The 5 worst pizzas of a lifetime – 03/17/2023 – Cozinha Gross
Everyone in Brasilia knows a pizzeria called Dom Bosco. It has survived since the days of JK, thanks to the low price and the convenience of having several units open until dawn.
Lie, there’s more to it than that. Brazilians love Dom Bosco’s pizza. It takes a strong hold on the affective memory of those who were born in the capital or became attached to it.
Passions like that are hard for an outsider to understand. Dom Bosco is always a very simple place, with a kiln in which discs of half-dried dough lie. There’s only one flavor of pizza: mozzarella. The sauce, if it deserves the name, goes on top of the cheese.
Advised to avoid it, I tasted the Dom Bosco pizza. Totally acceptable, but beware that I have an unusually high tolerance for bad pizza.
One needs a lot of talent and dedication to make an inedible mozzarella pizza. It’s just bread and cheese, after all. I don’t speak for the other flavors: you can perpetrate terrible tragedies with tiny doses of truffle oil or creamy cheddar.
I can’t name the five best pizzas I’ve ever eaten – there were too many over many years, too much for my damaged head. The bad pizzas marked me indelibly.
Let’s get to the top five without further ado.
Fifth, the one that made me understand that even mozzarella pizza can be an evil entity.
I was 21 years old, I was a total gourd and I went to London without money and clueless. Right away, I decided to attack some pizzas that some Asian immigrants sold on the sidewalk, heated in the microwave and with a little cabbage salad on the side. Really, really bad – but I went back to them because the English food my money could buy was even worse.
In fourth place, my most recent discovery, of a convenience store that starts with “ox” and ends with “xo.”
I made the mistake of ordering such a pizza, which was promptly placed in a NASA microwave for six or seven seconds. The nearly liquefied dough, the non-existent sauce, the charred cheese, it felt like the post-apocalyptic incarnation of London pizza.
The bronze medal goes to a famous chain of sfihas that cause heartburn. As the esfihas give heartburn, and the people in the office insisted on ordering them on duty, I decided to opt for the most harmless item on the menu: she, the mozzarella pizza.
She was even nice in the photo. Live, it had bad pasta, bad cheese and one-dimensional sauce, dotted in a red circle just where the edge met the mozzarella. Deserves a podium for his poker face.
Secondly, the only pizza they deliver to the condominium where my son lives, in the interior of São Paulo. For them, it’s not enough to use the worst ingredients, you have to use tons of them. Two fingers of the oiliest cheese on the face of the Earth.
Finally, the champion lives (or lived) in an unsuspected bakery in São Paulo. Insidious in its innocent appearance, with the credentials of a safe snack, it carried nauseating odors in the mozzarella. I don’t know how to explain it, it’s just supernatural.
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