Pappagone Pizzeria, Finsbury Park

5/10

Pappagone, an independent pizzeria in Finsbury Park, is an Italian 
peninsula boot to the face.

Even at 9pm, the time of our booking, the pizzeria was packed. It was 
so busy that we could not move to the bar; instead we stood like 
sardines in front of the entrance, and grimaced when more people wanted 
to come in. One customer, observing the multitude pushing and shouting 
to catch the barman’s attention, said she felt she was in a nightclub. 
She was right. Like its customers, who all seemed full, Pappagone 
needed to undo its belt and disgorge a few customers, so that these 
punters blocking the bar area, including my party of eight, could be 
seated.

At 9.15pm we were shown to our table. Most of the waiters at Pappagone 
were friendly, if slightly loud. But our waitress was incredibly rude 
and incompetent. She had little patience, missed orders and on several 
occasions failed to notice our desperate cries for her attention.

I had two starters, scallops and Melanzane alla Parmigiana. Both were 
edible. The scallops did not have that sear that one would expect in a 
restaurant, and needed a sauce. With the lack of sear, the greasy and 
mushy courgettes that accompanied them, the dish lacked texture and 
flavour. Similarly, the Melanzane was bland, lacking garlic and basil. 
Instead it was slathered in cheese. Having eaten at several pizzerias, 
it seems pizzeria chefs endorse the vain idea that ‘cheese will please’ 
– oodles of cheap parmesan will add flavour or at least hide the lack 
of it. The dish was one-dimensional, bearing a striking resemblance to 
those microwave meals one finds in a supermarket. We also ordered two 
garlic breads, which packed a garlic punch, but one was thin and 
crispy, as it should be, and the other burnt on the outside and soggy 
in the middle. Already, Pappagone is drowning in the puddle of 
abomination, the puddle of inconsistency, the puddle in the middle of 
its garlic bread.

Even less impressive was the calzone I ordered for main. It looked like 
a deflated rugby ball and tasted like one – I assure you that this is 
not an exaggeration and I also assure you that I’m not a man who makes 
a habit of eating rugby balls; I have never eaten a rugby ball but the 
comparison still stands. The calzone was mostly dough and had little 
filling and, with its stringy cheese and stubborn pepperoni, had a most 
unpleasant rubbery texture. I was not happy. I looked sideways at my 
father who seemed equally unhappy, and who seemed to be battling with 
the steak he had ordered. I am not sure who won. At the time, the 
steak, but given his toned jaw the next day, I am not so sure. Everyone 
else enjoyed their pizzas – the pizza polletto seemed most appealing, 
and I was told it tasted as good as it looked.

Pappagone’s food is slightly suspect, but its desserts are fantastic. I 
had banoffee pie with pistachio gelato (not ice-cream), which was 
absolutely divine. The gelato was as good as that in Italy, and the pie 
was heaven on a plate. The two made an award winning combination. The 
gelato is this pizzeria’s saving grace, it is creamy, rich and 
indulgent. I soon found out that the gelato, which is so good and 
authentic that it could be found in an Italian Gelateria, is actually 
imported from Italy. That the pizzeria orders it from Italy suggests 
that it is willing to go that extra mile for quality. I commend you 
Pappagone.

Equally great is the atmosphere (if slightly cramped), which lends 
Pappagone its charm. And the décor is pleasant, it does not move me, 
but it suffices.

On its website, Pappagone proclaims to be a ‘restaurant and pizzeria.’ 
One must never conflate the two, unless the food served in the 
establishment is restaurant quality, which usually is not the case. 
Pappagone serves Italian dishes to provide variety for customers. But 
the food it dishes up is just as expensive as that served in Italian 
restaurants. And its food is no better than the ‘chain restaurant,’ 
Bella Italia, lacking that all important Italian touch needed in an 
independent Italian restaurant.

Pappagone is a terrible ‘restaurant’ but a good, if inconsistent 
pizzeria. One goes there for a decent pizza, a great gelato and the 
buzzing atmosphere, but little else.