Until very recently, I thought London’s biggest pizza was made by King’s Pizza of Caledonian Road, which sells its wares – not so much pizzas as great wagonwheels of solid heart disease – at £10 a go. At 18″ across, they offer pretty good value – financially if not nutritionally – although, regrettably, no actual taste.
I have, however, been grossly misinformed, because there is a pizza out there not only bigger – by a whole two inches – but thinner, tastier and just all round a million miles less shit. Feast your eyes upon this…
Never mind the enormous man made even more enormous by the curiously diminutive beer mug – that is one monster-ass beast of a pizza. Clearly, they’re made for sharing (though the waitress did say she’d seen people take down the whole thing alone – presumably with a harpoon), so Homeslice’s 50/50 topping policy is a good one. Ours was half pulled beef brisket and half salami, rocket and Parmesan. The beefy side was slathered in a rich BBQ base and stringy, gooey mozzerella, strewn with loosely torn chunks of slow-cooked meat, as though a pre-seasoned cow had suddenly exploded and scattered the perimeter with its beefy debris. It was was a Domino’s pizza would be if it gave up drugs and got its shit together.
That said, the salami side actually won us over with its simplicity. We’d just come back from Italy, where the majority of the food is uncomplicated and delicious, and this side was much more authentic. The fresh, piquant tomato sauce stole the show, supported with a winning cast of crisp, peppery rocket, salami and ultra-thin base cooked just a few minutes previously in a wood-fired oven.
This was all washed down with £5 bottles of craft beer and £4.50 glasses of Frizzante Classico, which is very much like prosecco but less fizzy. They have it on tap and the person who poured mine was clearly in a generous mood…not that I was complaining.
Homeslice doesn’t go in for a lot of tableware; I presume they couldn’t find room in their little kitchen for a dishwasher because the plates are paper and the flatware non-existent. I hate using my hands to eat, so if you’re anal about using fingers too, perhaps consider taking your own knife and fork. 😉
Each pizza costs £20, though a few flavours are available at £4/slice. This doesn’t really seem in the spirit of the enterprise though, and they’ll wrap up your leftovers for lunch the next day, so there’s really no excuse not to order the full Monty.
The only fly in the ointment is that everyone who knows about Homeslice goes there often but because the pizzas are so fantastic (and, of course, Instagrammably enormous), and the place is rammed. This was the situation at 7:30pm on a Sunday:
To avoid queuing, which I am all about, because waiting more than ten minutes for food makes me cranky, I’d recommend visiting for some kind of lunch/dinner hybrid between 2:30pm – 5:30pm. (I was invited by the restaurant so got to skip the queue, but normally they don’t take reservations.) Alternatively, they do do call-backs, so you can drop in to leave your name and adjourn to one of the many surrounding watering holes, such as Le Beaujolais or cafe-cum-cocktail bar Freud. OR, even better, head to Wells Street, Fitzrovia, where a brand new, larger restaurant is opening in a few weeks. I’ve got high hopes; as long as they keep rolling out those 20″ beasts, they’ll be just fine.
Homeslice, 13 Neal’s Yard, London WC2H 9DP.
Author: Emily Gibson
Emily is an urban adventurer, blogger and
glutton foodie on an epic quest to uncover the best things to eat, drink and do in London. She lives in Islington and loves ceviche, cycling and magic shows. Lifelong nemeses include beetroot, beards and wine served in tumblers.