A relaxing NAP? Well...
Pro Italian-style pizzas at good prices.
Con Pandemic pizzeria pandemonium.
Pay
€€
Per Person €19 Shared: starter, beer, bottle of Montepulciano. Solo: Pizza. Gratis: niente.
Find
Website https://www.instagram.com/nap_official/ No bookings, no personal takeaways.
🛈 Dietary Info Limited info on menu.
Access Step free entry.
In Short
Hopes. Reputation and past experience to live up to.
Reality. It feels like Naples. Possibly on volcano day.
First Impressions. Dinner on the Death Star.
USP? Some very Italian (but on this visit very doughy) pizza.
The offer in three words. Dough, did, doughne.
Service! A very helpful chap kept track of things when one of us was delayed arriving.
Friend friendly? V-options easy to achieve.
Rating for dating. It's just too manic for most, we suspect.
Tip? As you pay on exit, it's practically undoable.
Change one thing? Deliver us from delivery riders.
Revisitability. Low.
Compare & Contrast
Menomale's offer is less full-on.
In Pictures
On Google Images
What's the story?
NAP's third Madrid outlet looks to build on the ultra-successful back-to-basics approach, with those distinctive multi colour murals on hand too. Unfortunately, the strains of chain-stretching are showing.
So, where to begin?
Food. Lots of excellent ingredients are used throughout. We kicked off with tomato-seasoned provolone and, aside from being a smidge smaller than you might expect, it was delicious, served with some very tasty, freshly oiled bread. Pretty much the ideal November appetiser.
The full-size pizzas, authentically overlapping the plate rims, are, mostly, excellently topped. The tomato's not the the thickest, but it retains the juicy freshness you'd hope for from Italian pizza. The salami in the calzone had bite. Only the york ham on the Quattro Stagione felt mass-produced. Even then it was stripped, so the flavour was brightened. Cheese was great too, and, heaven be praised, on the QS it was a topping not a layer. We like that a lot. So where are the superlatives? Everything seems to be going swimmingly, does it not?
Not if the pizzas are underdone, it doesn't.
The masa in use is excellently tasty (although judging by the litres of water we spent the rest of the evening downing, the salt quotient's not low), but a Calzone shouldn't have raw dough in the centre and the filling shouldn't be little more than lukewarm. The QS was just about done, but failed the proper pizza test; can you cut it and then eat it by hand? That's what pizza was invented for. Even with the crust, there was no crunch or solidity. The cheese probably needed maybe another minute's melting time.
Of course, it's a matter of seconds between undercooked, done and burnt. But if that's your USP you've no option but to get it right. There's no nearly. So ut's a disappointment. Still, we enjoyed the quality even if could be brilliant was never far away from our minds. Portion size is entirely authentic, so with only two fairly unmemorable - from past experience - desserts on offer, we retired, fairly full, after the mains. So great ingredients, good prep, but the cooking didn't serve them to their best. We have a theory on the reasons.
Atmosphere. God, if you're not sitting in the back room it's stressful. Waiters, some industrious, others bemused (Did I want an ice bucket for red wine?), zoom around, frequently narrowly avoiding collisions that would cover diners in beer, pizza or both. With no reservations, a scrum of wannabe-diners argue table allocations, waiting lists and mobile numbers with staff. This is all going on as a constant stream of helmeted delivery riders, looking like pizza-obsessed Star Wars stormtroopers (bet they're after ham, solo), hurry in and out. Sometimes half a dozen are waiting, so, bizarrely, it verges on the intimidating. Confoundingly, NAP were adamant on the phone that we couldn't pop in and pick up an order ourselves (as we'd planned, based on friends' past experience at another branch). In any event, they're overrun dealing with the empire's finest, all via the same service.
The Bottom line. This should be the best pizzeria in Malasaña. But quality ingredients count for less than they should because visiting is about as relaxing as wrestling with six seasick squirrels in a sack. If you enjoy chaos, noise and bustle, this is your place, but it looks like someone's trying to squeeze the maximum out of every second that oven is lit, regardless of compromises. Solutions? A ghost kitchen for the online orders. Take reservations. One or both would let the chefs show off their skills better and, simply, calm. Things. Down. As it is, at least around the entrance and cooking area, it's stressingly brusque, thrashingly hectic. When it comes to the food, they're trying, but the quality's suffering.
Meanwhile, in that galaxy far far away, a certain character has something to say about authentic pizza.
Service 🟊🟊🟊🟊 Environs 🟊🟊 Food 🟊🟊🟊
Pro Italian-style pizzas at good prices.
