There’s not a food experience that has let me down quite as much as this pizza. Even without the all Netflix hype, I wanted this to be good. Bianco makes some of the best canned tomatos around, and at 1/3 of the pizza, it was geared for success. I could not have been so wrong. The dough was genuinely depressive, the mutz hadn’t melted properly and was honestly tasteless. I’ve had a lot of great pizzas, and eaten my way through the greatest in Naples, to call this Neapolitan is a sad joke. It makes me sad to say that. Maybe the OG location is better, but how can the apple fall that far from the tree.