Rocca Pizzeria
A new neighborhood pizza joint to suit Neapolitan cravings
More than most, I know what I'm missing by not having had pizza in Naples. My husband was a Navy brat and spent seven of his formative years in Naples and Sicily. He came back for college in 2008 with many fond experiences and few chances to relive them, as there's not as much intersection between South Louisiana and Italy as he'd like. There are the exuberant friends he made overseas who traveled from far and wide to attend our wedding two years ago. There's his family's former landlord, Filippo, who came to New Orleans for a visit once and helpfully assigned each fish at the Audubon Aquarium with a recipe ("Thees one, a leetle olive hoil, a leetle leemon.") And there are the handful of pizza joints he considers reminiscent enough of the pies he rapturously ate abroad.
We've been eyeing the new Rocca Pizzeria, opened by Lit Pizza's Ozzie Fernandez and Gary Kovacs, since the logo was first traced on the side of the Government Street building. But it wasn't until earlier this week, when the restaurant shared a shot of a thin, almost burnt crust; pockets of air dimpling the dough; and a runny egg still sizzling in the center that Andy allowed himself to get excited. (The fact that Chef Alon Shaya, formerly of Domenica and Pizza Domenica as well as Shaya, was said to be consulting on the menu didn't hurt either.)
We went tonight, and we'll go again. Garlic knots brought back a memory for me, of the soft yeast rolls in my elementary school cafeteria. The knots are lightly fried and drizzled with chimichurri oil, with whipped provolone to dip and a swarm of minced, fresh garlic. I would have appreciated none of that in fourth grade—I was a "plain for me, thanks" kind of gal—but I certainly do now.
For the pizzas, we went with The Iverstine (salami, andouille, red onion, sharp provolone, local honey) and The Prosciutto (burrata, mozzarella, arugula), with The Prosciutto winning out as both our favorites. (The Iverstine was no slouch but could have done with more spice to counterbalance the honey.)
There's an assured but not arrogant quality to Rocca right off the bat, a soothing confidence that extends from the service to the food. The menu is restrained (seven red pies, four white; a range of antipasti; two salads; dessert) and equal territory is devoted to the food and the drinks. It could suit for a first date or even family pizza night. (Never fear, there is just pepperoni.)
I've heard my husband's Italian memories for years, and we absolutely have to go eventually (though he says he's permanently sick of Pompeii). But when it comes to Neapolitan pizza cravings, with Rocca Pizzeria down the road I think we'll hold off renewing our passports for a little while longer.