The Fascinating Journey of Pizza Through Time

The story of pizza is a mix of fact and fiction, much like a pie divided into Margherita and myths.

Contrary to popular belief, the tale of the tri-colored pizza created for Queen Margherita of Savoy is purely fictional. Additionally, U.S. soldiers did not universally adore pizza during World War II and introduce it to America. Nor is New York's pizza superior due to its water.

The authentic history of pizza is far more captivating than the myths surrounding it. Explore iconic pizza styles and uncover fascinating tidbits, such as Kim Jong Il importing a pizza chef to North Korea and debates over whether the Greeks, not Italians, should be credited with its creation.

The Debated Beginnings of the Margherita Pizza

In 2014, New York Mayor Bill DeBlasio sparked a minor global controversy after being photographed enjoying his pizza with a knife and fork. Jon Stewart, among others, criticized DeBlasio’s neat approach, labeling it “the ultimate offense a New Yorker could make.” Similarly, Donald Trump faced public backlash in 2011 for committing the same utensil offense.

DeBlasio justified his actions by referencing his Italian roots, stating, “In my family’s homeland, it’s customary to use a fork and knife.” Indeed, dining at a pizzeria in Naples means receiving an uncut pizza accompanied by the necessary cutlery.

However, a YouGov survey following the (largely exaggerated) uproar over DeBlasio’s eating style revealed that over 90% of Americans prefer eating pizza with their hands. This raises the question: Was the mayor mistaken or justified? 

The truth is, both perspectives are valid, as pizza is both a global icon and deeply tied to local traditions. This explains why some view a Hawaiian pizza as an affront to bread, while others see it as a testament to cultural exchange, migration, and creativity (or simply a tasty meal). 

We begin with the Neapolitan pizza, originating from Naples, Italy, often hailed as pizza’s birthplace. This is where the Queen Margherita tale emerges. The story allegedly unfolded in 1889 at a pizzeria once named Pietro e basta cosi, meaning “Pietro and that’s enough.”

In the more vivid retelling of the legend, Queen Margherita of Savoy, during Italy’s unification, united the nation by embracing the commoners’ simple dish—a meal that coincidentally mirrored the colors of the flag that had symbolized the country since the late 1700s. 

Indeed, a pizzeria by that name once existed, though it now operates under the name Brandi and continues to serve pizzas today. Queen Margherita was a real historical figure, and she may have enjoyed what we now know as the Margherita pizza. Pizzeria Brandi even displays a plaque commemorating this claim. 

The pizza now known as Margherita actually existed before its supposed royal origin. As Giuseppe A. D’Angelo, a Neapolitan scholar, notes on his site Pizza Dixit, a pizza featuring tomato sauce, mozzarella, and basil was documented in the 1853 book Usi e Costumi di Napoli e contorni descritti e dipinti (Customs and Habits of Naples described and depicted). 

Perhaps the pizza wasn’t created for the Queen but was instead named after her? This could be true, but there’s no definitive evidence linking it to Pizzeria Brandi. Even if the name dates back to 1889, it didn’t immediately become a sensation in the city. 

Nearly a century after the Queen’s alleged pizza tribute, the Margherita pie wasn’t widely recognized, even in Naples. D’Angelo references a 1967 RAI broadcast where a Neapolitan TV reporter appears puzzled about the Margherita, mistakenly believing it contained an egg. The pizzaiolo he interviews clarifies, “There is a pizza with an egg, but it’s no longer called Margherita.” 

The true origins of the Margherita pizza, as well as its simpler counterpart, the Marinara—topped with tomatoes, oil, garlic, and salt (sometimes enhanced with oregano or anchovies)—may forever remain a mystery. 

Pinpointing the history of these names is challenging because pizza names weren’t standardized in the 19th century. Food historian Tommaso Esposito explains that until the mid-20th century, pizzas were typically ordered by specifying the desired toppings. Esposito, who authored a book on pizza-themed songs from the 16th century to 1966, found no mention of specific pizza names in these songs. While the lack of evidence doesn’t disprove their existence, it’s striking that no written records from the late 19th or early 20th century refer to a Margherita pizza by name.  

Pizzeria Brandi cites a royal letter allegedly written by Galli Camillo, the “Head of the Table of the Royal Household,” as proof of their claim. However, the letter never specifies any pizza name, let alone pizza Margherita. Zachary Nowak of the Umbra Institute suggests the letter might be forged, as it doesn’t appear in royal archives and differs from Camillo’s known handwriting.

