Stefano Manfredi stirs up Rooty Hill’s Italian scene with Pizzaperta
REVIEW: Stefano Manfredi, the godfather of Australia’s Italian food scene, has traded the inner city for way out west with Pizzaperta at West HQ and the pizza ticks all the right boxes.
Sydney Taste
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Tasmania has its Bottom Fancy. New Jersey has its Cherry Hill. And NSW? Well, when it comes to naughty place names it’s hard to go past our own Rooty Hill.
But The Mouth hasn’t taken a trip west to titter at a place name. Instead, he’s come to sample the pizza. Specifically the Pizzaperta at West HQ — aka Rooty Hill RSL.
Yes, we’re out in pokie country. Did you know the Clubmaster was released in 1956, the same year poker machines were legalised in NSW? You will, once you sign in and head past the exhibition of vintage slots.
Get past all the bells and whistles, though, and you’ll find none other than Stefano Manfredi whipping up pies. Yes, that Manfredi, the godfather of Australia’s Italian food scene — not in the horse’s head sense, thankfully — has traded the inner city for way out west.
So, what’s the deal with Pizzaperta, The Mouth hears you asking. We’re going all this way to have a margarita pie in an RSL food court?
Well, yeah.
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There’s no getting around the fact it’s a bit of a Mediterranean courtyard tucked into casual dining complex vibe. Service is friendly, but if it’s busy you’ve got to fetch your own food when the buzzer goes off — a pet peeve of The Mouth that almost had us turning around and heading for the M4.
But don’t let that put you off. The pizza is really, really good. Because, while it’s going to sound like a cliche, it really does come down to the right ingredients. Manfredi has all the good stuff. The right flour. The right tomatoes. Plump, sweet, anchovies from Sicily.
And then there’s the crust. Too often in Sydney, we’re treated to faux-authentic Neapolitan pies that are as soggy as the concrete pour on the latest apartment tower to make the headlines.
That is where Manfredi’s pizza really sings. The crust has a bit of “crack” (surely there is a more elegant Italian word, but this will have to do) to it, a proper bite that gives way
to a gentle softness.
A simple margarita passes the test with the right balance of cheese and sauce, and from there it’s all about the classics. A Sicilian with those fat anchovies. Another with a spicy 'nduja.
You get the idea.
Dessert is tiramisu — of course — served individually, and perhaps a bit dense. But washed down with a Birra Rock and Roll, a beauty of an Italian attempt at an American lager, who cares?