using a recipe from this brilliant site, illustrated with step-by-step photos catered to the challenged-recipe-followers like myself: http://www.italylogue.com/things-to-do/limoncello-recipe.html

I used evaporated cane sugar instead of regular bleached granules and huge organic lemons specially delivered from my friend’s pollution-free tree in Malibu.

Limoncello di Lucia

Ingredients:

My lemon peel and Everclear before the fermenting process

• 750 ml bottle of grain alcohol (I used Everclear)
• 7 or 8 large lemons (make sure they’re organic and not sprayed, you’re using the peel!)
• 5 cups water
• 3 cups sugar

Directions:

• Wash the lemons thoroughly – scrub them clean of all residue.
• Using a peeler, take off the skins being careful not to get any of the white lemon “pith” onto your peelings or it will add bitterness to your limoncello.
• Put the peels into a large, open-mouth jar with the alcohol and seal the lid tightly. Put the date on the bottle.
• Put the jar in a cool, dry place for one week – once a day, shake the contents well to remix everything. You’ll notice the color of the liquid changing to yellow and the color of the lemon peels fading.
• One week later, dissolve the sugar completely in water by heating it on the stove. Then cool the sugar-water mixture to room temperature.
  

  Residue lemon peel

• Strain the lemon peels out of the alcohol and then mix the alcohol with the sugar-water. Usually the color of the alcohol changes from clear yellow to cloudy yellow when it’s combined with the sugar-water.
• Pour the mixture into bottles which can be sealed tightly and store them in the freezer. If the Limoncello is kept “frozen” until serving it becomes thick and syrupy.

Once the Limoncello is good to go, there is an abundance of delectable delights you can make with it.

The Amalfi Cocktail

* 1-1/2 ounces citrus vodka
* 1/2 ounce limoncello
* 1/2 ounce fresh lime juice
* 2 sprigs lemon thyme
(Created by Ektoras Binikos, Aureole Restaurant, New York City)

Lemon-Thyme Sorbet

Ingredients:

1. 1 1/2 cups water
2. 1 cup plus 2 tablespoons sugar
3. 3/4 ounce lemon thyme sprigs
4. 3/4 cup fresh lime juice

Directions:

1. In a medium saucepan, combine the water and sugar and bring to a boil, stirring to dissolve the sugar. Add the thyme, cover and let stand for at least 2 hours or overnight. Add the lemon juice and strain the syrup.

Alternative Lemon Thyme Syrup
2 sprigs fresh lemon thyme or regular thyme, leaves removed
zest of 1 lemon

1. In the sauce pan, bring the sugar and water to a boil over medium high heat, just until the sugar dissolves. Remove from heat.

2. Add the lemon thyme leaves and lemon zest. Allow to sit for 10 to 15 minutes, until the flavors are infused. Stir in the fresh lemon juice.

3. Allow to cool to room temperature. Transfer to the plastic container, then cover and refrigerate overnight.

Lemon-Thyme Frozen Yogurt

Ingredients:

2/3 cup maple syrup or agave

3 teaspoons fresh lemon or lime juice (I prefer lime as it’s less tart and more flavorful)

A handful or fresh lemon thyme

6 teaspoons grated lemon rind (use organic lemons)

A pinch of salt

3 cups Greek yogurt or more if you prefer it less sweet (low fat or full fat optional)

2 egg whites

Preparation:

Blended lemon rind

Chop or blend the grated lemon rind chop into small pieces and remove the leaves from the lemon thyme sprigs. In a stainless steel saucepan, add both ingredients to the juice, sweetener of your choice (preferably maple syrup or agave) and pinch of salt and cook over medium heat and stir until the lemon rind and lemon thyme is well infused into the mix. If you prefer completely smooth frozen yogurt, you don’t have to chop up the lemon rind or de-leaf the lemon thyme springs. Instead you can simmer the ingredients until heated through and then strain the syrup using a sieve.

Simmer the syrup, lemon rind, lemon thyme and a pinch of salt

Wait for the syrup to cool and then mix in the Greek yogurt. I quickly blended the ingredients but not too much as I like to retain the slightly chunky texture. Place this in the fridge or freezer for half an hour or until cold.

