Contrary to popular belief, I don’t have a problem with non traditional pizzas, pineapple and this banana and pineapple abomination aside (seen on a menu on Flores in the Azores),

to which may reaction (in terms of the restaurant) was.

What I do rile against is the use of “authentic” or “traditional” when it is nothing of the sort. As such, on paper, I have no issue with Fizz ‘n’ Flour, a Canton based pizza place, with their mix of classic pizzas and their own somewhat more “off the wall” creations.

such as nacho chicken, duck’ n hell (a very off the wall crispy duck, candied chilli and hoisin number) and chicken tikka pizzas.

A pizza base is, after all, just a form of bread and as such you can put what you like on it (all I ask is just don’t call it a traditional/authentic neopolitano pizza if you do go off piste and Fizz ‘N’ Flour gratifyingly don’t with the strategic use of the word “style”). I personally wouldn’t order the nacho chicken, but fill your boots if that is your thing.

As an aside, it it just me or is it odd that the Fizz proceeds the Flour in this place’s name title when they have 20 odd pizzas on the menu and 3 sparklers on the wine list (less than the number- 7 – of their still wines)? Wouldn’t it make more sense to be the otherwise around (i.e. call it Flour ‘N’ Fizz)? My dyspraxic brain desperately wants me to write it as such, that is for sure.

Back to pizza, I like a margarita as it is always a good test of the pizza maker’s craft (with nowhere to hide). When, however, I feel the need for something a bit less classical I tend to default to the trusty pepperoni (an NYC rather than Italian classic).

Here, still yearning for a meat hit, I was drawn to the white base pizza (a rarity for me) and, wanting a bit of variety, dropped down to the, difficult for the pronounciationally challenged (like me),  Salcissia E. Friarielli.  Don’t tend to see friarielli (a slightly bitter leaf common in Naples) muxh over here and who doesn’t love a bit of, fennel heavy, Italian sausage. I was also rather intrigued by the use of smoked provolone.

On the topic of processed meat, which I think includes sausages, they seem to be rather in the dog house with our H&S overlords. Processed anything is bad apparently (an Iceland donna kebab pizza I get, but certainly not a pata negra jamon, a felino salami or a quality Italian sausage), but Countries with seemingly far healthier populations (Spain, France, Italy, Greece etc.) than ours have for eons eaten load of cured hams, salamis, sausages etc. with seemingly little negative effect (my view is the root of all food evil is brown bread – any place that makes a wholemeal pizza deserves to be immediately bulldozed).

Personally I think the term “processed” is too widely defined (misson creep is always a concern with H&S – don’t leave the house you could be hit by a meteor, best just hid under the bed for the next 20 years) and to be honest if eating a bit of salami or a sausage knocks 10 seconds off my life expectancy then so be it (suspect the stress of worrying about everything passing your lips and being bored rigid by the mung beans and aquafaba that does is a hell of a lot more detrimental to your heath than a little bit of sausage). I strongly suspect that the vegan shawarma and sausage on the menu here is far more processed than actual sharwama and sausage (with one probably lorded and the other certainly demonised by said H&S Overlords).

Anyhow I digress, so back to the menu and the matter at hand. Here you can have a prelude or adjunct to your pizza but, bar from perhaps the arancini, nothing really  appealed enough to warrant anything other than just a pizza.

I am not, particularly, a fan of carbs on carbs (find half and half just a little odd) and this wedges or anything breaded with a pizza is not a combo that appeals that much to me.

I, therefore, stuck to ordering just a pizza and what arrived from the singing slinger (he was not too out of tune to the Bowie and Queen soundtrack) was a fine looking beast

with a crisp, thin, base and bubbly interior.

A puffed up rim, like a muscle beach popinjay, was far from there for show only.

The toppings work really well, with the sweetness of the cherry tomatoes marrying well as against the light smokiness of the provolone and anis hit of the fennel rich sausage. The star of the show, however, was the friarielli. The slight almondy bitterness of this leaf paired really well with the sausage and provolone. Clever pizza this, with lots going on but nothing clashing or unduly dominating.

All very enjoyable I thought as I watch, from my window perch the, slightly cooky, Canton world wander by.

On the drinks front they have a short list. 

Not bad in terms of still wines to go with a pizza and I went for the chianti. Sangioviese is a classic pizza partner, but drinking the cheap stuff can be like swallowing a rasping, rusty toothed, saw.

Here I was pleasantly surprised by the house chianti (at £22 a bottle – about £9.50 retail so a very fair mark up) from La Vigna

Nothing too complex (I wouldn’t expect that at this price point), but still perfectly pleasant notes of cherry and raspberry and good acidity. Worked pretty well with my pizza. 

The fizz, as in part of the name, is limited to 3 options. I am not a huge fan of prosecco (not a huge fizz of any ilk and I much prefer the more classically made franciacorta on the rare occasions I do drink Italian bubbles), but the prices seem OK.

Verdict

With the rather sudden closure (lots more to come, I fear) of the Dough Thrower in Victoria Park, I have been looking for a replacement pizza joint in my neck of the woods.

West Pizza is great, but it is more a quick in and out sort of gaff rather than a leisurely pizza and glass of wine “but nothing too fancy” for an evening out sort of affair.

For the latter, Fizz ‘N’ Flour rather fits the bill nicely. 

The details

Address : 120 Cowbridge Road East, Canton, Cardiff, CF11 9DX

Website : https://fizznflour.co.uk/

Opening hours: