Pizzeria da Tigre in Nishi-ku, Osaka

After trying so many other pizza shops in Osaka, we stopped in to try the somewhat famous Pizzeria da Tigre in Osaka.  After all, if it’s the Michelin Recommended pizza in Osaka, perhaps this is good stuff?  However, I did not have an especially good pizza that night, and the whole experience taught me something about the “Michelin” designation.

As I knew I wanted to try Pizzeria da Tigre, I tried to make a reservation, assuming there was something rare, and scarce to sign up for – but da Tigre doesn’t take reservations, and you wouldn’t need one anyways, because it is not particularly crowded.  And that is your first clue about what to expect.

The night I took these pictures, there was a Ferrari parked out front (now, I assume that was a coincidence). The classic bike parked up on the sidewalk added to the curb appeal. But, as you peak through the windows, you can see – there was basically nobody in the place.

Walking in the door, when I saw that payment was made through a vending machine, my expectation for something special evaporated.

It is possible to have a great experience at a restaurant that uses a “shokken” (食券 – “food ticket”) style system, but I’ll argue it’s usually a bad sign; there is a lack of personal attention in a system that tries to separate the people from the food in a dining experience.  While that might be fine for a quick lunch spot, it’s cold, and impersonal, and makes me wonder how it receives a “Recommendation” from Michelin? While I like the ticket system more than the alien QR-code (or table-side tablet) for ordering, this is exactly the kind of thing that puts a restaurant in the “fast/cheap” category – and that may be an appropriate way to see Pizzeria da Tigre.

Jumping right to the point: The pizza is basically “average;” it’s edible, affordably priced, but completely unremarkable. It won’t make our list of the best pizza in Osaka (not even the top five).  The experience does open my eyes to the problem with “reviews” in general, and was a first-hand introduction to anemic value of a Michelin “Recommendation” in particular.

Let’s show you the pies.

The pictures show a perfectly fine looking pizza.  You can tell these are genuine pizzas, and not some “creative” recasting of pizza (like when the Japanese try to put sauce on a tortilla, bake it, and call it “pizza” – and that happens.)  Pictures can’t necessarily communicate flavor, but if these pizza’s look a little non-special, I can confirm that is indeed the case.

There are at least a half-dozen choices on the Pizzeria da Tigre pizza menu, including the ubiquitous Margherita and Quattro-formaggi (which are absolutely everywhere in Japan). We wanted to try at least two different pizzas, so we choose the Capricciosa (bacon and olives), and the “star-shaped” Attilio pizza (with Ricotta cheese stuffed into pocket in the crust), which looks genuinely tempting to me (even now).

When you walk in, the restaurant is either too bright, or too uninteresting to be that bright.  The vibe was quiet, almost lonely.  Pizzeria da Tigre choice to disregard any human connection as you arrive (no wait staff, no host) makes it even less inviting.  I was underwhelmed, but…

I was hungry.  And some exceptional pizza – and some beer – sounded wonderful.

We sat at the counter, and handed over our meal tickets; two tickets for the pizza, and a separate ticket for a tall Sapporo beer and a glass of wine.  (They were collect as if we were boarding a bus.)  We sat by the counter, our drinks arrived, and we watched as the pizzas were assembled.

I think the nicest thing I could say about these pizzas (and this style of pizza, in general), is that they were “fast.”  Neapolitan style pizzas do come together fast, as they sit in the oven for usually just a few minutes.  That is true for all Napolitano style pizzas, regardless of quality.  There are exceptional Naples-style pizzas in Osaka, with much more flavor, that are also served quickly.

For my part, I had a look at that Attilio pizza, and I was genuinely excited about it.

The shape of the crust is novel, but functional. The crust starts off round, and is cut, packed with Ricotta cheese, and folded over.  I had never seen this kind of pizza before I came to Japan, but I had eaten several truly fantastic Attilio pizzas in Japan before (several times, in a now defunct pizza place, in Sapporo Japan).

As I had a chance to taste the Attilio pizza at Pizzeria da Tigre it was… really mediocre.  For comparison, in my opinion, a typical pepperoni pizza delivered to my door would have been a been a better experience (and I don’t particularly like standard, pepperoni pizza).

There was nothing note worthy about da Tigre’s pizza.  And the crust, in particular, was a disappointment.  Not the Ricotta-stuffed aspects of the crust (which were fine, but also not particularly grand), but the overall flavor was not great.  And it was stretched so thin (and perhaps too over-watered with olive oil), that is almost dissolved as as I pulled a slice out… all of the toppings sliding off the slice and onto the plate.  This was distinctly “knife and fork” pizza, and a basically flavorless rendition, even then. Pass.

I tried some of the Capricciosa, and it was basically the same; edible, it is definitely real pizza, but I knew I would never come back.  And it left me curious: What on earth could make this “Michelin” recognized? While the perceived prestige of that famous guide brought me in the door, my experience with their endorsement soured any ideas I had about their authority. I was instantly disappointed on two counts: by la Tigre and by Michelin.

