Simple is Best

Forty years ago, I learned from a wise Italian woman that the world is only made up of two kinds of people: those who eat in order to live, and those who live in order to eat.

I most definitely identify with the live to eat crowd. So when I get into a conversation with old friends (and first time encounters and everything in between), it doesn’t take long for me to start talking about food.

And a food I like to talk about a lot is pizza. I grew up in southern California, and the pizza I remember most was a simple pepperoni pizza my parents would make on a rectangular cookie sheet. My horizons have broadened since then. I’ve spent a lot of time in Italy, and of course will check out a place or two wherever I am visiting. In the States, I will do the same. I enjoy Chicago style, New York style, New Haven style. If in Phoenix, I have to go to Bianco. When in L.A., I will go to Mozza whenever possible. In the Bay Area, I like Delfina, Terun, a few others. I don’t have a favorite “style,” I just enjoy really good pizza.

But I do have my favorite pizza place in the world. In fact, in the midst of the COVID-19 pandemic, I am writing about pizza because I miss my favorite place so much. I’m talking about Frey’s Famous Pizzeria in Tokyo. When I tell this to people for the first time, the reaction I experience most frequently is a quizzical “you’ve got to be kidding me!” look. Then the question, “why?”

The punchline answer is simple is best. The longer answer involves understanding simple is not easy.

I had an apartment in Tokyo’s Akasaka-Roppongi Midtown neighborhood. One day walking back from my office to my apartment via my usual route, I passed a store front with Frey’s Famous Pizzeria printed on the window. As it was only a few minute walk from my apartment, I figured I should check it out when it was open.

I went back to it on a Saturday afternoon at about 6 p.m. When I walked in, I saw a counter with about eight stools. Along a wall were two small tables. An espresso machine was near the front, and looming in the back was a wood burning oven that looked like a repurposed firebox from a steam locomotive. I was the only customer at the time that night and thinking that might not be a good sign, I tried not to get my hopes up too high.

Simple is Best was printed on the t-shirt worn by Yamaguchi san, the owner and chef. The menu was quite simple: three choices, Marinara, Margherita, and Bianca. My go-to pizza for a benchmark test is Margherita (side note: for Mexican food it is a chile relleno). I had the best seat in the house (and the only occupied one), sitting at the counter stool in front of the assembly area for pizzas. I watched him prepare. Everything Yamaguchi san did was the epitome of calm and focus. Carefully turning the dough ball into a pie, spreading the house made sauce, crumbling and placing the mozzarella and basil leaves just so, drizzling on some olive oil. Into the oven, focus shifted to picking the right spot on the oven floor, turning the pie to even the baking, raising the pie to get some smoke and char. So much work packed into about two minutes of assembly and eighty seconds of cooking. After my first bite, I smiled. After my second, third, and to the last bite, I smiled, and told myself, this is the best pizza I have had anywhere in the world. Two days later, I tried to go back but Frey’s was booked solid.

That was ten years ago and I’d guess about 400 visits and maybe 700 pizzas ago. Over the years, Yamaguchi san has added seasonal specials, and the standard menu lists about five types. And it remains the best pizza I have eaten anywhere. Why? Because simple is best means caring. Caring about which ingredients to use. Caring about air temperature and humidity. Caring about the preparation. Caring about each step as the most important and only thing you are doing at that time. Caring that the last pie of the night is made with the same focus and thoughtfulness as the first. All that caring is what elevates the simple flour, salt, yeast, water, and a few toppings into perfection on a plate.

I’ve gotten to know Yamaguchi san pretty well over the years and I have had the pleasure of introducing many friends to his mastery. I don’t know if they would all agree it is their choice for best pizza in the world, but I do believe they would agree simple is best is a good philosophy, and a good recipe for a tasty pizza. If you happen to be in Tokyo, stop by and tell them Steve sent you. Or, if I’m lucky, I’ll be the guy sitting at the oven end of the counter.