OUR REVIEW IS IN: DON ANTONIO
Alright, I’ve got something mean to say.
Your favorite pizza spot? Probably not that special.
In fact, I’m convinced that in a blind taste test, you wouldn’t know the difference between your beloved neighborhood slice and the one next door. And how could you? It’s the same three ingredients: cheese, dough, and sauce. Your flappy triangle is identical to everyone else’s. That’s a fact—and also something you should never say to a woman.
Now, I’m not saying pizza is bad. I’m saying it’s good everywhere in this city. That’s precisely the point. The regular slice has reached saturation. Enter the rise of the pizza glow-up: Sicilian, Roman, Neapolitan. These pies aren’t just food—they’re a rebrand. They’ve got depth, structure, charisma. Especially Neapolitan pies, which are basically the supermodels of the pizza world. If regular pizza is your ex-boyfriend in a Champion hoodie, Don Antonio’s Neapolitan is Gisele Bündchen on a yacht with a Nobel Prize.
These personal-sized pizzas feel like a real meal, but you don’t feel disgusting after you finish one. No charred, bitter crust. No flavorless dough acting like a stomach sponge. No puddle of acidic tomato sauce drowning your taste buds. Just thoughtfully balanced flavors.
Take the Noci & Zucchini: imported smoked buffalo mozzarella, walnut cream, zucchini, basil, and EVOO. Who puts walnut cream on pizza and gets away with it? Don Antonio does—and it slaps.
If you like flavor combinations that shouldn’t work but somehow do, try the Sorrentina. The smoked buffalo mozzarella has chew—like, in a good way, the kind of chew that soothes your brain. And there are whole slices of lemon baked right in. The tangy citrus paired with the richness of the cheese is like giving in to an intrusive thought… but without the shame spiral. The basil? Not aggressive. Not like someone dragged you mouth-first across their herb garden. It’s restrained. It works.
The wait is usually quick, and while you're seated, you can watch the crew in action, tossing dough and working the wood-fired oven like pros. Bonus: Giorgia Caporuscio, one of the only female pizzaiolas in the U.S., runs the show. She trained under her father, a Neapolitan pizza legend, and has won more awards than most people have pots in their kitchen. Her mentor, Antonio Starita, was the third-generation owner of Starita a Materdei, one of the oldest pizzerias in Naples. So yeah, your pie has pedigree.