Timothy C.
Google
Pasquale's was the sixth and final spot on today's fourth leg of the RI FOOD FIGHTS Lord of the Pies event, and the place was humming. Families everywhere, noise bouncing off those decorative ceiling tiles (the kind designed to look old but aren't). A big stone fireplace anchors one wall, giant decorative pepper mounted above it, and through the open kitchen you can see the wood-fired oven doing its work..
Our server was excellent. Friendly, very communicative, knew the menu inside out, and checked in without hovering. We ordered two Margherita pizzas because that's the test for Neapolitan. No place to hide.
The pizza arrived in what felt like a few minutes, which makes sense when your oven's running at 900 degrees. Classic VPN style. Puffy cornicione with those leopard spots, soft center, the whole thing about twelve inches across on a white plate with blue trim.
First bite: chewy. Not crisp, not trying to be. The crust has give to it, especially toward that rim where all the char happens. Those black spots aren't burnt, they're flavor, the natural result of high heat on good dough. The basil came through strong, maybe too forward for some people, but fresh as you can get. Tomato sauce had real tang to it, the kind that tells you these aren't tomatoes from a Sysco truck. Turns out owner Pasquale Illiano sources specific varieties, including something called cannellino flegreo that most American pizzerias have never heard of.
The fresh mozzarella isn't creamy like American cheese. It's mild, provides moisture, cuts the tomato acidity in the right places without taking over. This is what Neapolitan pizza is supposed to be. Simple ingredients, each one doing its job, nothing trying to be the star.
I'm not generally a Neapolitan guy. I like my crust airier, crisper, more structure. But this was legitimately excellent for what it's trying to be. The sauce was the standout, that brightness and tang you don't get from cooked-down Americanized pizza sauce. The chewy crust delivers exactly what it promises. Nothing's trying to be something else.
Our server knew when to check in, when to leave us alone, brought the check when it made sense. The whole operation runs tight, which matters when you're slammed on a Tuesday and pumping out pizzas every ninety seconds.
This isn't the kind of pizza you fold and eat standing up. It's fork and knife stuff. It's its own thing, and it does that thing really well. If you want authentic Neapolitan without flying to Italy, this is as close as you're going to get.