Con Pandemic pizzeria pandemonium.
Pay
€€
Per Person €19 Shared: starter, beer, bottle of Montepulciano. Solo: Pizza. Gratis: niente.
Find
Website https://www.instagram.com/nap_official/ No bookings, no personal takeaways.
🛈 Dietary Info Limited info on menu.
Access Step free entry.
In Short
Hopes. Reputation and past experience to live up to.
Reality. It feels like Naples. Possibly on volcano day.
First Impressions. Dinner on the Death Star.
USP? Some very Italian (but on this visit very doughy) pizza.
The offer in three words. Dough, did, doughne.
Service! A very helpful chap kept track of things when one of us was delayed arriving.
Friend friendly? V-options easy to achieve.
Rating for dating. It's just too manic for most, we suspect.
Tip? As you pay on exit, it's practically undoable.
Change one thing? Deliver us from delivery riders.
Revisitability. Low.
Compare & Contrast
Menomale's offer is less full-on.
In Pictures
On Google Images
What's the story?
NAP's third Madrid outlet looks to build on the ultra-successful back-to-basics approach, with those distinctive multi colour murals on hand too. Unfortunately, the strains of chain-stretching are showing.
So, where to begin?
Food. Lots of excellent ingredients are used throughout. We kicked off with tomato-seasoned provolone and, aside from being a smidge smaller than you might expect, it was delicious, served with some very tasty, freshly oiled bread. Pretty much the ideal November appetiser.
The full-size pizzas, authentically overlapping the plate rims, are, mostly, excellently topped. The tomato's not the the thickest, but it retains the juicy freshness you'd hope for from Italian pizza. The salami in the calzone had bite. Only the york ham on the Quattro Stagione felt mass-produced. Even then it was stripped, so the flavour was brightened. Cheese was great too, and, heaven be praised, on the QS it was a topping not a layer. We like that a lot. So where are the superlatives? Everything seems to be going swimmingly, does it not?
Not if the pizzas are underdone, it doesn't.
The masa in use is excellently tasty (although judging by the litres of water we spent the rest of the evening downing, the salt quotient's not low), but a Calzone shouldn't have raw dough in the centre and the filling shouldn't be little more than lukewarm. The QS was just about done, but failed the proper pizza test; can you cut it and then eat it by hand? That's what pizza was invented for. Even with the crust, there was no crunch or solidity. The cheese probably needed maybe another minute's melting time.
Of course, it's a matter of seconds between undercooked, done and burnt. But if that's your USP you've no option but to get it right. There's no nearly. So ut's a disappointment. Still, we enjoyed the quality even if could be brilliant was never far away from our minds. Portion size is entirely authentic, so with only two fairly unmemorable - from past experience - desserts on offer, we retired, fairly full, after the mains. So great ingredients, good prep, but the cooking didn't serve them to their best. We have a theory on the reasons.
Atmosphere. God, if you're not sitting in the back room it's stressful. Waiters, some industrious, others bemused (Did I want an ice bucket for red wine?), zoom around, frequently narrowly avoiding collisions that would cover diners in beer, pizza or both. With no reservations, a scrum of wannabe-diners argue table allocations, waiting lists and mobile numbers with staff. This is all going on as a constant stream of helmeted delivery riders, looking like pizza-obsessed Star Wars stormtroopers (bet they're after ham, solo), hurry in and out. Sometimes half a dozen are waiting, so, bizarrely, it verges on the intimidating. Confoundingly, NAP were adamant on the phone that we couldn't pop in and pick up an order ourselves (as we'd planned, based on friends' past experience at another branch). In any event, they're overrun dealing with the empire's finest, all via the same service.
The Bottom line. This should be the best pizzeria in Malasaña. But quality ingredients count for less than they should because visiting is about as relaxing as wrestling with six seasick squirrels in a sack. If you enjoy chaos, noise and bustle, this is your place, but it looks like someone's trying to squeeze the maximum out of every second that oven is lit, regardless of compromises. Solutions? A ghost kitchen for the online orders. Take reservations. One or both would let the chefs show off their skills better and, simply, calm. Things. Down. As it is, at least around the entrance and cooking area, it's stressingly brusque, thrashingly hectic. When it comes to the food, they're trying, but the quality's suffering.
Meanwhile, in that galaxy far far away, a certain character has something to say about authentic pizza.
Dough, or dough not. There is no try.
Service 🟊🟊🟊🟊 Environs 🟊🟊 Food 🟊🟊🟊
