It has been a while since I last raved about food. The shift in focus since I jumpship from the bosphorus to the thames lies in the fact that good music (and art and design) is cheaper than good food in London. But being in Brixton revived back my culinary curiosity.

So upon hearing that one of London’s best pizza lies a few feet away from my doorstep, I’ve taken the liberty to splurge a bit more.

At Franco Manca,

The legend has it that Franco is the name of the guy who set it up and Manca means ‘he’s not here anymore’ so the last thing you want to ask is ‘where is Franco?’. Never piss a chef off, before your meal at least.

clockwise: four-cheese special & salami, cured-organic-chorizo & mozzarella, wild mushroom-garlic & anchovy-cheeseless.

upclose & personal

The french argued that i should visit her in Paris, apparently it’s nothing compared to what she has in her ghetto. Then again, she’s french.

With a logo that reminds me of my wiggling pen, and an 8-inch averaging at five quid, I have no complains, the type of pizza I would have for Sunday breakfast.

See menu here.

This entry was posted on Friday, April 17th, 2009 at 3:47 am and is filed under art on my plate. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.