Beat the egg white until stiff peaks form, gently fold into the yogurt mixture and place in the ice cream maker, as per the instructions.

Keep the frozen yogurt in an airtight container and try to consume within 3 days, although, if frozen, it will last much longer.

WARNING: Don’t forget how alcoholic this is. I got completely drunk before the batch even made it to the ice cream maker, only to discover the main compartment was missing…. And so I ate more.

The Quest for the Best Smoothie

I’m mid way through my quest for the best veggie burger and have come to the realization that there are too many to sample in one consecutive run. What’s more, the sudden onslaught of burger buns – and alcohol – hasn’t eased my extreme fear of wearing a bikini in public this summer.

At the beginning of last week I said that I wouldn’t drink until Friday. I lasted through Monday, limited myself to two sips of wine on Tuesday, my friend flew in from London on Wednesday and I woke up with a hangover every morning thereafter. So, now it’s detox time and the perfect opportunity to divert my obsession of burgers to finding the best healthy smoothie instead.

I used to live off smoothies so I’m already a self-proclaimed expert. I’m going to post my favorite finds one by one, in no particular order.

No 1: One of my old favorite homemade concoctions is the Acai Banilla Smoothie:

Rio Bowl

I discovered the “Rio Bowl” while traveling around South America. Rio’s beach fronts are adorned with frozen acai berry stands, which can also be found scattered across street corners all over Brazil.

The juice is extracted from the small acai fruit by soaking the seeds in water to soften the thin outer shell and then squeezing and straining them to produce a very tasty, dense purple liquid, which is typically blended with sugar, tapioca and ice. The refreshing icy pulp is either served as a smoothie or in a bowl mixed with granola, honey and banana. Since the recent Brazilian/acai awareness explosion, I have noticed similar concoctions popping up at juice bars all over L.A. (VP Discount on Beverly Blvd., Earth Bar, Real Raw Live and One Life Natural Foods, to name a few.) And you can even buy bad ready-made imitations at supermakets. Acai is full of antioxidents and is also a natural stimulant – a perfect pick me up to replace coffee.

Ingredients:
2 sambazon açai berry smoothie packs or a few scoops of açai berry sorbet
1 almost overripe banana (for extra sweetness)
A splash of apple juice
A splash of vanilla soy milk (for extra creaminess). Vanilla SOY DREAM is my favorite brand
A big scoop of ice
Any seasonal berries (optional)

Blend all the ingredients together with ice in an electric blender. The more ice you use, the denser the smoothie will be. I prefer lots so that it’s almost the same texture as ice cream and the vanilla soy milk provides the perfect sweet, vanilla-y creaminess. Serve as a smoothie or in a bowl topped with granola, extra vanilla soy milk and any fruit of your choice.

Watch this space: More Best Smoothies Coming Up….

Recipe: The Best Alternative Summer Rolls (a.k.a. Vietnamese Spring Rolls)

GUACAMOLE SUMMER ROLLS

Makes: About 20 rolls

Prep time: About 2 hours

Warning: I am useless at sticking to precise measurements, so feel free to improvise based on my guidelines

INGREDIENTS

Guacamole:
10 ripe avocados
2-4 large garlic cloves (depending on how much you like garlic. I love it so I would use an entire bulb – unless planning to kiss someone later on.)
2 limes worth of fresh juice
4 finely chopped spring onions
A quarter of a red onion, finely chopped
A handful of fresh coriander leaves. Prepare extra for garnishing later on.
1 large tomato chopped up (with the middle taken out) or you can use pre-made salsa for extra flavor
Garlic seasoning salt
Pepper

A bag of shredded cabbage and/or shredded broccoli stems and carrots (most other shredded veg will do also)

Dressing (for the cabbage):
Lemon/lime to taste
Olive oil to taste
2 tablespoons of sweet chili sauce
2 tablespoons of peanut sauce
Coconut and lemongrass mixed spice (I prefer Thai mixed spices but you can experiment with other spices too)
Cayenne pepper, ground black pepper and seasoning salt

20 round rice paper wraps

Mixed herb salad (I like the one from Trader Joe’s)

Peanut Dipping Sauce (which I like to mix together with sweet chili sauce so that it’s sweeter and not as dense)

DIRECTIONS

1. Make the guacamole first. Mix together all the ingredients and mush it up with a fork. I prefer chunky guacamole which requires very minimal mushing!

