Gino Sorbillo - Lievito Madre in Rome: A Humble Review from a Foreigner in Rome

A few necessary preambles are in order, not so much about the pizzeria as about me, writing this report with a hint of awe. I'm Roman, and therefore far—not light years, but still far—from the monotheistic cult of Neapolitan pizza, from that mix of flour and alleys, from the infused science of those raised on bread and frittatas. And I've never tried Gino Sorbillo's pizza, shame on me; I've never eagerly awaited my turn on the legendary Via dei Tribunali. So I'm a foreigner filled with expectations and ready to be stunned by the creations of one of the most famous pizza chefs in Italy and the world. You'll understand, then, that the expectations are very high, and so is the fear of not being up to the task.

Mother Yeast in Rome

But here we are. Upon entering the restaurant, you're pleasantly struck by the brightness and color of the spaces. A large wood-fired oven made of Sorrento bricks welcomes you, with four diligent pizza chefs at work, and a marble table extending from the pizza area for dining on stools. There's an upper level, while the lower table is lined with blue panels to separate the tables and protect customers. The restaurant is packed, but the service is always prompt, attentive but not intrusive.

Gino Sorbillo's menu in Rome

The menu is summarized on the placemat, although I fear "summarized" isn't the most appropriate word. Because there are so many entries, the story is substantial, and it urgently demands space on that sheet of blue and white paper, practically illegible to the naked eye. I think of a poor tourist—we're right in the center of town, and there are plenty of them here—and how they can decipher those entries, if not be guided by their emotions. Each chapter has seven courses, a little more, a little less. There are three calzones, for example, and eight seasonal pizzas in the central column. Among the appetizers are all the essentials of Neapolitan tradition: frittatas, buffalo mozzarella, meatballs. Then the pizzas, what a delight: the traditional Margherita, the Cetara, the Alleanza pizza, the cicoli ricotta e pepe, even a vegan Margherita that I wasn't expecting.

At the top of the menu, Sorbillo states that "the dough is hand-cut," "natural yeast is added (wasn't it sourdough starter?)," "we only use Italian tomatoes," and "only extra virgin olive oil" is featured on the menu. Anyone who's a regular pizza chef or is simply a pizza enthusiast knows that research in this field has gone much further, going beyond the 24-hour leavening process and the Italian-ness of the ingredients.

Eating something before pizza almost seems like a disservice to the queen of dinner. So, besides a delicious and stringy croquette, there's only room for her: pizza. It's eaten on a Sorbillo-designed plate that evokes an old, almost nostalgic world: along the edge is a slew of social media icons, including the now-defunct Google+ and the outsiders Pinterest and Tumblr. There's this slightly flea-market feel, with the ever-present sponsor logos, the plates with the icons, the preserves and jars of produce prominently displayed in front of the oven, that seems to detract from the positive aura of the Sorbillo name.

Sourdough Pizzas

On the other hand, the pizza that arrives looks good: rich, rounded, appetizing, even well-rolled, and decidedly large. It has all the hallmarks of a classic Neapolitan pizza, which folds easily into itself, in the recognizable "booklet" shape. Sure, there's a little too much burning on the bottom, the slice barely holds the dough together, the edge seems slightly undercooked, the buffalo mozzarella creates a small milky sheen on the plate, it's hard to distinguish the textures of the mozzarella from that of the dough, so melt-in-the-mouth is the latter, the cherry tomatoes are out of season, and it's a bit lacking in flavor. All of these things were also partially noted during a visit to Milan by another Lievito Madre from the same company. I wonder: how will a dough like that hold up to toppings much heavier and more voluminous than the ones I chose? But hey, it's still a master's pizza, for goodness' sake!

After all, what can you expect? Pizza is a living, breathing, fickle object; no two are exactly alike. I almost have the impression that in a solar system where Sorbillo is the sun, the planets are the branches of his craft, and the further you get from the center, the more you're numb to his warmth. As if, in Tokyo as in Milan, only distant echoes of his fame and skill reach us.

Finally, the drinks and desserts menu. This too is a seven-course selection, divided between homages to Campania (such as wines from the Consorzio dei vini del Sannio, Falanghina del Benevento, and wines from Feudi San Gregorio, or desserts from Sal De Riso) and a few shots into the night: like Nastro Azzurro beers, sponsor of the Sorbillo brand, and two bottles of Champagne.

All I can do is hope that one day I'll be invited to the pizza chef's table and that he himself will let me taste the true art that has made him so famous.

Opinion

Gino Sorbillo's pizza at his Rome location doesn't seem to quite live up to the pizza chef's fame and his name. Despite this, the friendly service, delicious appetizers, reasonable prices, and lively experience still satisfy customers. Without overwhelming them.