May 15, 2012 § Leave a comment
Before I jaunted off to California to bask in the glow of the golden coast, I stayed with my friend Josie in Atlanta, to catch up since I hadn’t visited her yet after her move. She took a new job at one of those super-cool, think-tanky design firms/branding outfits. I really don’t know what to call it, but I know their offices, in a refurbished warehouse, have that creative-geniuses-at-work-in-a-fish-tank-or-bee-hive look to them.
Anyway, back on track. As she knows I love to eat and she does as well, shortly after my arrival we hopped back into the car and breezed on over to Antico. Now, I’m not up on my Atlanta neighborhoods, so I can’t exactly tell you where it is, but what I can tell you is even more important. It’s stop-talking delicious.
You walk up to the counter, peruse their short, well-curated menu, and order your Pizza Napoletana. Immediately, due to the magic of the Internet surely, your order is funneled from cashier at the front to the army of pizza guys stationed by the ovens at the back. You linger over your drink choice and coolly scan the room for a place at one of the family style tables. Once situated, you are surprised by your pizza’s arrival, atop a piece of parchment on a whole sheet pan, before you’ve figured out you need a bottle opener for your Acqua Panna.
Ours, the Bianca, oozed fior di latte, ricotta, bufala, and pecorino from every angle, intermingling with the healthy dose of olive oil glistening across the oblong slate of dough. Slightly charred leaves of fresh basil dotted the surface, adding a splash of color to the ivory canvas. Waiting for a slice to cool was like willing the object of your affection to kiss you once your eyes lock.
Finally, the first bite: Slightly crunchy, the tender, thin crust gives way with minimal resistance to the chewy interior; the four cheeses melt and spread at their leisure as you chew. A few bites is all it takes to consume one slice, and then you’re on to the next. A heavily laden, meat-lover’s spread this is not, but rather, a rustic flat bread of airy consistency whose toppings seem as if to float atop its pillowyness.