2. In a separate bowl, mix the dressing into the cabbage and shredded vegetables.

3. There is an art to handling the rice paper wraps and I have no idea what that is, so I created my own technique….
Delicately place the hard (and brittle) rice paper on an aluminium foil-covered plate and place the plate over a larger, deeper plate. Pour boiling water over the rice paper, making sure that the entirety gets wet and then drain out the water into the larger plate. If the rice paper feels hard, dab it with more boiling water at any point. The trick to this is to make sure that the rice paper doesn’t stick to itself before rolling it because it’s very difficult to un-stick it without tearing.

4. Lay out a few of the mixed herb lettuce leaves on the middle of the now-soft, rice paper. This provides extra firmness when you roll the wrap. Add a tablespoon or two of the guacamole onto the middle of the lettuce bed and a couple of tablespoons of the dressed shredded vegetables on top of that. Garnish with a few coriander leaves.

5. Roll one side of the paper over the filling and then use the aluminium to tighten firmly. Fold over both the sides and then, again using the foil, roll the rest of the rice paper. The moist paper will stick to itself but it’s important not to overfill the middle with too much guacamole or veg and to make sure that it packed tightly and rolled firmly. Also make sure that no water gets into the roll. Feel free to add any seasoning, according to taste, and you can swap the Thai seasoning with any other flavored spices.

6. Put the peanut and sweet chili dipping sauce in a small bowl and serve with the serving dish/plate of wraps.

Best Tapastronomy: The Bazaar

The Vanishing Bar

It got off to a bad start. I entered The Bazaar with a hangover, bumped straight into an ex that makes my skin crawl, the table wasn’t ready, and we were shuffled off to a bar with a 10-foot barricade of surgically enhanced Hollywood monstrosities. I didn’t have the energy to push my way through the crowd so I just hovered while two of my friends went out for a cigarette to kill time. Granted, the chaotic, Philippe Stark-designed bazaar provided the ultimate distraction while we waited to be seated. The juxtaposition of the bar, patisserie, two dining areas, and a Moss’ retail counter – where you can purchase any of the random, protruding monuments in the SLS Hotel lobby (if you have a gazillion dollars to spare) – are catered to the restaurant’s ADD crowd. I prided myself on being the first to discover the portable liquid nitrogen-prepared caiphirinia bar, but, by the time my friends had all congregated and agreed to try a cocktail, it had vanished.

The compartmentalized chaos reminded me of a train station during rush hour – where you have to relentlessly fight through the mayhem to catch your train. There was an underlying sense of organization – albeit a vague one. The delay felt like it was intended to force guests to explore the museum-like premises – which it did – and the bill somehow follows customers as they wonder through the hustle and bustle.

Things didn’t get any better when we were seated on a rock-hard bench that immediately transported me back to the dreaded days of British boarding school meals. Our chirpy waitress came over and politely asked if this was our first time at the restaurant, to which the guy placed next to me flippantly responded: “No, it’s my last.” Once she had walked away with our drink orders, he murmured, “After this I’m going across the street to get Korean barbeque [at Woo Lae Oak].”

“Why?”

“So I can get a proper meal.”

Great!

Caiphirinia Sorbet

My anxiety was not alleviated when the menu arrived and I was confronted with more kinds of tapas than I’ve ever seen in my life. One side is listed under Rojo (traditional tapas) and the other under Blanca (modern tapas). Seeing as I am the ultimate victim of both food envy and indecision, my poor hungover brain had a mental breakdown. I could have ordered the set menu – but I’m way too much of a masochist to choose the easy option.

The portable nitrogen bar came to the rescue and we were whisked up frozen caiphirinias at the table. They are prepared using pre-made cachaça-based mix, which is stirred in a bowl of liquid nitrogen and served frozen, much like a margarita but even more potent as there’s no ice involved. The sorbet is then garnished with edible flowers and a spoon to devour it with. One mouthful went straight to my head but I immediately had to have another. Yummee!

