In the beginning, the perfect ones can be counted on the fingers of one hand, and then all of a sudden BUM, they come out so many that you find yourself doing a blog. Nothing wrong, you can only be happy, but then you find yourself faced with even stranger facts. Like for example, in a particular area of London, namely Streatham, someone decides not to open one, but two Neapolitan pizzerias at the same time. This is what happened with the Azzurri pizzeria, which already has two locations: one in Streatham Hill, the other in Streatham Vale. In this post, I review the Streatham Hill office.
The menu of the pizzeria Azzurri is undoubtedly not one of those that do not grant you freedom of choice. From a sample of twenty pizzas, my girlfriend chooses the Neapolitan, which for this pizzeria is sausage and broccoli. I, as always, know before I enter what I want: a beautiful Bufalina. Which, however, is not on the menu. Do not panic: even before I finish speaking, the waitress already nods when I ask her if it is possible to exchange the mozzarella fiordilatte. I specify that I don’t want it as an extra topping and that I want it in cooking (lately I realized that it’s better not to take it for granted).
The pizzas arrive. The cornice recites its Neapolitan character in large letters: it is swollen and presumptuous. My girlfriend’s pizza is visually more attractive, pretty round, chubby, and spotted. Mine has imperfections, with bubbles and spikes burned to one side. But at the same time, the aesthetics of the cornice is graced by pleasant air-filled chambers.
But what I don’t like about my pizza is the way they treated the Bufala mozzarella: small slices with reduced diameter counted in number five, which didn’t melt properly and are now there, undecided about what to do. A sorrowful sight, like castaways, abandoned in a sea of salsa. A sea that, unfortunately, I have to say, is characterized by shallow water: there is not so much gravy in which to swim.
But let’s taste. The dough is cooked perfectly, and there is nothing to say. The cornice is a little too rubbery at the points where it is most swollen, a characteristic that I found above all in my girlfriend’s pizza. Not challenging to chew or swallow, but I would have preferred some less jaw movement. As for the pizza base, we are on the right level of slices.
I have doubts about flavor. The sauce is good, but not exciting, while the Bufala mozzarella doesn’t feel right. From this point of view, my girlfriend’s Neapolitan works much better: in this case, it is the fiordilatte and the friarielli that lord it, while the sausage stands apart.
I would have tasted another pizza more out of curiosity than desire. However, the meal was able to satisfy our stomachs without weighing us down. We then decided to opt for a middle ground, and choose a Nutella pizza as a dessert. In this case, the pizza maker has exaggerated with the size of the cornice: the amount of space left on the disk of pasta is minimal for a generous spread of Nutella. The mythical cream is, unfortunately, a mere appearance in a setting in which the real protagonist is the bully from before. Sin.
We leave, however, satisfied: it will not be one of the best pizzerias in London we have been to, but both we and our stomach have had a pleasant evening and promoted with good grades.
The design of the environment is beautiful, even recognizable from the outside at a hundred meters. Already walking on the road, I immediately understand which, among the many facades, is that of the pizzeria even before reading its name: the typical white of many of these environments immediately signals its presence to me. An elegant and luminous white that dominates the interior, accompanied by the simplicity of tables and chairs. The wood-fired oven in the background is also lovely, with tiles that cover it like a roof, as if to make it invisible.
The menu has more than twenty pizzas, all very simple and with immediately recognizable ingredients. Unfortunately, on the finish, there are also a couple of pizzas that seem put there to satisfy the tastes of the British, with ingredients such as chicken and meatballs. But this does not make this pizzeria less Neapolitan.
If only for the all-Naples exuberance of the waiter who served us and entertained us to talk all evening. Between one course and another, he launched himself into much more than a chat from the well-marked dialect, making me feel very much at home (among other things, it was also of my parts). But even the English maid who greeted us and took our orders served us all evening with a huge smile. The service was friendly and fast in every way.
The prices of the pizzeria Azzurri are currently the lowest you can find in all of London. But when I say bass, I mean little to unthinkable levels for a city like this: my Margherita has cost me only £ 4.99. And, yes, I told Margherita, because it was considered to me as a price list, and the addition of Bufala mozzarella didn’t appear on the bill. I don’t know if it was a mistake, or if there is no extra charge for extra topping: on the other hand, the addition of condiments is not even contemplated on the menu.
Even my girlfriend’s Neapolitan has cost only £ 5.99, a price that covers most pizzas, including Calzone. No pizza reaches unacceptable rates: the maximum you can pay is £ 9.50. The Nutella pizza cost us £ 3.95, which seems like the standard price of each dessert. At the time of writing, considering the current pound-euro exchange rate, this is the only pizzeria that reports prices almost in line with those of Naples (although not with the same quality ratio).