A FUNNY thing happened on our way for a curry ... it turned into a pizza instead.
Finding no room at the inn for our first choice, we fell back on this ever-popular and always welcoming eatery on the corner of Summer Street for a bite to eat.
Mind you, it was a close run thing seeing as it was packed to the rafters.
But a friendly waitress took our names, had us come back 15 minutes later – via a trip to a local hostelry – and we were shown straight to our table.
Funnily enough, for all that the place was jumping, there was still a calm, laid-back – but extremely efficient – air about the place.
Now, the menu at Pizza Express is an ever-changing, always evolving affair, so it always requires a close read – even if you do end up back with old favourites.
I mean, who can resist a porcini mushroom risotto (£4.95) for a starter? Not me, that’s for sure, especially since my recent attempt to make one gave me a renewed respect for the labour of love involved in ladling stock and stirring rice for the better part of an hour.
Pizza Express’ version is a masterclass in how to make a rich, creamy, savoury dish guaranteed to make you go “mmmm” on the first mouthful, then keep digging in until the moreish, gooey plateful is gone.
Mrs B and I have similar tastes in pizza bases – that deep pan stuff is the devil’s work.
Romana pizzas, though, are as thin as a thin thing and delicious to boot.
Still craving some spice, I decided the Etna (£9.65) would do the trick, with its promise of hot Calabrian salami, roquito peppers and smoked speck ham.
It delivered the big fiery attack I was looking for, leaving my mouth tingling, with a riot of flavours and textures delivered on a base that was light and delicate.
Meanwhile, Mrs B was nodding and yumming over her Pollo Panceta (£9.65).
It was heaped with the tenderest chicken breast, smokiest pancetta and soft, sweet roasted yellow peppers.
Using a pepperonata sauce base – made with red and yellow peppers instead of tomato – lifted this into a league of its own.
Not that I’ll know unless I go back, because Mrs B wasn’t sending any across to my side of the table.
Now, I don’t know about you, but often I resent the cost of a pizza.
It can fairly mount up for what is, essentially, some dough and a bit of topping.
But this feast was worth every single penny of the total bill – £32.75, including a Peroni and a low-alcohol lager.
Hot stuff, indeed.