Authenticity is a loaded word in cooking, a shibboleth that confounds the uninitiated. It is the subjective stuff of myth, respect, pride, and entire days spent suffering fear and doubt over slow braises, crusts and stocks. Insecure cultures are buttressed by it. Organizations are founded to protect it. Restaurants are launched to exhibit it. And with so many cooks trembling with anxiety on account of it (while reaching for it), theres no end of revealing that the overwhelming majority of diners remain completely unmoved by it.
A visit to on East Broadway last week got me thinking along such lines. The owner, Terry Deane, couldnt boast of his Italian heritage on his menu or declare that Italian food is in my DNA like one of his less modest competitors; his sauce is made from Californian plum tomatoes instead of those from San Marzano; his crust is a couple of millimeters thicker than what most lonely purists would tolerate; he doesnt use buffalo mozzarella, the prized cheese of pizza fetishists; and he uses a garish, Ferrari-red gas oven instead of one that burns wood. The nerve!
If Deanes pizza was bad, the paragraph above would be a lazy indictment, but its very good, and we shouldnt be all that surprised. It was Deane who launched Abbottsfords popular Ah-Beetz pizzeria in 2008, and word of his prowess has long been whispered in awe and envy among Vancouvers food geeks. In Abbottsford, he was something of a revered legend; a pizzaiolo without local equal; a one-man powerhouse who made every pizza not to mention many of the ingredients himself. Thankfully, little has changed at Barbarella.
Hed long wanted to bring his skills to Vancouver. When he found the spot on East Broadway in the Fraserhood last summer, he pounced. The address formerly home to a sketchy restaurant called Fortune Happiness had been off the radar ever since the summer of 2007 when it was the scene of a late-night gang shooting that killed two and wounded six.
Deane gutted the place, gave it a new concrete floor and used reclaimed wood from East Hastings demolished Pantages Theatre to make all the table tops and short bar. He named it Barbarella after his mother, who passed away just a couple of years ago. (The walls are lined with photographs of her). Its stark and somewhat dark with a lot of open space, and though it still isnt licensed to serve alcohol (Very soon, I hope! Deane says), it definitely has a pulse. The room fills quickly each night.
Deane is a big guy hard to miss at the front of the open kitchen where he towers over his station working the dough, concentrating over toppings, and spinning to and from his 800F oven with his long-handled wooden pizza peel in hand.
The menu is all pizza, save for a few token but tasty salads. (They plate a thoroughly dressed Caesar thatll keep you in breath mints for a while). Ive tried four of his eight pies, and Im happy to report that authenticity need not apply. Deanes crusts have a nice chew to them, and they retain both warmth and firmness for more than five minutes (the edges have a high temperature char similar to pizzas made in the Neapolitan style). The difference between his sauce and those at our best pizzerias is negligible (note that only the especially freakish would be able to tell the difference between one made with Californian tomatoes and another made with those from San Marzano). As for cheese, he used to make his own mozzarella at Ah-Beetz (and may do again), but for now hes happy to experiment, mixing fresh mozzarella with aged mozzarella, and always with a finishing dust of parmigiano reggiano.
The basic Margherita just sauce, mozzarella, basil and olive oil is always a fine barometer and Deanes was bang on. The Salsiccia which is essentially a Margherita with punchy, pickled yellow peppers and chunks of mellow fennel sausage that Deane makes himself was excellent; it is on an equal footing with the comparable Finocchiona pie at Farina on Main (one of my favourite Â鶹´«Ã½Ó³»pizzas). The Amatriciana had welcome kicks to it with the addition of chili flakes and red onion, and I appreciated that Deane wasnt skimping on the pancetta, which he also makes himself. But my favourite was the Cavolini, which was as beautiful to behold as it was to consume. Think smoked pancetta, mozzarella, and a load of fresh garlic topped with a scatter of bright green brussels sprout leaves glistening with extra virgin olive oil. Fantastic!
These were each pizzas with presence, the products of an individual who has found his vocation and is happy to further find that he excels at it. His pies might be scoffed at by the gatekeepers of the Vera Pizza Napoletana (the association that certifies authentic pizzerias), but who cares? If its good, thats all that matters. As Deane says himself, I just want to make pizza the way I like it. By all means, please continue.
654 East Broadway | 604-210-6111 | PizzeriaBarbarella.com
