In 1963, when the Shipleys first emigrated back to the Old World, there were no pizza joints anywhere in Italy, except for one small take-out shop on the waterfront above Santa Lucia in Naples (and if anyone knew their bassifondi di Napoli in those days, it was the Shipleys, father and son). Fast-forward ten years, and the first deep-dish pizza take-out opened just up from the Duomo in Firenze (we were there too). Meanwhile, every Italian neighborhood and college town in America was already long overrun with thousands of pizza palaces and their spinning, shouting, singing chefs.
Yet today, Wikipedia and a gazillion colorful websites cite unverified sources to prove beyond a shadow of a doubt that pizza was invented in Naples sometime between the Neolithic age and the arrival of Queen Margherita of the House of Savoy. Plaques and framed letters—all suspiciously modern—prove beyond that ombre that the lovely gourmet Principessa of one of the oldest aristocratic houses of Europe was simply bowled over by her introduction to what would become the quintessential American junk food.
If we didn't have the evidence of our own eyes, we'd start ruminating on parallel universes and anti-worlds like the Bizarro version of that famous pizza-loving, Italian Superuomo, Clark Kent.
So here is our equally unsourced but supremely authentic history, which you are welcome to take to il Banco of your choice:
Modern shallow-dish Pizza was invented in the 1920s by the Pizzeria Regina in the North End of Boston. It spread all over America, including to Lombardi's in New York. When Italian-American servicemen arrived in Italy as conquerors, they demanded the dish from the local restaurants to little avail.
Yet, no one is better at spotting and capitalizing on a marketing trend than an Italian entrepreneur. When the first large-scale waves of American tourists crested post-war on the Italian shores, the Italians met them with tray after tray of the supremely American dish. Today, there might be five restaurants in the entire boot that don't double as pizzerias, but that trend is as native and authentically Italian as the Mexican tomato and Chinese spaghetti.
Deep-dish pizza in our history might have been invented in Chicago, but we can't afford the waistline-buster either way and almost never order it. Designer pizza was most certainly invented in the 1970s at The Black Cat (since closed) in Providence, RI, and then publicized and spread by a well-deserved, fawning review in Bon Appetit Magazine (yes, we were there too).
And this is what we cook in the Shipley household. Ironically, we use nothing but Anna Napolitana Tipo "OO" flour and Cento San Marzano tomatoes, both imported from Italy—although our yeast is French SAF-Instant, our anchovies are Portuguese, and our capers, mozzarella, and provolone hail from God-knows-where.
We come at the dish from a long line of baguette bakers, so whipping up the crust and raising and peeling it with a brush of olive oil onto our pizza stones is a no-brainer (you'll get there with enough practice). But then, the post-baking toppings, as in our tacos, run all over the map. Sometimes these work beautifully, sometimes they land in the trash with a sad sospiro di rimpianto. Most of the time, we satisfy our appetites with a simple Margherita (tomato, mozzarella, basil) or Napolitana (Margherita with capers and anchovies).
The internet is a treasure trove of pizza recipes, good and bad, in all styles. Google onward, and you’ll be rewarded eventually with your own favorite version. But as you munch away, add a silent thank you for Regina and her kin from the old Neighborhood in Boston. We always do.