Olive Bombs

The Spanish chef, José Andrés, is a molecular gastronomy wizard who trained under some of the best chefs in Barcelona before venturing across the pond to conquer the culinary scene in Washington D.C. and, now, L.A. He has found imaginative ways to transform banal ingredients into culinary masterpieces and, conversely, gourmet delights into conventional dishes – with a twist. I mean, how extraordinary can a “Philly cheesesteak” and jamón plate possibly be? You’d be surprised.

Back to the food…. The waiter produced a jar of olives and proceeded to place four of them on a row of spoons so meticulously he reduced a middle-aged man into a fit of giggles. I popped one in my mouth to see what all the fuss over a green olive was about – and my eyes nearly popped out when it exploded with liquid. The olive was actually a gelatinous skin filled with olive essence and olive oil: an invention by Andrés’ former trainer, Ferran Andrià of El Bulli, one of the world’s most famous and influential restaurants. This explained the waiter’s ridiculous precision and made my hysterical friend laugh even harder as it burst in his mouth. In spite of the hoo-ha, the olive bomb actually tasted amazing, exactly how a perfect olive should taste but in liquid form. The dish was served alongside a plate of real olives stuffed with anchovies to emphasize the contrast.

Candy Floss Foie Gras Lollypop

I had a mini air bread sandwich with mildly salty sea urchin and avocado, combining two of the most buttery non-dairy foods. It was to-die-for but a bit too adventurous for anyone else at my table, and too rich for me to attempt the last of the three bites. My friend ordered a “lollypop” stick of candy floss- (a.k.a cotton candy) and corn nut-coated fois gras, which she raved about but I only appreciated from a distance.

Guacamole-Filled Jicama Pouches

My favorite dish was the guacamole-filled pouches made of paper-thin jicama adorned with micro cilantro and Fritos. I love fresh guacamole any day but the avocados they used were perfect: there was a hint of spice and the jicama and corn-chip strip provided just the right diversity of flavor and texture, even though I would never have thought of combining them like this. I also loved the avocado-wrapped, melt-in-your-mouth tuna ceviche roll; sea scallops in thick, smokey Romesco sauce; the tastiest sautéed wild mushrooms I’ve ever had; and giant garlic shrimp, lightly cooked to perfection. The only disappointment was their brussels sprouts which were too undercooked for my liking and lacked flavor, despite the cloud of lemon-scented foam (which resembled bubbly washing up liquid).

Brussels Sprouts with Lemon Washing-Up Liquid Bubbles

For dessert, I skeptically ordered the waitress’ recommendation: hot chocolate mousse with pear sorbet and salty hazlenut praline. I was craving chocolate but usually don’t like mousse. This was different. It was hot, rich and salty like the molten center of chocolate lava cake. Small pear cubes, salty caramel, and crunchy, mini, dark chocolate balls were mixed into the orgasmic goo. All my favorite flavors and textures in one mouthful. Heaven.

The dishes averaged $10 each and we ordered a couple of bottles of Malbec for $35 each – insanely good value.

Despite the challenging start and unfortunate clientelle, once again food (and alcohol) saved the day!

OSAKA: The Best Restaurant in Buenos Aires

About a year after I moved to L.A., it became painfully apparent that I was about to morph into a full-time working adult and wave goodbye to the glorious days of unappreciated long holidays, so I seized my last window of opportunity and escaped to South America. My best friend Kim and I planned to stay with a friend in Punta del Este, Uruguay, for three weeks before gallivanting around Brazil…but then we got sidetracked. During its summer (around December), Punta must have the highest concentration of beautiful women I’ve ever seen. It’s like the Saint Tropez of South America except all the women look like Amazonians with tall, stick-thin tanned bodies; perfect, pert boobs; huge manes of thick, straight hair and an abundance of drug-free energy. We decided to investigate. Upon finding out that most of them were on holiday from Buenos Aires, a mere hour-and-a-bit ferry ride across the Río de la Plata, we couldn’t resist a minor detour. As soon as we arrived, we raided every shop they had to offer, drank copious amounts of Malbec wine and went to the hairdresser, hoping that we would somehow emerge looking like the beach Godesses we had just been ogling in Punta. It went slightly pear-shaped when, instead of gorgeous golden highlights, Kim’s hair went orange. She wasn’t a happy bunny when l made a quick getaway and ruthlessly abandoned her at the hairdresser to meet some English ex-pats I had already made dinner plans with.

