Don Mimi, Monkstown.

Paolo Tullio's Review

p>I mentioned a few weeks ago that my father had opened a pizzeria on Wicklow Street in the late 60s. How things have changed since then. Today, you can get a pizza in every fast-food outlet and at any supermarket chill counter. Hard to believe, but 40 years ago pizzas were virtually unknown in Ireland.

If your only experience of this classic Italian dish is here in Ireland, you could be forgiven for being unsure about what a pizza is supposed to be. Should it be deep pan? Thin and crisp? Covered with cheese? All kind of variants are out there, and they all call themselves pizzas.

I don't want to be a pedant, but here goes. Pizza dough is made with type 00 flour, fresh yeast, salt and olive oil. It has to be allowed to prove until it's stretchy, then it's pulled into its final shape. Not, you'll notice, rolled into shape, but pulled.

As for the toppings, in Italy there aren't very many and sweetcorn and pineapple are definitely not on the list. In Italian pizzerias you'll find Margherita, Capricciosa, Marinara, Frutti di mare, Quattro Stagioni and, occasionally, some local variation. Each one of these has universally agreed components.

The simplest of all is the Margherita, named in honour of Queen Margherita. It was invented in Naples in Pizzeria Brandi in 1889, and Pizzeria Brandi is still going strong. The newly established Italian nation had adopted a flag that was red, white and green, so the pizza Margherita has red tomatoes, white mozzarella and green basil leaves. There's an august body called the 'Associazione Verace Pizza Napoletana', which controls the quality of genuine Neapolitan pizzas and defines the ingredients that can be used.

It's a pity its remit doesn't run to Ireland, because some real abominations are on sale here under the name of 'pizza'. It annoys me that these classic pizza names can be hijacked, the ingredients bastardised, then the resulting execration marketed as an 'Italian pizza', when it clearly isn't. It's nothing less than misrepresentation.

Ten years ago, I wrote about a great-grandson of the founder of Pizzeria Brandi who was making pizzas in Dame Street. He's long gone now and I haven't had a great pizza since.

Now, here's a tale of bizarre synchronicity. I got a text from my friends Michael and Ciara telling me about a good pizza they'd eaten in Monkstown in Don Mimi. Two weeks later, I was driving back from City West with Marian Kenny to Dalkey when I suggested that we check out Don Mimi. As we pulled up outside the Purty Kitchen, two people got out of the car next to mine; it was Michael and Ciara. Now there's a cue for eerie music.

Don Mimi is tiny: there are two tables that could seat maybe six people between them and a counter against a wall with stools for another eight or so, which is where the four of us sat and ate.

The menu has 13 pizzas (including the dreaded pizza with pineapple) all priced between €8 and €12, as well as meat lasagna, vegetarian cannelloni and daily specials. Between us, we had two vegetarian cannelloni and two pizzas plus a remarkably good tiramisu. Everything about Don Mimi reminded me of Italy. For a start, on the night we were there it was full of Italians, not just in the kitchen and serving, but nearly every customer apart from us. It had the feel of what Italians call a 'pizzeria al taglio', normally small outlets that sell pizzas by the slice, a sort of Italian fast food for takeaway. An endless line of people were coming in to take pizzas away and why wouldn't they? All the pizzas here are 12 inches and the majority of them are €10 or less.

The most-prized pizzas in Italy are those that are cooked in a wood-fired oven. It adds an extra level of taste. Sadly, it's not possible in Ireland because our Health and Safety fascists have decided that it's too dangerous. Maybe they believe the Irish aren't as clever with fire as the Italians. These are the same people who won't let you eat unpasteurised cheese, farm eggs or rare burgers, so their contribution to gastronomy is entirely negative. How on Earth did we allow a bunch of interfering busy bodies control so much of our lives? I certainly never voted for it.

I often leave a restaurant wondering was I lucky. Perhaps I hit a good night. Well, I can confirm that Don Mimi is consistent. The next night, I'd arranged to meet Michael Colgan and his daughter, Sarah, who wants her wedding in Italy. I thought Don Mimi would make a good backdrop for our discussion on where and how this wedding could be arranged.

This time, three of us had pizzas and Michael had a couple of glasses of wine. We had mineral waters and coffees as well and the bill came to €42. Okay, you don't sit in comfort, there's no wine list as long as your arm, but the service is brisk and the pizzas are very good and inexpensive.

The pizzas here are as good as you're going to get in Ireland and I'm delighted that so simple a dish can now be found, made as it should be. I had just one reservation: a vegetarian pizza came with artichoke hearts that had been pickled. The taste of vinegar and pizzas don't go together, but, despite that, I know I'll be going back.