It is common to want anything other than what you have. From a better looking boyfriend to a sexier stiletto, but in this case, I had everything I wanted in Serafina’s pizza. Perfection doesn’t usually exist in any form but I had found it; Rather, Serafina’s chef had found it. Each element was simply mastery beginning with the menu options.
The list of pizza combinations spanned the entire back of the menu—the interior full of antipastis and primi piattis. After settling on fresh arugulo e parmigiano as a starter, I went right for the pizza offerings, which even warrant inclusion in the branch name of the restaurant: Serafina Fabulous Pizza.
And fabulous pizza it was. It is pizza like this that reminds me that although good pizza exists, GREAT pizza is out there too. When you have pizza too often, sometimes the slices blend together and you start thinking all pizza is the same. It’s not. This pizza was not usual, it was extraordinary and it’s pizza like this that makes eating pizza, and writing about it worthwhile.
Let’s start with the production of the pizza, which impresses upon explanation. The restaurant uses a special filtration system in an attempt to mimic the water used in Naples, where pizza originated (God help me if/when I travel there… a new wardrobe of drawstring pants and baggy hooded sweatshirts will be needed). A specialty oven uses volcanic lava from Vesuvio, with a mixture of Sardinian sand and Sicilian sea salt in order to maintain a moisture-free, crisp dough.
The crust is thin, Italian style with the circumference spanning an entire personal-sized plate, though generous in size. It’s lightly charred on the bottom but it doesn’t overpower the flavor of the sauce or the cheese. The sauce is the freshest I’ve ever tasted. There’s a zest and tang to the tomato perfectly complimented by the basil leaves laid over top of the pie.
Now to the cheese—the best part. The mozzarella is made daily with fresh milk. I chose the Regina Margherita pie with imported Italian fior di latte mozzarella, tomato and fresh basil. As I took a bite, the cheese melted in my mouth and slid around my tongue. The texture reminded me more of a dollop of cream than a solidified cheese. Dreamworthy.
Pizza like this doesn’t make me particularly giving, but I insisted my mom try a slice, mostly because I needed someone to understand why the only words out of my mouth after my first bite related to how amazing this pizza was. “If we lived in this neighborhood we would have serious weight problems,” my mom said, in agreement that the pizza was heavenly. Anything else wasn’t granted mention until a fresh Italian ricotta cheesecake arrived, also deserving of an exemplary description.
Even a day later, I’m still talking, thinking and dreaming about this pizza’s perfected crust, sauce and cheese trifecta, and likely will be until I have it again.