Someone came up with the idea that we needed Roman-style pizza after our slightly life-changing visit to Il Tamburello. Have you noticed, gentle reader, that food is the last thing I should need at this point, and yet also the first thing on my mind? By which I mean, who’s to say no?
There are far fewer Roman places than Napoli places in Tokyo. The fact that you can distinguish at all, let alone choose from such a long list, is something extraordinary, but there it is. Bernini gets kinda low scores, but reviews say the pizza is the only good thing. Plus the place we really wanted to hit was closed on Sundays. Off we went, by bike as usual.
The reviews may be right. We forgo-ed the set lunch menus because of the reviews and also the generally lacking appearance of the pastas on others’ tables (and all the tables were full, so consider reserving, even for lunch on a Sunday). While waiting for the pizzas we got the bruschetta to start. There’s probably some poetry about being happy with a crust of bread and thou, but this was a silly excuse for restaurant food. No effort.
Pizza’s good though, yes yes. The crust is more crisp, that’s the roman thing. But I liked the copious toppings, especially the really delicious sausage (not on this pizza, on the one below). And anyway, it’s fresh and hot and quite well-made.
Someone’s been complaining that she’s not featured in pictures. No time like the present to start. Not a bad view across a pizza, I think.
Meanwhile the other pizza arrived and got cold, so I had to go all Scott Summers to reheat it.