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By Guest Columnist Caleb Schiff<\/strong><\/p>\n Lately, I’ve been thinking a lot about balance and pizza. A Neapolitan pizza, for example, is best summarized by the short description: “Fresh ingredients on good bread.” It’s really a simple concept. Yet, because of the focus on the basics, the room for perceived-error is small. Other pizza styles that may be heavily topped or have many components can hide inconsistencies in the dough or the sauce or the cheese.<\/p>\n While recently traveling in Italy, I felt completely in my element concerning my ability to discuss and compare pizza. It’s a lot of fun and oh so tasty. And when it comes to casting judgment on pizza I take it seriously. After visiting countless Neapolitan pizzerias and preparing innumerable pizzas from my wood-fired oven at home, I also believe I have the discerning palate to identify good pizza. Two pies I ate during my time in the southern Italian region of Basilicata, located north of Puglia and east of Campania, offer a case-and-point of what constitutes a good pie.<\/p>\n On Nov. 8th, I visited Oi Mari in Matera. The place has a cavernous atmosphere with low lighting. It’s built into the Sassi, which are ancient dwellings built into the limestone cliffs of Matera. A very<\/p>\n <\/p>\n cool place. I was excited and hungry after a long ride from Alberobello. I ordered the Capriocciosa <\/em>(tomato, mozz, prosciutto, and artichokes) and their house wine, which was made with local Negroamaro grapes.<\/p>\n \u00a0<\/p>\n The pizza arrived in about 10 minutes. The crust looked fantastic, and it was. I do think it could have used another 15 seconds in the oven, but it was still tender and the cornicione<\/em> was quite lofty; the flavor was spot on. However, the toppings were underwhelming. The tomato was all right, kind of plain, the mozzarella was good, but the prosciutto cotto<\/em> and the single piece of artichoke was, well, not that good. After eating prosciutto crudo<\/em>, cotto is like having that slimy ham you find in plastic ziplock bags in US groceries. I really don’t think it belongs on pizza. I almost picked it all off. As far as greens go, I don’t think they should be there for show. A single piece of artichoke on the center of a pie is just teasing, and probably has been the source of the eventual break-up of a few relationships. So, this pie from Oi Mari was not all I had hoped for but the crust did cause me to think it was still in the top 40 pies I’ve ever eaten.<\/p>\n The next pie I had from Il Portatico in Venosa, Basilicata. I was in Venosa on Monday, Nov. 9th — yes, pizza two nights in a row! I actually did not plan pizza that night but when I found Il Portatico I had to give it a try. I was on a walk around town after my ride from Matera and peeked into a small door that had a Vera Pizza Napoletena <\/em>sign . The door was unlocked, so I went in (how could I not?). I was met by Marcito, who was eating an ice cream and firing the forno<\/em>. I had a strong suspicion that he was both the pizzaiolo and the owner. I looked at the menu and he was very polite and stated he’d be open at 7:30. “Va bene,” I stated, and continued my walk. The menu looked good and the price right for my budget. Pizza, by the way, is one of the cheapest meals you can get in Italy.<\/p>\n I returned at 7:30 sharp and had a seat. The place was tiny, four tables total. Half of the pizzeria was taken up by the pizzaiolo station and the oven. Simple, just like Neapolitan pizza. The anticipation was building. I ordered the Mister.<\/em> I was hungry and it sounded awesome– tomato (pureed), Mozzarella di Bufalo, pomodori <\/em>(sliced tomato), arugula, prosciutto crudo<\/em>, and grana padano<\/em>. Wow!<\/p>\n While waiting, I chatted with Marcito. Indeed, it was his place and he was the sole pizzaiolo. I got some photos of the oven and we chatted pizza and I told him of my own time with the peel.<\/p>\n The pie came out and the toppings looked phenomenal; all I could hope for. However, before the pie even arrived at the table I knew the crust would not live up to my hopes. It had very little loft in the crust; it was stiff and not at all tender; the underskirt had no char. But the toppings were some of the best I have had in Italy. For a moment I thought, maybe it was too many toppings preventing a good crust, but a quick glance around at the other pies being enjoyed confirmed that it was the dough itself, not the heavy toppings. So, I was sitting there thinking that I want Oi Mari crust and Il Portatico toppings. That might have made for the best pie ever. However, I did manage to eat the whole pizza and was wanting more, so please don’t think I am complaining.<\/p>\n So, there you have it. Two examples of great pizza and how the subtleties and balance of the individual elements of a simple thing can really stand out even when one part isn’t working as well as the other. Have any of you ever had a similar experience? I’d love to hear your thoughts on the subject.<\/p>\n \u00a0<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"