"When the moon hits your eye like a big pizza pie, that's
amore" Dean Martin sang the well-known
Harry Warren tune, forever associating
pizza with love. In the same song he tells us that that connection
is particularly true in "Old Napoli," where pizza is a soul food,
treated with a reverence akin to a religious experience. In Naples
there is even an Associazione Vera Pizza Napoletana (Association for
Authentic Neapolitan Pizza) that certifies restaurants making real
Neapolitan pizza with a sign they can display in their windows like
the Good Housekeeping Seal of Approval.
Italians, and particularly Neapolitans, have good reason
to be serious about upholding particular standards for pizza, because
the food has become even more universal than hamburgers, and some
of its varieties bear very little resemblance to the real thing. Particularly
American concoctions like pizza with pineapple and ham, for example,
or pizza with chicken and walnuts, are to Italians what the designated
hitter is to baseball purists. They may taste all right, but don't
call them pizza. Italians also eschew the American tendency to pile
ingredient upon ingredient on pizza so that the resulting product
is a sampler of a half dozen or more meats and vegetables whose tastes
have nullified one another.
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