Me with Marina on the Terrace

My friends had booked a table at the then-newly opened OSAKA, a Peruvian/Japanese fusion restaurant in Palermo. There was a large group of us so I had no say in what was ordered; I just eagerly consumed anything placed in front of me – except the Pisco Sour Peruvian specialty drink which nearly finished me off after the first sip. It was a truly memorable meal and ever since that night I have dreamt of reliving that dining experience. Three years later, when I found out that Radiohead would be touring South America (and I had the opportunity to hop on their metaphorical train in Argentina), not going wasn’t an option. I even offered to pay my new boss to let me take a holiday three weeks into the job. I stayed with my Argentinian friend Marina who had come to OSAKA with me the last time and from the moment I landed that’s pretty much all I talked about. I arrived on Sunday morning and wanted to go to OSAKA immediately – but sadly it was closed so we decided to go for lunch on Monday instead.

Daniel Delgado in the Kitchen

We sat under an umbrella on the roof terrace which was empty save for two local men who happened to have cigarettes. Marina made me use my English accent to scab one for her which somehow segued into me ranting about OSAKA being my favorite restaurant. One of them – who it turned out Marina knew – pointed at his friend Daniel and cheekily told me I was looking at the owner. I didn’t want to be the gullible foreigner so I refused to believe him. The four of us ended up chatting for ages and it turned out that Daniel was also going to the Radiohead show the next day. The menu was in Spanish so I had to get Marina to translate and still couldn’t decide what to order.They had an extensive list of “tiradito” and ceviche with different sauces paired with various types of raw fish. Tiradito is a classic Peruvian dish, which consists of carpaccio marinated in lime juice and a creamy hot peper sauce.

Mi Peru "Tiradito"

The waiter couldn’t speak a word of English so after a lot of Spanglish and hand flapping on my part, he very patiently offered to split the tiradito dish in half so that I wouldn’t have to choose just one of the sauces – and, more likely, so that he could escape my gibberish. We ended up with one half of a dish called Mi Peru, which is abadejo (sea bass) carpaccio topped with thin rows of pesto chili, spicy mayo and olive oil. They split that with another dish called Carpassion, which I didn’t even want but turned out to be the best raw fish dish I’ve ever had in my life. It’s thin slices of salmon carpaccio marinated in passion fruit syrup and lemon juice, sprinkled with watercress, mini, wafer-thin phyllo strips, and a dash of wasabi. It’s sweet but not sickly so, and there’s a hint of spice. The crunchiness of the phyllo strips provides the perfect texture when you roll it up and stuff it in your mouth whole!

Not the Tuna Maguro Ribs

We also ordered the Maguro Ribs, which was supposed to be grilled red tuna chunks served on butternut squash purée – but they’d run out of tuna and gave us more salmon instead. It wasn’t what I had envisioned and we’d just eaten the world’s most amazing salmon dish, so it was a little disappointing to be given more salmon with no warning. This time round we didn’t lick the plate clean. We asked for our check and, much to my surprise, I was proven wrong by the scruffy man next to me. Our bill had been taken care of…so maybe he was the owner after all!  As my friends from L.A. had just arrived, I said I would try to get them all to come back for dinner that evening. Unfortunately that never ended up working out as, even though most of them are vegetarian, we ended up at SUCRE, supposedly one of Argentina’s best steakhouses, instead! I sat through dinner playing with my food and raving about my lunch so to shut me up it was agreed we’d go back to OSAKA the next day.

Group Photo

Miraculously, this time we managed to get everyone together. Two more friends came straight from the airport, one friend staggered in having had an hour’s sleep, and Bryce and Nigel, my friends from dinner the night before, lived up to their promise. The owner, Daniel Delgado, couldn’t make it but he told us to order drinks on him – so this time I succumbed to a passion fruit Caiphiroska, which is the Argentinian version of Brazil’s Caiphirinia. Caiphiroskas are my favorite drink as they’re made from vodka and are much less prone to giving you a hangover than Cachaça. Usually, it’s just made with vodka, lime and a ton of sugar, but at OSAKA they add fresh passion fruit juice and macerated strawberries served over crushed ice. It went straight to my head as I’m not used to drinking during the day and the South Americans have a tendency to make their drinks really strong.

