After reading a piece in Time Out some time back about London’s best pizza, I decided I just had to visit the number one venue. On a balmy Wednesday night, I forsook watching Fulham come close to Europa League glory and wandered out to Ealing with a very scrutinising face on.
Pizza is quintessential Italian (or, rather, Italian-American) rustic food. It is no-frills, no-complications fare. There is something wonderfully universal about pizza: it is just so popular: hell, I’ll wolf down a Domino’s once in a while (but I draw the line at Pizza Hut). In fact, I’d go so far as to say I don’t fully trust people who don’t like pizza. Suspect judgemental calls aside, I did wonder the following: how do you quantify impeccable pizza?
Okay, there are areas you can touch on for sure… The base must be soft, thin and crunchy at the crust. The toppings must be generous, flavoursome and yet not overdone. The finish should be not at all greasy but certainly not too dry. You can go on and on (as I once did about burgers), but the point is it’s damn hard to judge anything so well-loved.
Santa Maria has not been open long (it opened earlier this year) but its rise to fame has been metronomic. The feature in Time Out all but pushed it to superstar status. So much so that two of us went there at 9pm on a Wednesday night and still had to wait for 15 minutes to get seated. I can sort of see why.
Firstly, everyone in Ealing is delighted they’re so close to such a popular and famous eatery that they can call their own. And I don’t blame them for that. Secondly, it’s just so rustic and pretty that anybody would want to go there. Opposite a small green, housing a traditional wood-fired oven and buzzing with patrons, who wouldn’t pop in there on the odd evening? Lastly, the pizza is good. Really good, in fact. But not amazing. Hang on, has pizza ever been amazing?
Whilst I chewed on my first mouthful, I thought three things: one, this is not the best pizza I’d ever eaten; two, what is the best pizza I’d ever eaten?; and three, by heaven, the dough was perfect. I can’t honestly say what the best pizza I’ve ever eaten was or where I ate it. There’s something about pizza at a roadside café in Italy that galvanises the senses, thick American pizza has a delightful charm, and even some of the stuff you get in Soho is great. But the best..? A tough call indeed.
So, the bases are just incredible: perfectly soft underneath, perfectly crisp on the crust and perfectly thin. That’s one excellent factor taken care of. Now, as for the rest, it just didn't quite click. We tried two pizzas, the Santa Carmela (ham and mushroom) and the San Daniele (drier base with cherry tomatoes, rocket, ham and parmesan.) I felt the first would be perfect and the second was a more adventurous choice. In the event, the safe choice of ham and mushroom proved to be something of a letdown (left).
The toppings were fairly slapdash, and it looked as if it had been 
thrown together with a minimum of fuss. Now, if you want to produce and serve food in that way, I have no problem. But it has to be good if you want to do so. Not that this pizza was bad as such, it just could've been nicer. Surprisingly, the second effort was better (right). Even though it looked a bit dry and bland, the combination worked perfectly. I think this was where the excellent bases really came into their own. Despite fairly large sections of crust, it was never dry, never tough and never too chewy.
So, two pizzas down, off we went. I cannot clearly say this is the best pizza I've eaten in London, but as I mentioned earlier, I couldn't really say what is. Santa Maria is good - at times great - but there is something missing. One final topping of quality, you might say. It's almost there but not quite. Personally I think it's to do with the publicity and reputation they've acquired from being awarded London's best pizza: it's easy to start increasing turnover at the expense of quality in the face of such fame.
All that said, however, I would go back. It's a little ironic that if I hadn't read about this being London's best pizza, I might not have been there, yet having gone there with that knowledge, I found it a little disappointing. I still don't know how to judge perfect pizza. Maybe there just isn't any in London. Maybe pizza is never perfect. Maybe it's impossible to judge. However, Santa Maria..? An utterly charming, genuine local eatery. Good for them.
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