Planes, Trains and Automobiles

Pizzeria da Michele, Naples. This restaurant is now famous among travel enthusiasts and foodies alike, due to the fact that Julia Roberts pays it a visit in the 2010 film Eat Pray Love.

When my travel companion and I arrived at the pizzeria, we knew that we had the right place. People were congregating outside, eagerly waiting their turn to sample the pizza, while the rich scent of tomato and basil wafted out to tempt us. We took a ticket from the machine outside the restaurant, and listened out for our number, wary that we would miss it due to our rusty Italian. The pizzeria was tiny, plainly decorated, and bustling with energy. Every seat must be filled in this place, so we were sat at a table of four with an Italian gentleman and his daughter. We learned that they spoke as little English as we did Italian, and had to make conversation by way of gesturing and holding up images on our phones. At one point, the daughter showed us a picture of a baby, and said “Royal baby… have you seen it?”. Prince George had been born a few weeks before, and she was assuming that being English, we would naturally have had a chance to meet and interact with the future King of our country.

There are only two options on the menu in this place - the classic margherita, or an even simpler marinara, which comes without cheese. They come in two sizes, which should probably be called “large” and “even larger”, and cost about 5 euros each. That and a glass of lemonade, and you’ve got yourself a pretty hefty meal for very little money. Pizza in Italy is better than anywhere else in the world, but Naples, the true birthplace of pizza, is in a league of its own. The base was soft and doughy, to the point that it had an almost similar consistency to the sweet, tangy tomato sauce smothered all over it. The crust of the pizza was chewy and tasted as though every pizza that had been made in the oven before it had left a bit of its essence behind.

At the end of the meal, our dining companions got up to leave. As they did so, the gentleman handed over some cash to the waiter and then tapped me on the shoulder. He made a gesture with his hands as if to say “it’s covered”, and when I looked at his daughter for clarification, she smiled and nodded. “Tutti”, she said with another smile, and they left. I always remember the generosity of those strangers, with whom we could barely communicate, but who wanted to share their culture with us, and leave us with full bellies and a fond memory.