2 Olives Tiradito Octopus with black and green olive cream

Bryce ordered himself a dish called Sesame Sake, which is a fillet of salmon topped with golden sesame and sweet miso sauce. It’s a bit like Nobu’s black cod: its buttery texture melts in your mouth and it tastes like it could be a dessert. As it was the first dish to arrive, there was no way we were going to let Bryce keep it to himself…we politely waited for him to take the first bite and then we all delved in. Then came the onslaught of tiraditos and ceviche. When we were ordering no one believed me when I said the Carpassion was the best thing on the menu but, needless to say, when it arrived even the non-salmon eaters (Brian), went back for more. We even had to order another two rounds!

Me with Daniel

The different kinds of cevichitos were served in an ornate presentation of porcelain chinese soup spoons. One was the “Thai” which consisted of octopus, mango and caramelized plantain, and the other kind was called “Seafood,” a concoction of shellfish, mango, phyllo strips and chili pepper cream. The best thing about the mini ceviche was that because it was served in spoons, none of the sauce got wasted. We also had the regular (larger portioned) Thai ceviche with chopped up raw white fish marinated in mango, chili jam, onion, lemon, coriander and a splash of coconut milk, which burst with exotic fruity, spicy flavors. Marina’s and my fantasy from the day before was fulfilled when, in addition to our orders, the waiter brought out most of the other dishes on the menu for us to try. As the food relentlessly kept on coming out, we ordered the check and tried to make a quick escape but the bill took forever to arrive and another course, with EVERY dessert on – and off – the menu, appeared instead. Everyone started to get impatient until they actually tried the desserts and in the end we gladly finished all of them. My favorite was the Suspiro Limeño, a baked milk pudding topped with lemongrass-flavored Italian meringue. This was a pleasant surprise as I don’t usually like creamy puddings. To show my appreciation for fulfilling my three-year-long dream, I was able to sneak Daniel in to the Radiohead afterparty. It was hosted at the Faena, a kitsch hotel designed by Philippe Starck (which had a room adorned with tacky white unicorn heads), where, after a few drinks, I proceeded to introduce Daniel to everyone there – regardless of whether or not they cared – as the owner of my favorite restaurant. Now I’m trying to persuade Daniel to open a restaurant in L.A. and have offered to be his publicist in return for a lifetime of free meals.

The Unicorn Room at Faena

This is, without a doubt, the best restaurant in Buenos Aires and proves you don’t have to starve in South America if you don’t eat meat.

Here’s the OSAKA website with the menu and mouth-watering pictures of the food: http://www.osaka.com.pe/osaka_in.htm

Even though it’s a chain and considered a tourist trap, I also love the Sushi Club in Las Cañitas:  http://www.sushiclubweb.com/

Faena Hotel (in Puerto Madero) website: http://www.faenahotelanduniverse.com/

Ruffino, on the same block as Sucre, is also very good, and on Wednesdays you can stay late for a drink, good music and maybe dance.

For Italian food, try Manero.

Olsen, in Palermo, has a very nice garden, serves Nordic food, and offers over 60 different kinds of vodka!

To explore your options, go to http://www.facebook.com/l/;www.guiaoleo.com.ar where you can find information about all restaurants in Bs As. You can search by price, by area, by type of food, etc.

For those of you who’ve also felt like jumping ship and moving to Buenos Aires for good, you’re not alone: http://food.theatlantic.com/abroad/one-way-ticket-buenos.php

Best Movie/Pizza Evening

My date for Phil's movie night

I thought I loved eating more than anyone… and then I met Phil Rosenthal. A couple of years ago while working at Phoenix Books, I produced/directed the audiobook of Phil’s autobiography “You’re Lucky You’re Funny” and couldn’t believe my luck when Phil insisted on taking us out to lunch every day he came in to record. Then, when his book came out, Phil beat Pizzeria Mozza to its own launch party by hosting his book signing party there – and once again eating was part of the job.

