Photograph by Growl Bros.
I spent the past couple of years living in Los Angeles, and one thing I noticed on my return to Atlanta: major shifts in the local pizza scene.
Nina & Rafi on the Eastside Beltline closed. Humble Pie in West Midtown also shut its doors, as did Ammazza in Old Fourth Ward and Decatur. Meanwhile, Anthony Spina, the son of popular Atlanta pizzaiola Anthony Spina Sr., is aiming for a fall opening of his new pizza shop, Spina, next door to his restaurant Small Fry at Atlanta Dairies on Memorial Drive. And Pizza Jeans (Ponce City Market) owner Jeremy Gatto is working with Pour Taproom to fill the Nina & Rafi space with a New York–inspired Pizza Dynamo.
But amid all of this, from Old Fourth Ward to OTP, there is also evidence of a fresh (or refreshed) trend: an effort by mid- to high-level-dining chefs to dial in “Neo-Neapolitan” pizza, specifically focusing on cold-fermented sourdough, then wood-firing the pies in minutes so that they come out with “leoparding” on the dough (the desirable dark brown and black charred spots that novices interpret as “burnt”), and blazing fresh ingredients. They don’t adhere to the strict guidelines of classic Neapolitan pizza from Naples, Italy. But they veer close.
Yes, there are Atlanta’s wood-fired standbys: Westside pizza-grandad Antico, Decatur’s No. 246, and East Atlanta’s Argosy all churn out their versions.
But this new Neo-Neapolitan movement in Atlanta—“a pizza renaissance,” ventures chef Jake Pollitz at Staplehouse in Old Fourth Ward—is essentially an aftereffect of the Covid-19 pandemic. His thinking goes like this: (1) Locked in homes in 2020, people learned to make sourdough; (2) dour economics forced restaurants to change their business models or die, which was reflected in menus offering grab-and-go or “just eat on our new patio” fare; and (3) presto, certain very talented chefs in Atlanta got inspired to make Neo-Neapolitan pizza with wholesome sourdough and fresh-sourced local ingredients.
Photograph by Growl Bros.
Let’s start at Staplehouse, which during the pandemic transitioned from award-winning fine dining to a more casual, market-style concept. The current pizza program—which began on a lark by chef Ryan Smith and Pollitz over Thanksgiving 2022—offers four Neo-Neapolitan pies: Margherita, pepperoni, and two seasonal offerings. Many of the ingredients, except for the cheese and tomatoes, come from the Quercus Farm south of Atlanta. (The farm is part of The World of Quercus, where Smith also helms the luxury resort’s Uberto Restaurant.)
I visited on a slow Sunday evening and sat amid Staplehouse’s alfresco rustic charm, which includes picnic tables, a firepit, and the restaurant’s first pizza oven. The staff served me the seasonal Calabrian (ricotta, tomato, basil, Calabrian chile peppers, hot honey), and when the pie arrived, it showed strong leoparding and a popped “marshmallow” or two. The inner circle looked like Christmas—fire red, deep green, and creamy white. By the end of the first slice, the Calabrian’s spice had me sweating hard enough to Google “Scoville of Calabrians.” (Pollitz says the peppers grown on the Quercus Farm carry extra zing.) But the spice didn’t distract me from the seven delicious things happening in my mouth: the complexity of the dough, the smoky char, the aromatic basil, the sprightly tomato, the sweet honey, the savory cheese—and, yes, that heat.
Similar pizza care is evident at Pendolino, opened in 2024 on Roswell Road inside the Perimeter. In creating his casual-upscale Italian space, chef Kevin Maxey didn’t want to overwhelm diners with huge pizzas. Inspired by the tiny pizzette in Italy, he downsized his dough by a third to arrive at 10-inch pies. Pendolino offers five traditional and seasonal Neo-Neapolitan pizzette.
I tried the Mushroom and Lacinato Kale Pizzette, with garlic confit and mozzarella. The crust sported the deep-brown spots of a jungle cat. And the fresh-funky mushrooms and kale, holding hands with the utterly silky confit, tasted less like what one would call a “pizza” and more like a gourmet treat.
Photograph by Growl Bros.
Chef Brian Lewis’s Bocado has also been repositioned, literally and figuratively. Formerly winning critical praise on the Westside and in Alpharetta, both locations shuttered in recent years. Now, Bocado occupies a quiet corner of Powers Ferry Village in Sandy Springs, with 12-inch Neo-Neapolitans as the menu’s focus.
I dined there twice, and on each occasion the pizzas (Housemade Sausage with Wild Mushroom, and the standard Margherita) came out in a slightly different shape—heartlike the first time, slightly oval the second. I read this as “authentic” and not a screwup. Both quarter-sliced pies went down easy, but the sausage and mushroom exhibited a rich variety of colors—light brown, dark brown, bright red, scallion green, mozzarella cream—that foreshadowed its complex layering of smoky-fresh flavors.
Executive chef Tyler Haake, who served eight years at Argosy, heads the trendy Italian menu at Indaco on the Beltline across from Ponce City Market. Indaco offers, almost as a side note to the three-course Italian menu, six 12-inch Neo-Neapolitans each night.
I visited on a weekday evening and ordered the Spicy Soppressata pizza outfitted with the usual suspects of tomato sauce, mozz, parm, and basil, all Jackson Pollock’ed with honey. When the pizza arrived, I could see the dough needed more time in the oven, and the overall eating experience was sloppy. But there were moments when the not-so-spicy pork hit the sweet honey and cool basil just right, in a way that lifted the pie beyond the sum of the parts.
In Atlanta’s pizza renaissance, Mister 01 has invaded Sandy Springs and Buckhead. The chain hogs social media attention with its Star Luca pizza—a 13-inch star-shaped, Margherita-inspired pie with salame calabrese, the doughy points stuffed with ricotta. I showed up to the Sandy Springs location on a rainy evening and—after being informed the line for a table was 16 parties deep—I hacked the entire system through the restaurant’s to-go window.
A short time later, I held my warm Star Luca in a box, which I escorted like a date to nearby steps under a rain-wet tree. I would like to say I fell in love. But the ricotta kept dumping out of the star points, and overall, the taste seemed bland compared with the pretty influencer presentation.
As a foodie friend recently remarked on my Instagram, in response to a certain photogenic Neo-Neapolitan I posted: “Just let pizza be pizza!”
Photograph by Growl Bros.
Photograph by Growl Bros.
In Inman Park, Lloyd’s owners Ian Jones and Caleb Wheelus are playing with that theory. After switching the Lloyd’s concept to pizza after the pandemic, they worked with pizzaiola pal Brendan Keenan to hone pie recipes that adhere to a classic American pizza concept. But they do borrow from Neo-Neapolitan with a diligent three-day cold fermentation of sourdough combined with a quick cook in a high-heat oven. They call it “New New York” pizza.
Facing seven pie choices, I stayed true to my 1970s inner child (a regular at Shakey’s Pizza) and ordered the 18-inch pepperoni pie. Simple yet somehow luxe, sprinkled with “crust dust,” with just the right blend of pep-spice, tomato, gooey cheese, and crispy-cushy dough, Lloyd’s pepperoni serves as a delectable and quite fitting Bronx cheer to trends.
Sometimes it’s okay to let pizza be pizza.
This article appears in our September 2025 issue.
Advertisement
Jamie Allen
Source link