Black South-Eaters

Address: Mitico Pizzeria, Kloof Street (next to Hudson’s, where St Elmo’s used to be).

Imali: ± I can’t remember, but cheap (thanks Voronki). Take you own booze – free corkage for now.

Gianni Vigliotti, the restaurateur at Mitico, is worried: “How’s the pasta? Al dente? Do you like al dente? I find South Africans, they like their pasta cooked, hnng? Overcooked. Too soft.”

He shakes his head, pulling his mouth in mild distaste.

We nod drunkenly enthusiastic, appreciatively, because the penne al arrabiata is delicious – al dente, and bursting with a sauce that is layered: pungent tomato and hot chilli that doesn’t sear, but which lingers on the tongue. For such a basic sauce, it’s rich, but also not oily.

We were at Mitico, Voronki and I, to have an impromptu celebratory drink with food after some good news on the publishing front concerning the Black South-Eater’s poetic endeavours. Mitico is new – it opened last week – so it might be some time before the place lives up to part of its name (“mitico” means “mythical”, but also “legendary” and, in colloquial speech, just “fantastic” or “marvellous”).

Mitico doesn’t have it’s liquor license yet, so there is no corkage charge. In fact, when we discovered this and as we had arrived dry, we hesitated. But the waiter suggested we get some drinks across the road. Which we did – some Darling Brew Bonecrusher (lulz)* and Solms Cape Jazz Shiraz – and which meant that our drinks bill was low.

Service was friendly, if a bit slow and inattentive, but we’ll forgive them that for now. Gianni, on the other hand, was anxiously busy, touting the place at the sidewalk entrance, talking to tables, making sure anybody didn’t need anything.

I suppose the best way to test a pizzeria is to go for the classics: Caprese salad starter, a salami, mushroom and olive pizza (the waiter encouraged we try the pizza), and the penne al arrabiata. I’ll eat the caprese, but I’m not a fan of it. I mean, yes, tomato, basil, mozzarella – it’s good and you can’t go wrong and it washes down well with the sparkling Shiraz, but I always think the caprese is more colour than anything else. (By the way, the wine goes well with anything, but I particularly like it with a cheddar or any stronger cheese.)

Caprese done, we lingered before ordering the other two dishes.

But the pizza! I haven’t been to Massimo’s Pizza Club, but whatever Massimo has to offer in faraway Hout Bay (and I trust all the reports I’ve been getting), I believe that Gianni has it on offer right here in Kloof Street. So, mindful that Massimo could trump Gianni, the pizza at Mitico is the best pizza I’ve eaten in Cape Town. I’ve never been a fan of Col Cacchio, I haven’t tasted the pizza at Il Leone, etc., and, recently, I wasn’t impressed by Baccini’s. But I’ll be back for more pizza at Mitico.

It’s thin without splintering like a cracker, it’s not over-loaded with mozarella, the tomato sauce base is simple, never sweet, mildly tart, and the salami is good quality salami and not the fatty, greasy gristle found often on the your everyday pizza in Cape Town.

Don’t get me wrong. You know the Black South-Eater moves between the high and the low, and there’s nothing wrong with a Butler’s pizza when you’re serial slumming (thin base margherita with anchovy and pineapple, ask them to use half of the cheese; try it and broaden your snobbish horizons). I have a soft spot for Butler’s, ever since I was a student, when I had an account as “Kaiser Strozek” (No, Kaiser Strozek, not Keyser Söze), and their pizzas have always, ever since, arrived hot and in less than 30 minutes. But should Mitico get a delivery service, Butler’s will be toasted cheese. Unless they name my favourite pizza “The Strozek.”

As mentioned earlier, the pasta was also delicious. Again, that mildly tart, non-sweet, non-greasy tomato sauce and the lingering burn of the chilli. I swallowed down mouthfuls whenever Voronki looked the other way.

As a smoker with dulled taste buds, I like my salt on my food, and with the first mouthful of pizza, I thought it needed a bit of salt. Then I tasted the pasta and also thought perhaps some salt would liven it up. Voronki cautioned against it, wisely so, because with the second bite for both dishes, I thought it was all good. I could taste and appreciate all the flavours and, rare for me, enjoyed what I would normally consider under-salted food. I take my hat off to Gianni and to the mysterious Sicilian and his helpers slaving away in that hot, wood-fired kitchen.

I had a macchiato for afters and now I know also where to go for that little upper. Unlike at other establishments, it’s not a mini cappuccino.

So, if you’re looking for a good pizza or bowl of pasta for an informal lunch or an early, sundowner dinner, get to Mitico, take your own booze, get an outside table and watch the outlandish outfits drifting up and down Kloof.

——————-

Notes:

* Thanks to Suip! for reminding about the Bone Crusher link.