Phil loves food so much that he’s invested in a bunch of restaurants in L.A., namely Jar, The Hungry Cat and most recently Pizzeria- and Osteria Mozza – all in addition to creating his show, “Everybody Loves Raymond,” which recently ended after a 10-year run. Normally I only like cracker-thin crust, New York-style pizza but Nancy Silverton’s dough at Mozza is an exception. For me, it’s always about the texture, preferably all mixed together in one big multi-textured mush. I love the comfort of chewy cookie dough that gets stuck in every crevice of your teeth, as well as super crunchy, gum-splintering crackers (again, preferably together) – and the four-minute woodfire-blazed pizza at Mozza has both. It’s thin-ish with an extra crisp, almost-burnt puffy crust that’s slightly chewy in the middle, and, best of all, the pizzas are small so you can try all the toppings without feeling like a complete glut. Well, at least you can if you’re at Phil’s Sunday night movie/pizza evening where a new pie comes popping out every few minutes. He’s been hosting the pizza night for longer than I’ve been alive, together with his superwife, Monica. She played Ray Romano’s brother’s wife in the “Everybody Loves Raymond” (she still had to audition for the part) and, despite being an actress, she’s the most smiley and welcoming hostess I’ve ever met, making them – together with their two children – the most disgustingly perfect family I know.

When Phil invested in the Silverton/Batali/Bastianich enterprise, he clearly had an ulterior motive… to make his movie night indisputably perfect. “When I heard that Mario Batali, the greatest Italian chef in the world, and Nancy Silverton [from La Brea Bakery and Campanile] were going in together on a restaurant in L.A., I got on my knees and grabbed her leg and did not let go until she let me invest,” Rosenthal jokes. “I did it so I could get in.” Yeah right. He did it so that he could get a replica of Mozza’s pizza oven installed in his kitchen and their cook Gustavo Canseco to make pizzas for him and all his friends. He doesn’t even need to go to the restaurant anymore.

Replica of Mozza's Pizza Oven

Now for the toppings…. I’m vegetarian so I usually cheat and pick off all the meat because I’m greedy and don’t want to miss out on any of the garnishes, but there’s still plenty of choice. My favorite topping is broccoli and garlic with caciocavallo (a Sicilian cheese), which is also made without cheese for vegans; for the sweet and spicy lovers, there’s a mozzarella and tomato pie, coated with a canopy of wafer-thin pineapple slices, sprinkled with jalapeños (my second favorite); for the adventurous there’s rapini (a cross between broccoli and a bitter herb) with cherry tomatoes and anchovies (which I don’t really like but I’ll eat anyway); there’s one with egg (I love egg on pizza) and bits of bacon; squash blossoms, tomato and burrata which is dolloped on like clotted cream (another favorite – it has great texture when mushed up in your mouth); a delicious one with clams, garlic and pecorino which I’ve never had elsewhere; and of course the staple margherita, which tastes anything but ordinary. Every time I go to Phil and Monica’s there seems to be another topping I haven’t noticed before, including fennel sausage, goat’s cheese, funghi, spek, salumi, and fingerling potatoes with gorgonzola dolce. The trick is to come early so you don’t miss your favorite because it’s rare for the same one to appear twice, no matter how sweetly you smile at the cook. (Believe me, I’ve tried.)

Because Phil is such a food fanatic, he knows the best restaurant, dessert and café in every city he’s been to which comes in very handy when you don’t. When I was in Paris, he recommended that I go to Angelina for the best hot chocolate I’ve ever had. So last October, I dragged my best friend Kimberley and two of her friends across town through the rain to rue de Rivoli, only to be confronted by a queue that went out the door. Annoyed, wet and hungover from excessive shopping and partying during Paris Fashion Week, we waited impatiently in this palatial and uncomfortably snobby café. It was well worth the huffing and puffing when our enormous serving of thick, rich, velvety hot chocolate l’Africain arrived, accompanied by whipped cream in a white ceramic pitcher. Phil was right. It was the best hot chocolate I’ve ever had, and my foul mood subsided almost instantaneously so that I could continue to shop and drink with a smile on my face and a warm, comforting sensation oozing through my veins.

