and then there was pizza...real neapolitan pizza

That's her, in all her glory.

A big reason The only reason we went to Naples was because it's where pizza was invented and my husband and I really freaking like pizza. I grew up with some pretty delicious pizza in western Massachusetts and we would frequent American Flatbread (wood-fired pizza) weekly when we lived in Burlington, Vermont. The real prize however, was when we moved to New Jersey and bought a home two miles down the road from Ciao Bella in Highlands - aka the best pizza on earth. Unfortunately, it closed and has not reopened, which makes it hard to write this without shedding a tear or two. However, we must wipe our tears aside and bask in the fact that we are both probably ten pounds lighter than we would be if it were still in existence. (RIP Ciao Babies - we miss you and think about you each and every day.) 

We took our "where to find the best pizza advice" in Naples from the master of food and travel - Anthony Bourdain. He suggested a pizzeria a few blocks from the train station, which worked out well for lunch and what would be our last experience in that crazy city. Although we had a number of sacred epiphanies and holy connections in the religious establishments we visited throughout our Italian adventure, we must not discredit the divine miracle of the "verace pizza napoletana" or original neapolitan pizza at Pizzeria Pellone. Amen! It was heavenly. My usual complaint with pizza is the crust or lack there of, but this was just perfect. It is customary to eat an entire pizza yourself, and enjoy it with a fork and knife. As I mentioned in the last post, I wish my stomach had expanded by this leg of the trip because I had some major trouble fitting it all in. I was sure there would be other people in the restaurant that were in the same boat, but everyone ordered their own AND finished it all. Our waiter came over and shook his head at me, but I could not fit it - I was stuffed with some of the best pizza I have and will ever eat. The sauce, the cheese, the basil, the crust - everything was award-winning and utter perfection. We felt a little ridiculous taking photos of it, but as more and more people filled up the seats and were delivered their pizzas, we realized it was pretty common. We even saw a group of men snapping away who all had to be at least seventy. An actual agency exists, complete with rules one must follow, in order to call your pizza "true neapolitan". Whatever the agency is doing is working. More pizza should be made like that, it should just be more acceptable to share it with a friend.