Tired or Laudable?

In which I finish off my dive into the most vintage pizzerias in Buenos Aires.

A third day, a third post, and roughly a third of the pizzerias that ended up on my list, which started out from a list in local newspaper La Nación. A total of fourteen historic pizzerias in town. Honestly, I was surprised to discover that I’ve been to all of them, and most of them repeatedly, over the years. It says something for their staying power. It also says something about my slow march to an appreciation for Argentine style pizza, despite its noticeable and notable differences from either classic Italian styles, or the American styles I grew up on (mostly “Midwest generic” and Detroit or Chicago styles, being from that part of the country). If you missed the previous posts - Round 1 and Round 2.

1939 - La Mezzetta, Av. Álvarez Thomas 1321, Villa Ortuzar

I’ve heard recommendations for this place “to really understand Argentine pizza”, almost always from locals, which is usually a bit of a warning flag. Not that they don’t have good taste, but there’s almost always this sort of heart-strings, nostalgia, it’s the place we went to every week when I was a kid and I remember it as the best. We all have those place from when we grew up. So we approached this one with a little trepidation. On arrival, we found a small pizzeria with cars, taxis, motorcycles, and trucks parked haphazardly on the street in front, and inside, jam packed with people, half of them spread out around the small counters lining the walls, rapidly gobbling down slices of pizza, fainá, and empanadas, and washing it down with glasses or bottles of seltzer water. The other half were lined up in a snaking queue to the cash register. We got in line, it moves fast – despite their being about twenty people in front of us, it took no more than about five minutes. You order, you pay, you get a slip of paper, the guy next to the cashier hands you your drink (almost everyone gets seltzer, with a smattering of sodas and beers), and then you move down the counter to pick up your food – hand over your ticket and tell them to go or to stay, and in seconds it’s in your hands. I have to admit, if there’s a place that could be the the poster boy for Argentine style pizza, this has got to be it. Thick crust, the merest blush of sauce seemingly just brushed on it, and gobs and gobs of cheese. We’ve seen it too many times.

But you know what, they do it right at La Mezzetta – the crust is smoky, charred, and has a good crunch, the cheese is gooey, and while it could use a little more browning, it’s tasty, and the sauce adds just an elusive hint of tomato to it all. An anchovy slice was quite good – the tomato sauce really shines when there’s enough of it, and it’s not masked under gobs of cheese. On the other hand, the fugazzeta rellena was an oily yawn. First, they do a double crust pizza and sandwich an extra layer of cheese between the two crusts – plus the usual quantity on top – it was just way too much dough and oily cheese. And, the onions weren’t caramelized, they were borderline raw, and fairly scarce at that – it was almost like they’d just scattered a small handful on top of the parbaked pie (they precook all their pizzas as plain cheese ones on prebaked dough, and then add toppings to order), and just warmed it up. The last, which they’re famed for, disappointing.

1942 - Kentucky, Av. Santa Fé 4602, Palermo

One of the most ubiquitous chains in Buenos Aires, with over five dozen locations in the city, a few in the greater metropolitan area, one up in the city of Tucumán, and three in neighboring Uruguay. Now, Kentucky, the US state, isn’t exactly noted for its pizzas or pizza style. The apocryphal story I was told is that way back at the beginning of the 1940s, the trio of friends who opened the original location had traveled to the US, attended the Kentucky Derby, won a boatload of money, and used it to open their first pizzeria. A bit more digging, however, says that it was the horse races at the local Hipódromo, the racetrack in Palermo, where they ran an annual race modeled on the Kentucky Derby and the grand prize was called El Kentucky. That seems a more likely origin story. One way or another, it’s been a hell of a success story.

Unfortunately, I wasn’t all that enamored of it, and I have to admit, enough so that I’ve never actually given them another chance: Kentucky serves up pizza al molde, or deep-dish pizza, and goes beyond the usual combinations to have a few that are a bit more inventive – not too far, but beyond. The crust, very bread-like, and a bit over-cooked as far as I’m concerned, though tasty. The toppings, plentiful. I know in the photo, the one on the right looks like it’s oozing goopy mozzarella, but it’s actually not – instead it’s oozing bechamel sauce. The cheese is used quite sparingly on both slices (they offer most of their combinations by the slice as well as whole pies, a nice plus). The one on the right was a pizza bianca of sorts, a bit too much of the bechamel and very little spinach (probably from a bag of frozen, pre-chopped); the one on the left, the house special, the Kentucky, topped with an odd assortment of mushrooms (canned, very disappointing), hearts of palm and roasted peppers (the same) and ham (supermarket lunch slices quality). Overall, pretty disappointing – everything lacking seasoning, and the quality of the ingredients mediocre at best – and quite unusual, because one thing I do like about most porteño pizza places is the freshness and quality of the toppings (other than the mozzarella problem previously discussed), and here, that’s not the case. Give this one a pass.

