It used to be three blocks away from us. Just down the street. For years! Built up the year after we moved to San Francisco in 2010. There were even small handmade bike and framebuilder shows there occasionally, and the prices then were on the higher end but cheaper compared to what they are today. And then it left at the end of 2017.

It’s amusing that we finally ate there, 16 years later at the end of May, in New York City. I’m talking about Una Pizza Napoletana, the number one pizza restaurant in America, and which has topped the 50 Top Pizza in the world list in 2025, 2024, and 2022 (2026 is not formalized yet). Una Pizza is always jockeying for the top spot.

Owner and pizzaiolo Anthony Mangieri speaks to me. He’s heavily tattooed, rides bicycles (I’d often see him around town or in passing while on the popular routes in the Bay Area), wears Vans, and has a shokunin dedication to perfecting his craft. The restaurant is only open Thursday, Friday, and Saturday. It reserves one ball of dough for each patron. If you’re very lucky, you might be able to get a walk-in, or a spot hours later, but only if there’s enough spare dough.

Speaking of the dough: it is the reason you come to pay your respects at this temple of pizza. A naturally leavened and fermented dough AKA a sourdough base.

Like any obsessive craftsperson, the offerings are small, minimal, and curated. The menu has barely changed since I used to look at it while they were in SF, and aside from a few appetizers, and a seasonal special, it’s the same.

To top it off, or not, Jen and I are getting the most minimal of those offerings; the marinara. This is because I have a dairy allergy. Cheese eludes me. This is the ultimate test, right? There’s no hiding with crust, tomatoes, olive oil, and fresh basil. Though, for a bit of punch and protein, we add anchovies, which we both love.

The restaurant is calm. They clearly stagger the seatings: despite the difficulty in securing a reservation (thanks Bill!), the interior is quiet, the place not full. Our serviceperson is lovely. They help us order with no rush. We order the one pizza, despite the two of us. We can only eat so many carbs and we can’t get a different pizza. Marinated olives are ordered too, the only dairy-free option, and they are delicious.

To our immediate right, gapped by the pathways through the restaurant, is a special table. It’s the only one tucked away: an intimate booth that seats four to six. A photo of Mangieri, all Godfather-like presiding over white piles of flour is amazing (see first image!). Mangieri’s wife and daughter are also present and head there to decamp. Not too long after we’re seated, the parents of either Mangieri or his wife arrive to be seated and take on grandkid duties. It’s a family affair. I had to smile.

The pizza arrives, fresh out of the Italian oven that Mangieri has had shipped from Naples. I wonder what happened to the one he also had shipped and installed in the San Francisco location.

You can feel your mouth start to salivate, and I start to cut into it with my fork and knife. The pie is not pre-sliced.

Does it live up to the hype? Yes, yes it does. The crust is the star, as we had hoped. I have always judged pizzas by the crust, and as the genre has risen in quality over the decades and since my youth, there is no excuse to not be able to find a decent, if not good, pizza most anywhere you are these days.

We were asked if we wanted another. We toiled with the decision for a bit, but ultimately the summer heat and the idea of something refreshing beckoned. We politely declined. I hope a walk-in got to partake.

We finished the meal with a smooth, cream-free, house-made strawberry sorbetto. The perfect early summer treat and cap to an excellent meal.

Jen and I discussed how we felt about it. Excellent, and worthy of its accolades. Would we come back? Yes, we would. Are there pizzas that have come close? We had a surprisingly phenomenal pizza at Fordo’s Killer Pizza in St. Louis at the beginning of the year that was the exact same pizza: sourdough marinara with anchovies. And that was a great pizza.

This one tops it, but the delta between them isn’t as big as you’d expect, and getting a Fordo’s is easy and half the cost. Pizza is a relatively straightforward dish, but that’s what also makes it easy to fuck up. And even harder to perfect. Una Pizza and Anthony Mangieri is dedicated to his craft, and I can count myself as fortunate for having finally partaken in his pursuit.

Jen and I walked out into the early evening. There was plenty of light, and we proceeded to walk, enjoying New York’s warmth. Grateful. Satiated.

Thanks for reading,
Naz.