Vincenzo Capuano, review: What the Golden Scissors Pizzeria in Turin is like

A puffy crust and golden scissors to reveal its cavernous cavities, colorful dough, and the inevitable Jamme ja!: these are the trademarks of Vincenzo Capuano, a Neapolitan pizza chef (really?) who has become a recognizable face (and voice) on social media and is opening restaurants at an impressive rate throughout Italy—so fast that he himself, or rather his website, can't keep up, and this new p

But there's already a sizeable queue of real people outside, thanks to the fact that the restaurant doesn't take reservations, as has become the norm among Neapolitan chains of historic brands (a win-win situation: on the one hand, it keeps the restaurant busy, and on the other, it's a better marketing tool than 6x3 signage).

Where is Vincenzo Capuano in Turin?

Of course, location is also important, and Vincenzo Capuano in Turin has chosen a very central location, just like his fellow countrymen Michele and Sorbillo (read our reviews): near Piazza San Carlo and Porta Nuova, a stone's throw from the very chic Via Mazzini. In particular, on Via Andrea Doria, there are two more: the Neapolitan Assaje and the historic Lampara right next door (they'll be delighted).

The place is spread over two floors, the ground floor and a fairly depressing lower one. The atmosphere is "contemporary," with neon signs, checkered floors, and green sofas lining the walls (which aren't exactly comfortable for eating, especially pizza). The music is a bit schizophrenic, somewhere between trashy and Pino Daniele.

The service is excellent in terms of speed, even when it's busy, but the rest needs some work. We hope other small and large quirks will be fixed soon: for example, the lock-free bathrooms (!).

Vincenzo Capuano's menu

Vincenzo Capuano's menu begins with a photo of him and his grandfather, reiterating the slogan "pizza makers for three generations." After a short but comprehensive selection of appetizers (montanare, crocché, frittatina, bruschetta, mozzarella, etc.) and three salads, the pizzas are on.

Which are divided into several sections, the logic of which however remains a bit obscure: the Traditional (8), the calzones (2), the Innovative (5), Seasonal Social Pizzas (well, 4 anyway), the Iconic ones of my family (2, but in yellow), the Unique ones of the master Capuano (7). For a total of 28 pizzas.

The drinking part is, as unfortunately usually happens in similar cases, embarrassing: three beers on tap (simply a red lager and a weiss), and if you ask about craft beers, as the menu suggests, they bring you a Baladin IPA and that's it.

Vincenzo Capuano's pizzas

But beyond all the concerns about the presentation, and the potential annoyance at the social media hype, what are Vincenzo Capuano's pizzas like? Good, there's little to say—though not without a few flaws, perhaps right where you'd least expect them.

But let's start with the appetizers, or rather, the fried foods: both the pasta frittatine and the montanarine are a bit greasy, but otherwise remarkable. The fried pizzas in particular work well with the pairings: the classic burrata and anchovy combo is enhanced with lemon zest; the Grana Padano fondue and fried zucchini recalls pasta alla Nerano; the pistachio, mortadella, and ricotta is more predictable. The trio would have also included the traditional sauce and grated cheese, but then you notice that it doesn't appear on the menu at all, in favor of a "ragù" version.

Capuano's pizza is—another of the pizza chef's social media catchphrases—contemporary. That is, it's more hydrated and has a thick crust, though without reaching the extremes of a canotto. The result is beautiful to look at; the shape of some discs is irregular, but that's not a problem; sometimes, however, the cooking is a bit too biased toward the top: a burnt crust and a slightly pale base. And the inside of the crust itself isn't as "cavernous" as it appears on Instagram, sometimes even a bit crowded, almost raw. These are minor flaws, but if your strong point is the dough, they're noticeable.

The other declared strength is the quality of the ingredients, and here it must be said that the challenge is met: both in the simple pizzas and in the original combinations. The classic Margherita is top-notch, the one with buffalo mozzarella is a bit watery (not easy, as we know). In the Diavola, spicy salami is almost nonexistent; otherwise, it's a triumph of abundance and flavor. The Melanzanella (with slow-cooked cherry tomatoes, burrata, and fiordilatte, along with eggplant mushrooms) is somewhere between parmigiana and pasta alla norma. Don Egidio, where the zucchini presents itself in two ways, creamed on the base and fried alongside the meatballs, is a spectacle. The fried meatballs return to the Neapolitan style, with equally remarkable results.

The bill is over €20 per person (as expected, given a menu that sets the Margherita pizza at €8 and almost all the others at over €10). Digestion is sometimes challenging, but overall, the meal ends well.

Opinion

Vincenzo Capuano's pizzeria in Turin, a social media sensation and pizza chef who opened under the Mole Antonelliana, embodies the strengths and weaknesses of the increasingly large Neapolitan chains. It's still worth a visit.