Neapolitan pizza has a way of inspiring passion. The Associazione Verace Pizza Napoletana (AVPN), or “The True Neapolitan Pizza Association,” enforces strict International Regulations [PDF] that leave little room for improvisation. 

The AVPN mandates that accredited pizzerias use no more than 20% regular flour in their dough, favoring 00 flour, which is fine, white, and free of bran or germ. They specify a 7% range for dough hydration, emphasize the importance of dough elasticity and plasticity, and require specific fermentation methods and tomatoes sourced from select Italian regions. The AVPN recognizes only two pizza types: Margherita and Marinara. 

Let’s briefly explore the second style. Its name, derived from the Italian word for “mariner,” suggests it was associated with sailors. One theory claims the name comes from the ingredients being easy to transport on long voyages. Another version suggests it was named for its simple, affordable ingredients, accessible even to low-income sailors. Regardless of its origin, this highlights pizza’s historical role as an economical dish. In Italy, pizza likely began as a quick, inexpensive option made by bakers who could prepare the dough swiftly and sell it on the streets for minimal cost.

Defining What Makes a Pizza a Pizza

The two iconic Neapolitan pizza styles wouldn’t exist without tomatoes. Tomatoes first appeared in Italian cookbooks in the late 1600s, though they were brought to Europe by the Spanish a century earlier.

Today, tomatoes—a crop introduced to the Spanish by the Aztecs—are often considered a fundamental part of pizza. The Oxford English Dictionary describes pizza as a dough-based dish “topped with tomatoes, cheese, and various other ingredients.” 

Those who’ve enjoyed a white pizza might question this definition. The OED notes, in a supplementary remark, that certain pizza varieties exclude tomatoes, cheese, or both. 

This likely applies to the earliest pizzas ever referred to as “pizza.” A historical document from Gaeta, roughly 60 miles from Naples, dating back to around 1000 CE, details an agreement requiring someone to provide a bishop with 12 pizzas every Christmas and Easter Sunday. At that time, tomatoes were still unknown in Europe, growing only across the Atlantic.

While we can’t know exactly how these early pizzas looked or tasted, the simplest version before the Columbian Exchange might have resembled a basic Mediterranean flatbread—similar to a pita. 

Many sources believe the connection between pita and pizza is intentional, tracing a linguistic link between the two. However, this isn’t the only theory. Some argue the term originates from the Germanic Lombards, related to their word bizzo, meaning “bite.” A 1907 Italian etymology book suggests it stems from pinza, which referred to something like a “clamp.” Regardless of the origin, the similarity between pita and pizza is intriguing.  

For millennia, people worldwide have been crafting various forms of flatbread. The cultivation of grains like wheat is deeply connected to the development of civilization, and it doesn’t require a culinary genius to top a simple bread with delicious ingredients. 

From Figs to Canned Pineapple

In modern Italy, you’ll find versions of pizza without tomatoes or cheese. One of the most well-known is Roman pizza bianca, which resembles focaccia but is prepared differently. Cooked in a hotter oven, it boasts a lighter, crispier crust compared to traditional pizza.

Pizza bianca is frequently sliced open and filled with savory ingredients such as mortadella, cheese, or vegetables. This practice of stuffing bread-like creations likely traces back thousands of years. As noted in Franceso Duscio’s La Romanesca, enslaved individuals in Ancient Rome used figs for this purpose. 

Figs might appear unusual as a food for the less affluent, but if you’ve encountered a fig tree, you’ll grasp how they could become plentiful in ancient Rome. Even now, the Italian phrase mica pizza e fichi—meaning “not pizza and figs”—is used to signify something valuable or not entirely straightforward. 

Over time, fig-topped pizza gained popularity beyond those who consumed it out of necessity. Affluent diners enhanced the dish with prosciutto, creating a variation that echoes pizza’s origins and remains beloved today. The combination of sweet figs and salty ham offers a delightful contrast, akin to the salty-sweet balance of a Hawaiian pizza. While fresh figs and prosciutto may seem more appealing than canned pineapple and ham, the parallels between the two dishes might encourage pizza purists to rethink their biases.

Most accounts credit Sam Panopoulos, a Greek-born restaurateur in Ontario, with inventing the Hawaiian pizza in 1962. During his journey to Canada, his ship stopped in Naples, where he first encountered pizza. Panopoulos didn’t focus on crafting an authentic Neapolitan pizza. Instead, his restaurants served mainstream dishes like hamburgers and pancakes. The Hawaiian pizza was introduced as a unique offering to attract customers and differentiate his business. 

