Tuesday, October 12, 2010

Nestor’s Pizzeria Fridays: 4 Formaggio & Radicchio

One of the reasons we originally fell in love with this particular area (there are many, many others, scenic and gastronomic and artistic and more) was due to a pizzeria we visited the last night of our original vacation here with Seattle pals Jeremy and Megan. It was and is called Pizzeria Nestor’s, or Nestor’s Pizzeria, and we sat outside (it was summer) and had what I believe is some of the finest, if not the finest, pizzas in the world. But the delicious pizzas weren’t the sole reason for loving Nestor’s so much: the family that owns it is also incredibly nice, friendly, and welcoming (even to Americans who stumble around the Italian language like they were afraid of it). Because of this combination, we’ve stopped into Nestor’s at least once, and sometimes twice, each time we’ve returned to the area. When moving here, having relatively close access to Nestor’s (if not living on its roof) was a main desirable—we wanted to be able to go at least once a week. We ended up 20 minutes away (or less, depending on who is driving and how badly they need to use the loo), which means we may not go every week, but plan on stopping in fairly regularly. And on Fridays, because that seems the right day, as Nestor’s is both pizzeria and birreria: a pizza and beer joint, which is a rarity here. I probably won’t post on the Fridays we visit, but will entitle all the Nestor’s posts the same, so you can follow our pizza adventures easily.

Our first stop there happened our first Friday here (the day after we arrived, or last Friday). I had, after much deliberation, a pizza I’d never tried before, the 4 Formaggio & Radicchio. And as I’d expected, it was delish, with cheese oozing all over the place--but not making the crust soggy--and lovingly bitter sparks of radicchio announcing themselves every other bite (and excuse the slightly blurry pic--I was shaking from excitement):
Nat had the Venezina, which was another new one for us, and also a masterpiece of choice ingredients (in her case, onion and parsley), crisp crust, and cheese. Knowing how to balance out the ingredients, so they each get to shine instead of amalgamating into one tasteless mess, is one reason real Italian pizza is so good:
Oh, I almost forgot (and I certainly don’t want to forget—there’s no need for getting any appetizers mad at me), we started with Bruschetta Verde, which again had that balance of taste and texture mentioned above: here it was salty pecorino, tart roket, toasted bread, and olive oil:
Salute Nestor’s!


  1. I do fondly recall the hot 'n' spicy Diavolo pizza at Nestor's. That was some good eatin'.

  2. I often wish I knew how to say it Italian "remove the sausage, but keep the spice" so I could have that very pizza pally.

  3. Please bring one back for me. Please.