On the road again

Helmed by Michele Pascarella, Napoli on the Road began life as a humble pizzeria in Chiswick, albeit one that quickly amassed a devoted cult following. Part of this is down to Pascarella’s exacting attention to detail: the pizza dough is made with high-protein Molino Denti flour, and undergoes a 36-hour fermentation before being stretched into shape. The resulting pizza has a crackly, almost focaccia-like crust and a wonderfully complex flavour. The nerdiness is clearly working: in their 2025 roundup, awards body 50 Top Pizza declared Napoli on the Road the fifth best pizzeria in the world. Cue another branch opening in Richmond and Pascarella crowned as the UK authority on pizza. 

In the wake of all this acclaim, procuring a table at the Chiswick branch has become borderline impossible, so I was thrilled to hear Pascarella was opening a new branch in Soho. Collaborating with Spanish design house Isern Serra, the aesthetics of the new restaurant are a far cry from the vaguely kitsch aesthetic of Italian restaurants. There are no chequered tablecloths or jugs full of rough house red here. The mood is more like a James Turrell artwork: austere and minimalistic, so that attention lands squarely on the food rapidly exiting the open kitchen.

We began the meal with fat, buttery Cerignola olives and a couple of perfectly balanced cocktails: for me, a fruity spritzy number, for my dining partner a lovely, oaky mezcal drink. Then it was time for starters: ribbons of carrot in a piquant, gingery puree with walnuts and crispy sage leaves (not bad); a trio of frittatina, hot and wobbly deep fried macaroni cheese balls (fantastic); ripe heirloom tomatoes tossed with hunks of mozzarella and herbs (beautifully executed); and grilled baby gem lettuce with orange, beetroot and goat cheese (intriguing). 

Then for the mains. The restaurant’s big-hitter is the Ricordi d’Infanzia, a beef ragu pizza, ranked the best pizza in the world last year by 50 Top Pizza. Slick with olive oil and Parmesan fondue, this is very much a knife and fork situation, so thin is the dough in the centre. (I took to ripping off the gorgeous crackled crusts and dipping them into the creamy centre.) I’ll be honest, as a perennially stubborn Italian, I was dismissive of the concept; my Ligurian grandparents would be rolling in their graves knowing I was eating ragu on pizza and not tossed with tagliatelle. But let them roll: the pizza was delicious and surprisingly light on the palate. It might be a touch too decadent to replace my go-to margarita with ham and olives, but as a special occasion treat, it was well worth it. The same might be said for the Triple Crunch, a frankly obscene steamed, fried and baked pizza doused with chili jam and crispy salami slices. Several inches high, it was dense but tasty, with an almost Korean sticky-spicy-sweet flavour profile.

By this point, I was flagging, but there is always room for dessert. Their tiramisu was good but the real highlight was their millefoglie sbagliata, a riot of sweetened cream, puff pastry, flaked almonds and booze. With a little grappa to wash it down, it might be the best mouthful of food I’ve had this year so far.

Napoli on the Road faces fierce competition from its Wardour Street neighbours: Soho is not exactly deprived of fantastic restaurants. Yet on the Tuesday evening I visited, it was fully booked; punters were happy to wait for over half an hour at the bar for a table. I can understand why. When the cooking is this assured, and the pizza this good, enthusiasm like that tends to take care of itself.

Book a table at Napoli on the Road here.