At the time, pizza was relatively unknown in Canada. As Panopoulos recalled, “Even Toronto had little knowledge of pizza back then. The only place you could find it was in Detroit.”

From Detroit to Chicago Deep Dish and Beyond

Gus Guerra is often regarded as the pioneer of Detroit-style pizza, which originated in the 1940s. A Detroit pie resembles Sicilian pizza but is traditionally “baked in blue steel pans, similar to those used in auto factories to store nuts and bolts.” 

Whether Detroit-style pizzerias still use these industrial pans, the ideal Detroit pizza features a lighter dough than Chicago’s and crispy cheese along the edges. This crispy crust is achieved by sprinkling Wisconsin brick cheese over the dough, edge-to-edge, allowing it to caramelize in the oven.

Chicago-style pizza is typically linked to 1943 and Pizzeria Uno. These ultra-cheesy pies bake for up to an hour in high-sided, buttery “pastry shell crusts.” Olive oil, often used in cooking, adds extra fat, creating a fried-like outer crunch. To shield the cheese during the lengthy bake, the sauce is typically layered on top of the mozzarella. 

A unique take on extended baking times might have led to the creation of Ohio Valley-style pizza. Its hallmark is the addition of cold toppings, including cheese, just before serving. 

Chicago-style pizza is often referred to as “deep dish” pizza. Despite being baked in a pan, it’s not typically labeled “pan pizza.” That term is reserved for its thicker-crusted relative, which usually places the cheese above the sauce. If this reminds you of Pizza Hut’s offerings, it’s no coincidence. The chain played a significant role in popularizing what is now commonly known as pan pizza. Brothers Dan and Frank Carney founded their chain in Wichita, Kansas, in the mid-20th century. 

All these thicker pizzas share a connection—if not historical, then at least conceptual—with what many Americans call Sicilian pizza. This square pie appears to derive from Sicilian sfincione, a dish still popular in Sicily today, typically topped with tomatoes, onions, and sometimes anchovies and grated caciocavallo cheese. Sfincione roughly translates to “thick sponge.”

The so-called “Sicilian pie” in places like New York likely emerged when Sicilian immigrants gained affordable access to mozzarella, possibly influenced by their Neapolitan neighbors. 

At the other extreme of the crust spectrum lies St. Louis-style pizza. This style features an unleavened dough, resulting in a thin, cracker-like crust. It’s typically topped with Provel, a blend of provolone, Swiss, and cheddar cheeses. Rather than large squares or traditional triangles, St. Louis pizzas are often cut “tavern style,” a shareable format common across the Midwest.

Of course, the influence of Italian immigrants extends beyond the U.S. In Argentina, locals enjoy fugazza con queso, a pizza topped with onions and cheese, its name derived from a variation of the word focaccia. 

In Italy, you can try pizza montanara, a fried take on Neapolitan-style pizza. The dough is fried in hot oil, topped, and then briefly finished in a traditional oven. 

This differs from pizza fritta, widely available in Naples, where ingredients are folded into the dough before frying. Many believe this version gained popularity during World War II food shortages, as a way to make less desirable ingredients more appealing.

Debunking Common Pizza Myths 

Food shortages during the war cast doubt on the popular belief that pizza gained popularity in America after soldiers tried it overseas. As food historian Simone Cinotto explained, “Ingredients for pizza were scarce, and many ovens were destroyed by bombings.”

Most American soldiers never reached the Italian mainland, and if they did, they would have likely encountered pizza in war-torn Naples, as it wasn’t widely popular elsewhere. While possible, this is unlikely the main reason for pizza’s global rise in the following decades. In 1947, two years after the war, The New York Times noted, “Pizza could rival the hamburger in popularity if Americans were more familiar with it.”

While the war and its hardships may have helped popularize pizza fritta, fried dough has long been part of Italian cuisine. Examples date back to the 1500s, including early forms of zeppole, which can be either sweet or savory.

Visitors to the Feast of San Gennaro in Little Italy know that New Yorkers embraced zeppole. Naturally, they also put their unique twist on pizza.

Lombardi’s is often credited as the first pizzeria in the U.S. Gennaro Lombardi opened it in Little Italy in 1905, as noted on the restaurant’s website. Like many early American pizzaiolos, Lombardi honed his skills in Naples. But how did New York develop its distinct pizza style?  

As Serious Eats explains, technology played a significant role. Early 20th-century New York pizzerias used coal-fired ovens, which could achieve the intense heat of Naples’ wood-fired ovens. These ovens were also space-efficient and cost-effective, burning fuel more efficiently. The result wasn’t an exact copy of Neapolitan pizza but was similar enough to be served whole and eaten right away.

