New York Pizza vs. Italian Pizza

This article may — or may not — start the next World War. However, the question needs to be asked: New York pizza or Italian pizza.

I’ve had both and let me tell you, this is a tough one to determine.

I spent a week in New York, and every day, I had pizza in various locations. I also spent more than a week in Italy and had pizza damn near every day. By the end, I was f*cking sick of this slice of pie on the one hand, but on the other, I kept going with hopes that one piece would topple the next.

Now that I am back home on the Panhandle of Florida -where there is no such thing as “good pizza” — I am left debating: Who is the winner? New York or Italy?

I feel a little bit like an instigator asking such a question. Also — sorry, Florida — but you suck at pizza. Seafood, you’re pretty good. Oysters, phenomenal. Cajun, not bad. Pizza…You suck. #changemymind

I have had pizza in the heart of the Big Apple and in pizza’s birthplace: Naples. Both places and I have had a fantastic experience consuming their version of pies. However, who is the winner?

Let start by weighing both sides.

New York Pizza

There is nothing like a New York pizza. I’ll never forget the day that I stepped off of the Amtrak from Williamsburg, Virginia, to the heart of Manhattan, New York. The first place I went to? A restaurant to grab a slice.

The place that my husband and I decided to snag an authentic piece of New York Pizza was NY Pizza Suprema.

This was not intended, but the late legendary food critic Anthony Bourdain also visited this pizza shop. Let me tell you, it did not disappoint.

There, my husband and I walked up to the counter. He ordered whatever he wanted, and I placed my order for the first slice of pie that spoke to me: A melting portion of Hot Honey.

Next, we jumped into the first available vacant booth. (Here, we quickly learned the true meaning of “First come, first served” while in New York.)

Placing the flimsy paper napkin on my lap, I watched the slice brought to my table. Gently bringing the edges of the gooey pizza to my lips, the heat pulsated through my fingertips as the aroma of ricotta snaked its way through my olfactory. Before I knew it, saliva flooded my tongue in anticipation of the first bite.

Like an addict getting a fix, I felt pure euphoria pulsating through my veins at the first morsel. My inside voice screamed, Holy sh*t, the Ninja Turtles were right. New York pizza is phenomenal!

Could this sensation ever be topped?

Italian Pizza

Little did I know, a few years later, I would find myself in the birthplace of pizza: Italy. 🇮🇹

Pizza has a long and fascinating history with the Egyptians, Romans, and Greeks.

While in Italy, I walked the pizza path visiting one of the oldest pizza ovens in existence in Pompeii, to having a bite of pie on the Spanish Steps of Rome.

Momma Mia!

I thought my experience with pizza could not get any better.

Oh boy, was I wrong!

Italy taught me many vital things, from loving that I am redhead to discovering a new appreciation for pasta. Somewhere in between, an affinity for pizza emerged.

Thanks to Italy, I will only allow homemade pizza in this house. No premade boxed-preservative-bullsh*t in my freezer. I make a batch of dough and freeze individual portions. After thawing, I use fresh ingredients and toss them into the oven.

You might be thinking making your own pizza dough is a lot of work, but you may be surprised how easy it is.

There’s no such thing as sharing a pizza in Italy. If you do, you might as well place a great big sign next to you in flashing neon letters “Hi! I’m a foreigner!”

In Italy, you get your own. Period. As a PHAT girl who loves food, I respect this rule.

Who is the winner?

*drumroll please*…the Italians. *Gasp*

Before you burn me at stake, please let me point out two critical key factors in how I came to such a conclusion.

• The value placed on the pizza.
• There is no doubt: Italy and New York have placed a significant value on pizzas. However, when it comes to culture, Italy has a stricter rule. As a reminder, Italians do not share pizzas. Even children get their own pizza. Don’t get me wrong. I’ve met some New Yorkers who’d shank you over a piece of the pie. However — as a culture — Italians win when appreciating the pie.
• Respect your pizza-elders
• As mentioned previously, pizza dates back to the Egyptians, Romans, and Greeks. Honestly, how can you compete with that?

It’s a very tough decision to make choosing a winner. Otherwise, I’d say that it’s too close to call. But, I’m sticking to my well-endowed pizza-gut: Italy has the advantage.

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This article was originally published on Medium and CrystalsWritingRoom.