Unfortunately, Angelina doesn’t cater at Phil’s house but Thomas Keller – arguably the best chef in America and owner of The French Laundry and Bouchon – does. There are always the most amazing desserts sprawled out across the marble kitchen countertop, and I usually do my best to not get distracted from the pizza, but when everyone was making yummy noises and Ray Romano went for seconds and then thirds of the chocolate peanut butter cups, I had to grab one before they all vanished. YOU HAVE GOT TO TRY THESE – even if  you don’t like peanut butter. They are gooey, almost-liquid, peanut butter-filled, Vahlrona chocolate-coated cups with rock sea salt chunks that burst with flavor as the center immerses your mouth, leaving you not wanting to swallow in case you never get a chance to taste something this good again. I had planned to race straight to Bouchon Bakery to suck them dry of peanut butter cups, but of course none of Keller’s restaurants are local, and when I called all three Bouchon locations in Vegas, Yountville and New York, none of them would deliver (yes anyone out there, feel free to send me some….). But for those of you in L.A., don’t lose hope… at the end of the year, Keller is opening a Bouchon in Beverly Hills right next to Phoenix Books’ office, and I plan to be their first customer. (For those of you planning to join me it will be in between Beverly Drive and Canon, in the courtyard where the new Montage Hotel just opened, north of Wilshire.)

Last week there was more to-die-for dessert from another sugar haven, Huckleberry Bakery, which couple Josh Loeb and Zoe Nathan from the Rustic Inn just launched. Zoe’s mother hand-delivered the cakes (of course) and after my 8th slice of pizza I vowed to stay away until my lack of self control took over and I wolfed down a slice of the best blueberry, custard cream tart you could ever possibly imagine. Rebecca and I also swiped a mini chocolate cupcake on our way out and found ourselves chewing the wrapping before we had reached the car.

Once everyone has rushed to stuff themselves with as much pizza and dessert as they can before the movie starts, they shuffle into the luxurious sofa-crammed screening room, grabbing a handful of popcorn from the old-fashioned cart outside. Once everyone’s settled, Lily shouts out to make sure everyone has water and the 13 1/2-by-10-foot screen slowly descends from the ceiling. The screenings range from oldies to sneak previews, to Oscar-nominated pics and the annual Academy Award ceremony, to documentaries eagerly offered up by their producers (the creators of “Bigger, Stronger, Faster” and “Who Killed the Electric Car?” have both held Q & A’s while I’ve been there). There’s nearly always someone in the audience who either made the film or points themselves out while we’re watching it. I watched “Raging Bull” last week and the woman next to me whispered that she was an extra in one of the scenes, “It was on the Lower East side, boiling and took a whole week to shoot.”

First Phil plays a short live music clip of his choice (in Blue Ray so that it feels like you’re at an actual concert) and then the movie starts, by which point I’m usually stuffed so full of wine, pizza and dessert that I can barely stay awake. The very first time I went to pizza evening (before the days of the Mozza oven and their new house), I was so warm and cozy that despite my best efforts to prize my eyelids open, I slept through the entire movie. Shortly after, at Phil’s book signing, I was talking to a friend of his about how amazing his movie nights are, when she recognized me, “Oh, I sat next to you. I think you were asleep on my shoulder!”

To read more about Phil’s movie night in the “L.A. Times,” click here.

Now… it’s up to you to start the fight…. Feel free to comment if you think you can compete for best movie/pizza night. (I know it’s not apparent but you can comment by clicking on the highlighted comment link below.)

Other amazing pizzas worth mentioning are:

Spago, Wolfgang Puck’s restaurant in Beverly Hills. The one with smoked salmon and dill cream, topped with caviar. (Nancy Silverton was once the head pastry chef there and Phoenix Books takes over the restaurant every year for its staple Super Bowl Party.)

Mulberry Pizza (which I just discovered was founded by Robert DeNiro’s wife in “Raging Bull”). The one with the breaded eggplant (aubergine).

And these ones I haven’t tried:

Una Pizza Napoletana in Manhattan; Spacca Napoli in Chicago; and Pizzeria Bianco in Phoenix.

Go to the Pizza Share website to find the best pie hole near you. You can boost their ranking by clicking on “share.”