Eighty seconds this morning on the documentary series that Netflix has just put online on one of my great passions, approached here from an almost metaphysical angle: what is at stake in a pizza? What does she have to tell us? Why do men and women dedicate their lives to making it?
It’s a series in as many portraits: here is Chris Bianco from Phoenix, Arizona. He would be the “John Coltrane of pizza”, a jazzman therefore. Pistachios crushed in a mortar, rosemary, onion, his “pizza rosa” has “the taste and smell of the desert”, we are told. Here, in Rome, Gabriele Bonci. Nicknamed “the Michelangelo of pizza”, he remains convinced that “every bite measures the power of pizza”. Ann Kim is American of Korean origin, her pizzas, she considers them as so many media and cultural vectors. In Japan, Yoshihiro Imai recounts the mystical call he felt one day. Today, he makes pizza play the role of rice in traditional Japanese menus.
In this very aesthetic series, we talk too much, in any case much more than we eat. And even if I can already hear Matthieu Noël making fun of me, these portraits evacuate the big question: where does the feeling that you will never eat the best pizza in your life come from? I don’t know but I guess it must still be my mother’s fault.
Chef’s table, pizza, to see on Netflix.