"Ciao, I'm Nonno Tony. Let Me Tell You A Little Secret..."
For sixty-two years, pizza has been the rhythm of my life. I was born in the Rione Sanità, one of the oldest, loudest, and most passionate neighborhoods in Naples, Italy.
My grandfather Salvatore had hands like shovels, dusted in flour from dawn till dusk. By the time I was seven years old, I was standing on an overturned wooden tomato crate, rolling dough between my palms until it was as soft as a baby’s cheek.
When my sweet wife Lucia and I sailed across the Atlantic to start our American life decades ago, people told me: "Tony, you will never make real Neapolitan pizza in America. You don't have the Vesuvius soil. You don't have the 900-degree wood ovens."
Mamma mia, what nonsense! For forty years, I baked pizzas right beside Lucia in our Brooklyn apartment kitchen using a regular Sears gas range that barely reached 500 degrees Fahrenheit. And our pies made neighbors weep tears of joy.
In The Dream Pizzas Method, I share every secret I learned across six decades. No fluff. No pretension. Just the pure, honest joy of pulling a blistered, fragrant, crispy masterpiece out of your own oven.
