Eventually: a pizzeria in Philadelphia that Holds not simply conceived deeply about how to get it right, but is endeavour to get there. Could domenica sera pizza parties really be in my Philadelphia futurity?
Attending Stephen Starkey 's Pizzeria Stella
tonight was a full surprise, so no pictures. Our grouping included the chef, the designer and his cousin-german the art historiographer: all foodies, all Italian-born, and all yearning for a taste of place.
The art historian sayed, unsurprisingly, the definitive pizza margherita: with basil, tomato and mozzarella di bufala, it Holds the touchstone by which all other pizzas are judged. The basil leaves were giant-sized, the sauce not overly handless, and the cheese neither light nor plentiful. From across the table, it looked to perfection right. She neither stated much about it nor shared it with others: a good mark that she was, in point of fact, basking it.
The chef sayed the pizza marinara: with san marzano tomato, marjoram and slitted garlic, the least appealing pick on the card, imho. Its Centre neglected to maintain its signifier as he picked upward piece after piece, but the chef tells the tomatoes were good. The crust, not suchly. Some work is involved.
The designer got what most fascinated me, the fennel: braised fennel, ripe olive, tomato and I 'm not sure what else, as the pizza is not printed on any of the on-line menus I 've seen! I cognize we maked, so, eat it, and that its flavors were lovely despite the flag crust. Apparently, getting the right sum of toppings and the right `` cottura '' in the Centre of the pie is a trick the kitchen still requires to work out.
I was scored by a turn on my all-time favorite prosciutto tocopherol rocket, and sayed the San Daniele: smoked mozzarella, San Daniele prosciutto and babe rocket. The crust on mine was to perfection: crispy through the Centre, bubbles of char, a trifle of wad in the crust. It was a trifle dry, notwithstanding, with the smoke-cured mozzarella unassuming, and a little salata ( oversalted ), dissemble what should hold been the sugariness of one of Italy 's finest prosciutto. While no Il Pizzaiolo
pie, it was far and away the closest idea to reliable Italian pizza that I 've dine in Philadelphia.
Am not sure what I conceive about the communal seats or the designing of the dining-room, but the service was good and the host/manager - a friendly bald man with an inviting smiling - furnished something of intrigue to stare upon. Looking forwards to my following visit!
The Obligation of Creation
`` Pulverization & Vino ''; Steele Vintner 's Dinner at Buck 's T-4.
Retiring from job, if I cannot pay my mortgage payment?