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« Hydrangeas on the Ile de Cite | Main | Artseen: Boris Achour »

May 25, 2009

Comments

John W.

Emily, cara,
Thanks for your well-written contribution. Actually, taglio means "slice" or "cut." You may have run into the French verb "tailler," which is a cognate--think of "tailor" in English, someone who cuts fabric. When you buy pizza in Italy "al taglio," it's what a New Yorker would call "by the slice." No weighing involved, as far as I've ever seen, unlike this Parisian place's practice.

Juana

This was one of the most enjoyable articles. I loved it because it was about food and her descriptions were concise yet detailed.

peter

If you insist on recommending your fav pizzeria, I must counter with
my own - in Paris. Mine is old-fashioned. Round pies, baked in a
wood-fired oven and smoothered with olive oil. It is a restaurant
where, obviously the wonevers are present nightly and all employees
(servers, at least) are, quite apparently, family members, if extended
famiglia. And they are from Napoli. What makes these folks (I do not
know their family name) so Frenchified (not "French fried"!) is their
collective grumpiness. They do not have that Italian joy (joie de
vivre), carefreeness nor general happiness so easily sensed everywhere
en Italia. Their demeanor is far more Parisian in this way. They seem
to care less about you as a client. So un-American and yet so, to me,
enchantingly ("enchantingly"?!) French. Abd their pizzas are the best
du monde as far as I am concerned. It may well be a classic,
well-known Paris eatery. In other words, I may not be revelaing
anything new here. It is Chez Bartolo, Pizzeria Napolitaine on the rue
des Canettes in the 6th, just off the rue du Four (and very near St.
Sulpice). I note that this very well could be a "known" restaurant
because a) it has flourished unchanged an iota since I was first
introduced to it 33 years ago, b) there is often a waiting line out
into the street (no reservations taken in advance) and c) the
clientele, by their looks, is marvelously eclectic, i.e. evening wear
from my holely (as opposed to "holy," god forbid!) blue jeans to zee
most chic threads imaginable (to MY imagination anyway). I learned
from Chez Bartolo, where I have never been gastronomically displeased,
that the two absolutely most fundamental and necessary ingredients of
a real Italian pizza is 1) olive oil and 2) it must be cooked by wood
firing. Neither of these factors are found in most American pizzas,
and almost never both are presnt simultaneously. Hence, my requisite
dinner out at Chez Bartolo every time I pass through the City of
Light.

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