When Italian American immigrant Frank Mastro introduced a gas-powered pizza oven decades later, it reached temperatures around 550 degrees Fahrenheit, much lower than the 800-plus degrees of coal and wood ovens. This resulted in a slower-baking pizza that dried out more. While it lacked the light, airy texture of a Neapolitan pie, it had a longer shelf life. As pizza historian Scott Wiener noted, “Pizza by the slice often needs reheating, so the oven type matters.” Over time, iconic slice shops spread across New York City and eventually nationwide. 

While the oven is crucial to New York-style pizza, the water’s role is often overstated. Many claim New York’s tap water has the perfect mineral balance for dough, but this is debatable. Soft water, like New York’s, tastes different from hard water, and minerals like calcium and magnesium can theoretically influence gluten development, affecting the dough’s texture.

However, when J. Kenji López-Alt conducted a semi-scientific test on water hardness and pizza dough quality, he found no clear link between dissolved solids in water and final crust quality. 

The myth of “magical New York tap water” further weakens when considering the exceptional pizza found in places like Naples, Italy, and Phoenix, Arizona. In Phoenix, Chris Bianco opened his acclaimed pizzeria, sparking a nationwide trend for high-quality, wood-fired Neapolitan (or Neo-Neapolitan) pizza. In 2003, Bianco became the first pizzaiolo to win the James Beard Award for Best Chef Southwest.

About 15 months later, BBC Radio 3 highlighted a unique honor given to Ermanno Furlanis, a pizza maker and culinary instructor. He was flown from Italy to North Korea under mysterious circumstances to teach military officers how to make pizza. While details of Furlanis’s story are hard to verify independently, it’s true that Kim Jong Il, North Korea’s then-Supreme Leader, was a food enthusiast—he even opened the country’s first pizzeria in 2009 during a time of famine.

Furlanis recounted an incident where his students meticulously counted the olives on his pizza and measured their spacing. This amusing detail carries subtle socio-political implications. Yet, in a way, such precision isn’t entirely different from the pursuit of authenticity many chefs strive for. 

The Concept of “Authentic” Pizza

In today’s food world, the idea of “authenticity” is often met with skepticism or outright dismissal. The term is fluid, as food and our relationship with it constantly evolve. Pizza, however, bridges both sides of this debate.

On one hand, breaking from tradition led to innovations like deep dish pizza or a white pizza topped with prosciutto and figs. On the other hand, there’s a certain charm in perfecting the art of an authentic Neapolitan pizza, even if its strict definition was established by a non-profit organization founded in 1984. 

Even when simplified to its basics, no two days are alike for a pizzaiolo. The yeast is alive, and the fire behaves unpredictably. Temperature and humidity fluctuate. In this context, authenticity transcends being just a marketing term; it embodies the mindful pursuit of perfection, striving for an ideal that may only exist in one’s imagination.

Some of New York’s finest pizza today is served at Lucali in Carroll Gardens, Brooklyn, where pies start at $30 each. In Naples, a similarly delicious pizza can be enjoyed for around $6. 

This price gap is partly due to real estate: a two-bedroom apartment near Lucali sold for nearly $1.5 million in 2021, while a comparable space in Naples costs a fraction of that. Cooking style also plays a role: a true Neapolitan pizza uses a dough ball weighing 200 to 280 grams and is lightly topped. A single slice from Ray’s of Greenwich Village weighed about 240 grams, as noted by a New York Times writer.

Lucali was founded by Mark Iacono, a Brooklyn marble worker with no prior professional pizza-making experience or visits to Italy before opening his shop. While Lucali’s high prices benefit from effective marketing and celebrity endorsements from figures like Beyoncé and David Beckham, Iacono seems torn between two worlds. His pizza is practically gourmet, yet he once stated, “A good New York slice beats every other kind of pizza.” 

Iacono’s passion for the humble slice is genuine, but achieving the pizza perfection he consistently delivers requires the dedication great pizzaiolos worldwide have long demonstrated. After securing his lease, Iacono spent over two years honing his craft in anonymity before feeling ready to open to the public.

His classic plain pizza subtly nods to the traditional Neapolitan style, though he avoids calling it a Margherita. As a 2015 New York Times profile noted, “Carroll Gardens isn’t Naples.”

Neapolitan pizza is often hailed as the ultimate pizza. Yet, the idea of a “true” pizza is elusive. A plain pie should remain a simple, affordable meal for the working class. At the same time, it deserves recognition for its artistry and should be valued as such. Half-Margherita, half myth.