The capital of pizza isn’t where you think it is. It isn’t New York, home of the long-perfected New York slice, or Naples and its Antica Pizzeria da Michele of Eat Pray Love fame. It isn’t even Caserta, known for the Reggia (the city’s majestic Bourbon palace rivaling Versailles in its extravagance and scale), the Camorra, and—critical for pizza—Italy’s best mozzarella.
The real capital of pizza is a tiny rural village in Southern Italy called Caiazzo. Getting there entails turning off the motorway an hour north of Naples and driving up dilapidated winding roads. For centuries Caiazzo was home to the Italian-village trifecta—a church, a café, and a funeral parlor—and not much else.
