We were trying to give justice to the 12 inches of cheese before us one Saturday afternoon after having a field day around Cebu, but apparently Elizabeth Gilbert had better words:
[…] before I left Rome he gave me the name of a pizzeria in Naples that I had to try, because, Giovanni informed me, it sold the best pizza in Naples. I found this a wildly exciting
prospect, given that the best pizza in Italy is from Naples, and the best pizza in the world is
from Italy, which means that this pizzeria must offer . . . I’m almost too superstitious to say it… the best pizza in the world? […]
So Sofie and I have come to Pizzeria da Michele, and these pies we have just ordered—one for each of us—are making us lose our minds. I love my pizza so much, in fact, that I have come to believe in my delirium that my pizza might actually love me, in return. I am having a relationship with this pizza, almost an affair. Meanwhile, Sofie is practically in tears over hers, she’s having a metaphysical crisis about it, she’s begging me, “Why do they even bother trying to make pizza in Stockholm? Why do we even bother eating food at all in Stockholm?”
Pizzeria da Michele is a small place with only two rooms and one nonstop oven. […] There’s not a menu. They have only two varieties of pizza here—regular and extra cheese. None of this new age southern California olives-and-sun-dried-tomato wannabe pizza twaddle. The dough, it takes me half my meal to figure out, tastes more like Indian nan than like any pizza dough I ever tried. It’s soft and chewy and yielding, but incredibly thin. I always thought we only had two choices in our lives when it came to pizza crust—thin and crispy, or thick and doughy. How was I to have known there could be a crust in this world that was thin and doughy? Holy of holies!
Thin, doughy, strong, gummy, yummy, chewy, salty pizza paradise. On top, there is a sweet tomato sauce that foams up all bubbly and creamy when it melts the fresh buffalo mozzarella, and the one sprig of basil in the middle of the whole deal somehow infuses the entire pizza with herbal radiance, much the same way one shimmering movie star in the middle of a party brings a contact high of glamour to everyone around her. It’s technically impossible to eat this thing, of course. You try to take a bite off your slice and the gummy crust folds, and the hot cheese runs away like topsoil in a landslide, makes a mess of you and your surroundings, but just deal with it. ~ Eat Pray Love
Unfortunately we weren’t in Naples (or in any other country for that matter). We were somewhere along Gorordo Avenue in Cebu City in what looks like an old house outfitted to be a pizzeria, with really cozy interiors as well as an al fresco dining area.
It considers itself having the best thin crust pizza in Cebu, and though we were unable to compare it with any other local pizzeria, it did go down in our books as one of the best we’ve had so far.
Another reason to troop to Gorordo for your high-calorie fix: Handuraw is also known for its below-zero beer. Pair that up with their best-selling pizza and that’s just about as good as any Neapolitan pizza experience you could get. Handuraw, after all, is Cebuano for the power to imagine.
Now we know you’re hungry.
Gorordo Avenue, Cebu City (near UP Cebu)
10 minutes by cab or jeepney
Pueblo Verde, Lapu-Lapu City, Mactan, Cebu
Corner J. Camus St., Quirino Ave., Davao City
2F Lexington Condominium, Xavierville Ave., Quezon City
3F Eastwood Cyber&Fashion Mall, Eastwood City, Quezon City
Unit 3 #3270 Armstrong Ave., Pasay City
This is not a sponsored post.
Wanna know more about our Cebu food picks? Click here!