Pizzeria Da Franco

One of the most beautiful features of Milan: stumble into any restaurant and prepare to have your mind blown. Fresh off the airplane, I walked into the first restaurant I saw – a small pizzeria titled Pizzeria Da Franco. Luckily, my hands speak Italian, so I simply raised two fingers, and we were seated without any trouble.

Working through the menu was more of a challenge. If a word wasn’t a clear cognate, I clearly wasn't going to understand it. The back of the menu listed pizzas – this word I recognized. Mushrooms seemed to dominate the pizza part of the menu. I wasn't sure if funghi were a traditional Italian topping or a Da Franco specialty. Regardless, I felt compelled to try it, so I ordered a pizza with mushrooms and ham.

As we waited for our food, we noticed a questionable food display near the door. It appeared to be a failed attempt at a buffet, yet the only person I saw approach the food was a cook who quickly made a plate for himself before running back to the kitchen. 

I had heard that Milan had a tradition of offering an “aperitivo,” which consists of a drink and an all-you-can-eat buffet for one fixed price. I was interested in testing the waters of this Milanese culture, but after reviewing the unidentifiable items included in the buffet – soaked sardines and stuffed clams if I had to guess a couple – it felt wise to stick to the basics.

However in Milan, pizza is “basic” to the most elaborate degree. On my way to the restroom, I passed the most spectacular scene: a marble counter, dusted with flour, and topped with a bottle of olive oil, a bowl of tomato sauce, and a bucket of freshly risen dough. This is how I plan on designing my next bedroom.

When I returned to my table, I felt as though I had witnessed evolution take place – my finished pizza was awaiting my arrival.

My theory on the serving-style in Italy is this: restaurants don't want to rupture the beauty of the pie, so they serve the pizza uncut, alongside a knife so that you can do the damage yourself.
I've heard the same line time and time again: pizza in Italy is unlike any pizza you have ever experienced. All of my friends who have ever visited Italy have always told me this, but no one ever seems to be able to elaborate. So, allow me.
It's quite simple, and I've narrowed it down to one essential distinction – the sauce. Yes, the toppings are lovely and the dough is very thin, but the sauce is what causes these pizzas to transcend all others so that it doesn't seem fair to put Dominos in the same category. In America, I often order white pizzas because the tomato sauce is very heavy, overpowers other ingredients, and makes the pizza feel like it's going to set-up camp in my stomach for days.
In Italy, it's an entirely different breed. You can taste that real tomatoes were actually used, and probably on site. The sauce is lighter, thinner, and used in smaller amounts so you don't feel that intense acidity in the pit of your stomach after you've downed a few slices. The tomatoes are also sweeter, complementing the other ingredients instead of drowning them.
The tomato sauce on true Italian pizza has significantly increased my appreciation for tomatoes as a vegetable, or fruit depending on where you stand.
If you would like your perceptions altered, I highly suggest you wonder into Pizzeria Da Franco as well.

Pizzeria Da FrancoVia Carlo Farini, 3, 20154 Milano, Italy+39 02 655 2397