As much as anything, I write to occupy my mind. Often in the evenings. At a time when the only logical alternative would be to scroll endlessly through various social media apps, until the point where I am sufficiently entertained… or incredibly stressed. There is no better feeling than having an idea for an article in your head and letting your imagination take hold. Although, I do often wish the idea could just live in your head, it never translates quite as well on paper…
This evening, my worlds are colliding because my social media apps are awash with people talking about Crisp pizzas (and they have been for some time) and I am writing a review of it having recently made the trip to Hammersmith. You simply cannot avoid the hype. I am not sure what the secret is to creating a viral restaurant, or whether you’d wish that term on any restaurant but Crisp has most certainly got it, whether they like it or not. Whilst I tend to avoid places described as “banging” and “instagrammable”, I was invited by a friend who swore this to be the best pizza he has ever had, and I value his opinion.
I think it's important to give you a bit of my own personal, pizza-related context. That way you can decide whether you value my opinion or not. If you don’t count my 10th birthday party at Pizza Hut. It all started, unashamedly, at Pizza Express (bear with me..). I have come to learn that it’s most likely the nostalgia, familiarity and comfort that keeps me interested these days, rather than the food. That smell when you walk in evokes so many happy childhood memories. One of which was designing and coloring in my own restaurant whilst demolishing dough balls. I’m certainly not expecting to taste the best slice I've ever eaten at Pizza Express. I just want affordable, consistent, quick pizza and a peroni.
Then came sourdough. You know when people say “I’ll never forget where I was when… *insert major life event* happened“. I consider the change in winds on the pizza scene in London as a pretty major life event. Whilst there was no real specific event that crowned the start of the sourdough invasion, I witnessed the takeover first hand. In my twenties, living in London and eating out more than I ever have or could afford now. In came the likes of Franco manca, Pizza Pilgrims and Yard-sale pizza. Overnight we went from having a choice of two or three high street pizzas or Italian independents to countless crust cracking sourdough options. From this point on my horizons were broadened and the bar was raised. I’ve been dutifully on the hunt for the best slice ever since (including planning my honeymoon conveniently around a 3 day trip in New York to sample slices!)
Which brings us nicely onto Crisp Pizza.
Whoever had the idea of putting fresh, cold burrata on top of a pizza is mad. Genius, but mad. Imagine having the balls to suggest that, “ oh I know what this piece of bread with tomatoes and cheese could do with… more cheese!” Maybe it was discovered by accident one day. Some overworked line chef at dominoes, mistaking a cooked pizza for an uncooked one and whacking down more mozzarella. Whoever's idea it was, it’s brilliant (so long as we ignore the health implications) and the Vetna pizza at Crisp, is shamelessly covered in the stuff. The creamy addition of the fresh burrata balances the hot honey and blistered pepperoni fantastically. The thin, crisp base was more than capable of bearing the weight of the rich, tomato sauce and I’m now beginning to buy into the hype. The pizza is amazing, it really is. But there's other things at play here that help the hype. Like having to text in to order your dough in advance. For all of us non-drug addicts, I assume this is what it would feel like. The rush of dopamine knowing you’ve got two bags (dough, in this case) set aside for you to pick up from your local pub kitchen. That’s another thing. It's in a pub, in Hammersmith. Set back from the high st, on a corner plot, in a residential street. The most unlikely place to find London's hottest pizza.
There is something wonderfully authentic about the whole set up. Chefs, covered in flour, running pizza boxes out to customers sat on the curb. DMing for your dough. It’s got sort of an amateur feel about it, but it works and if anything just emphasises the focus put into the pizzas, which are anything but amateur. It’s clear that owner Carl McClusky has put in the hours to become a master pizza maker. What seems like an overnight success to a lot of us, will probably feel like a right old slog to him, but I hope he thinks it’s worth it, because I certainly do!
