Sunday, 28 February 2016
Vesuvio
World's Best Pizza
The fundamental trouble with the best pizza in the world is that it's a pizza. It may well be really good but it still remains an unfinished sandwich that gives you gooey fingers. It's something that you don't actually need. Kinda like the world's best thistle.
Anyway L'Antica Pizzeria da Michele is somewhere that I've wanted to go for ages, ever since reading the Eat bit of Eat Pray Love (I didn't finish either of the other sections, which probably says something about me). I couldn't comprehend how a seemingly intelligent person could get so excited about a Margarita pizza, so figured that I had to try it. Now that I've tried it, I can't comprehend how a seemingly intelligent person can get so excited about a Margarita pizza. Don't get me wrong, as Margarita pizza's go it was enjoyable but it was bland ingredients on bread. For my money the best pizza I've had came from Grafitti in Manchester, although an honorable mention goes to the Fridge Special that Des made for me once.
The Da Michele experience is probably worth a look. It takes a minimal menu and presents it super slickly. There was a queue; we were Number 78; they were on Number 56 (or at least I think they were - I'm not great wih Italian numbers); but still we were inside inside fifteen minutes. We shared a table with a young Neapolitan couple (who re-confirmed it was the best pizza in the city) and were given the choice of beer or water, either way served in a plastic cup. The biggest surprise of the whole affair was how ridiculously cheap the whole thing was. I'm fairly sure that if most people had a reputation as the best pizza in the world, they would add some Euros to the bill. At Da Michele it was just for the love of the dough. And maybe that's what makes it special.
Sunday, 7 February 2016
Now That's More Like It
And one Saturday in London is sufficient to shake it all back up again. So here are some things that were good:
Champagne Life at the Saatchi
I've been to a few shows since the Saatchi went to Chelsea but none of them have been this abuzz. Maybe this feminism thing is catching on. Or maybe that's entirely incidental and it's just that the art is shiny. Day-glo peasants, clay cows, horses stuck on beachballs: what's not to like. Consequently Generation Selfie were having a field day - I doubt and exhibition has ever been so photographed. Maybe that's what's not to like...
Viktor Wynd's Little Shop of Horrors
I fear I might be a bit late to the party with this one, but I only recently found out about this Curiosity Museum on Mare Street. It was suitably curious. I particularly liked Tessa Farmer's fairies running wild throughout the cabinets, like tiny treats for the careful observers.
Belter for The Shelter
Now far be it for me to do down a charity gig - and my personal issue was more to do with rail replacement than anything else - but this could have really done with a couple less comedians. But what a phenomenal line up of people that it's hard to get tickets for. Daniel Kitson - you are very funny, why don't you tour more?
Wednesday, 3 February 2016
Must Try Harder
Now I don't really like pulling apart things that people have put their heart and soul into - I always think it looks a little bit too much like jealousy but there comes a point where the underwhelming just gets a bit overwhelming. You want examples...
wonder.land
Oh Damon Albarn, what have you done? You've written so many good songs. Why didn't you put any of them in your musical? I was pretty excited, especially when I got there and the Olivier atrium was awash with shiny interactive gubbins. Turns out, watching a virtual reality cat whilst sitting on the toilet doth not an entertaining evening make.
A Winter's Tale
Just because you've been dead 400 years doesn't mean I'm not ripping you apart too. This was the biggest named Shakespeare play that I hadn't seen. It's just Pericles, only with all the plot rushed through in one exposition scene at the end, so that the first hour of the play can be padded out with very boring filler.
Our Endless Numbered Days
I appreciate that I'm a year off the pace with this one. But then I'm not certain that it was the book's fault that I didn't like it. It was the review, and that sits fairly with you 2016. The review compared it to Station Eleven. I bloomin' loved Station Eleven - it was a quirky, multi-charactered, world-straddling, post-apocalyptic riot. If the review had said "adequate coming-of-age story in a forest" I wouldn't have read it and I wouldn't have been underwhelmed. So come on 2016, sort it out.