Tolga
Google
Naples is a city where even the humblest pizzeria can deliver a slice of heaven. Sadly, this establishment proved the exception to that rule. What should have been a celebration of Neapolitan tradition unraveled into the most disappointing dining experience of our week.
The ordeal began with a 20-minute wait outside, tolerable enough, but once seated we languished for another half-hour before a server even approached to take our order. Fifteen more minutes passed before the food arrived, by which point our appetite had given way to frustration.
And then came the real letdown: the Margherita. In the birthplace of this iconic dish, one expects a delicate balance of molten mozzarella, fragrant tomato, and airy crust. Instead, what arrived was a pale imitation—the cheese congealed and rubbery, resisting the very idea of melting. It was a joyless rendition, unworthy of the Neapolitan name.
The fried pizza fared no better. Advertised as being filled with prosciutto or salame, it instead harbored a muddled, offal-like filling that felt both deceptive and unpalatable. In a city where authenticity is sacred, this was a culinary betrayal. And for a restaurant as renowned, plastic glasses were something I have never seen before.
In Naples, mediocrity is rare—but when it appears, it is glaring. This restaurant, regrettably, offered the lowest note in an otherwise harmonious symphony of flavors across the city.