1947 - El Imperio de la Pizza, Corrientes 6891, Chacarita

Location, location, location. We’ve all heard the adage for business success. And it would be hard to have a better location for an iconic pizzeria than smack dab in front of one of the busiest bus and train terminals in the city. Not to mention the city’s biggest, if not most famous, cemeteries across the street. Neighborhood resident José Carmarés decided to open his pizzeria in this prime location and focus solely on pizzas al molde, deep dish style. The place looks like a cafeteria, with lots of standing room and that fun porteño custom of grabbing a slice or two and standing at any square inch of available space to eat. I’d rather sit down to enjoy my lunch, so I grabbed a table in the seating area. The first thing I noted was the wind. Not really wind, but above the seating area, there’s a bank of a dozen ceiling fans running at high speed, and there are things blowing around the room – mostly napkins and other bits of paper, but some of it is detritus left from dining – the second thing I noticed is that the waiters’ method of cleaning tables was simply to brush everything onto the floor with a damp cloth and leave it there – so there are bits of pizza and other things all over the ground.

I’ve been twice. First visit: I will hands down give them that it’s got to be about the thickest pizza I’ve ever encountered. It’s certainly over an inch in height, probably about an inch and a quarter. About half of that is dough – puffy and white on the inside, nicely browned on the bottom. The other half is a huge pile of toppings – easily the most “topped” pizza I’ve run into here in Buenos Aires. I wouldn’t, however, say that it’s the best pizza I’ve had here, not by a long shot. It’s okay. The crust and sauce are a bit on the bland side. The toppings are fine – I mean it’s sliced ham, green olives (with pits, I hate that you know), anchovies that are just fine. The hard-boiled egg is, well, grated hard-boiled egg, and a whole lot of it, perhaps a bit too much in relation to the other toppings. The tomatoes, mealy – this isn’t their season, but these were really mealy. The red peppers would have been great if they’d been roasted or something, instead they seemed sort of watery, as if they’d been pulled out of a can – which they may very well have been. It’s hard to believe that a pizza topped with all those ingredients would need salt, but it did, desperately. As I said, it was okay, it just wasn’t great.

And second visit: Over a decade ago I tried this place as one of the recommended “bests” of Argentine style pizzas. It’s worth going back and reading my old review, as the whole style of pizza was new to me at the time, and my thoughts and feelings about it have changed. Stopped in with a couple of friends in the midst of visiting a couple of craft breweries in the area just to recharge. We ordered a large pie to share, along with some fainá, and a fugazzeta rellena. Both of those were good, though I’d give more props to the regular fugazzeta, which was half of the pie we ordered, just because the filled one had too much cheese. The primavera half was less interesting, with lunchmeat ham, and some canned bell peppers, and chopped hard boiled egg. It’s still, to my mind, just okay, though the fugazzeta raises that game a bit. I also like that for a half and half pizza, they really do just charge half the price of each type.

1947 - Santa María, Av. Corrientes 6801, Chacarita

I’m again surprised that La Nación would leave out as historic and well known pizzerias as this one. It’s physically on the same block as El Imperio, above, at the opposite corner. And it was opened at the same time, in competition, by a couple of Galician immigrants to BA, though I haven’t found their names in the various online sources. The setup is much the same - with both a dining area and a standing area for grabbing a slice.

I’ve only been once: More than one person who had recommended the place, in person or online, had sworn by the spinach and white sauce slice – and more than one has said, don’t bother with any of the slices with tomato sauce, so I didn’t. And, this is a decent spinach slice – it’s piled high with about a half inch deep layer of creamed spinach, and then topped with mozzarella and parmesan. Well seasoned, maybe a bit too much like a spinach tart rather than a pizza, but so be it, I’d eat it again. Still, not what I’d call a wow, and certainly not worth making the trip. A step up from El Imperio perhaps. The fugazzeta rellena, a bit too cheesy for my tastes, but a good quantity of onions and at least the surface ones lightly browned – though overall they could have used more browning, particularly for those underneath, which were just kind of warm.

1952 - Los Inmortales, Av. Corrientes 1369, San Nicolás

A small chain of five pizzerias, or, pizza cafés… I think the official name for these spots is Café Los Inmortales. Founded by Italian immigrant Felipe Fiorellino as an Italian style café, the original menu didn’t include pizzas. But business wasn’t all that great, and “soon”, according to historical reports, he asked his mother-in-law, Doña Rosa, who had been famous back in Italy for her pizzas, if she would partner up with him and offer them. They were a hit, and the business thrived. At the same time, while they’re well-known for their pizzas, their menu is significantly broader than that at all their locations, with a mix of Italian and Argentine dishes.

I’ve only visited the original location once, and have been to two of their others once each. One for pizza, one for not-pizza.

My original thoughts: The house classic, the pizza los inmortales is a gooey, delicious mix of plenty of herb covered mozzarella, crushed fresh tomatoes and garlic, roasted red pepper, anchovies, and whole olives (pitted again, yay!). Nothing wrong with that. It might even edge somewhere into the lower echelons of the top ten in town.

But a visit to their Recoleta branch was far less successful, with a crust that was so chewy it almost seemed stale. The biggest issue, really poor quality canned mushrooms, way too many of them, and egregiously marred by a pre-eating conversation with the waiter who assured me that they never use canned mushrooms for anything. As I said then: You lie like a canned mushroom.

And that, my friends, finishes off this little venture. Of course, who knows? I may just come across some older pizzerias than some of these. After all, La Nación missed three of them. I’m guessing both they, and I, missed more than that.