In addition to Michelin, Osaka’s Pizza da Tigre also wants you to know they have won “50 Top Pizza” distinction (for Asia). I have personally eaten at so many other pizza places in Osaka, none of which beat-on about awards. I wonder if the owner has gone out of his way to accumulate “designations” instead of creating a great experience?

“The remarkable foresight of the founding Michelin brothers has given the company a vocation that is as relevant today as it was in 1900 – namely, to make driving, tourism and the search for unforgettable experiences available to all.”
— From the Michelin Guide website

The name Michelin originally comes from a tire company; and what does that even have to do with good food?  Having grown up in America, I had the experience of seeing “The Michelin Man” as part of the outdoor signage of tire shops in the neighborhoods of my youth…

…seeing the same Michelin Man in a pizzeria in Osaka seems out of place. I’m not sure I had ever made the connection between Michelin-quality dining and the automotive company.  Digging deeper, that is indeed the connection to be made.

“In order to help motorists develop their trips – thereby boosting car sales and in turn, tire purchases – the Michelin brothers produced a small guide filled with handy information for travelers, such as maps, information on how to change a tire, where to fill up on petrol, and wonderfully – for the traveler in search of respite from the adventures of the day – a listing of places to eat or take shelter for the night.”

While having a Michelin “Star” may indeed mean something, in this case, I don’t believe that is what we are to presume.

Digging into the Michelin website you’ll find that a “Recommended selection is the sign of a chef using quality ingredients that are well cooked; simply a good meal… It means that the inspectors have found the food to be above average.”

Okay. “Above average?” If average is more about consuming calories than about flavor or feeling elevated, I would urge us all to aim for well above “average.” And I’ll challenge Michelin’s claim and say that Pizzeria da Tigre does a traditional Neapolitan style pizza to an entirely average standard, and below almost every other Neapolitan pizza in Osaka that I have sampled.

My favorite pizza in Osaka is Critters in Shinsaibashi, which does pizza in the same style (at a similar price), that is better in every way, and is just bursting with flavor (including an extraordinary sauce).  That’s Pizza in Nishi-ku (there are several That’s Pizzas in Osaka) is another example, and is easily as good or better than Pizzeria da Tigre, and much more fun to visit.

I often complain that the Japanese are overly interested in the Naples-style, very thin crust, “fancy” pizza experience.  When someone starts a new Napolitano pizza restaurant in Japan, I have no evidence that they are on to a superior product, but they are definitely entering a very competitive (perhaps flooded) category, trying to differentiate themselves from other, “me-too,” look-a-like pizzas. Why? Does Japan really need another Margherita pizza? Really? I doubt it.

I am 100% on Team Japan.  I can personally point to one-of-kind aspects of culture here in this country that refreshing and innovative.  Osaka stands out as a genuinely cool place, with a style that is inspiring and feels alive. But there are some interesting comments around the Japanese and their relationship to following vs creation, and when the Japanese choose to enter the Neapolitan category, again and again and again, I see signs of that “copy mentality” with regard to western staples (in this case, staples from Naples).

For examples of pizza in Osaka that are Napolitano, but breakout into their own field – I recommend Critters Pizza (again and again), and then Dal Donnailiofor a super-decadent, more high-end, much more personally-crafted pizzas.

The best picture I could get of my classic Pizza Test was a very limp slice; you could pick a slice up, but barely. This was my third attempt. For the Attilio pizza, the crust was wet, and near liquid, and could not be picked up in slice-form at all.

If you were to accuse me of being almost bitter about my experience at Pizzeria da Tigre, I wouldn’t deny it. The hype of the Michelin association increased expectations for a pizza that could not deliver anything beyond a minimum experience.  It’s the pizza, but it’s also the non-existent vibe, and general lack of love in the experience of being there. If this was indeed an attempt to “copy” something that was genuinely alive, we are left with a shell that only vaguely resembles the original living thing.

“Acknowledging the growing influence of the guide’s restaurant section, the Michelin brothers also recruited a team of mystery diners – or restaurant inspectors, as we better know them today – to visit and review restaurants anonymously.”

Anonymous may be a good idea (I don’t know, is it? Why is that important?), but in this case I would say that Michelin’s “corporate” review of da Tigre, and the absence of any way to compare that experience to the truly best pizzas in Osaka, sets Michelin up to look out of touch.  I don’t think non-local, “anonymous” reviews help put Pizzeria da Tigre in the context of the best Osaka restaurants.  Michelin’s “Recommendation” serves as another reason why local, personal restaurant reviews by city remain among the best ways to find the best dining experiences.

For more Osaka Pizza see:

— Critter’s Pizza in Shinsaibashi in Chuo-ku
— Nipponbashi’s A PIZZA in Chuo-ku
— Craft Beer & Pizza Imazato in Ikuno-ku
— Pizza Bar Full House in Kita-ku
— NYC-style slices at Hughes Pizza in Kita-ku
— More slices at Henry’s Pizza in Chuo-ku
— That’s Pizza in Nishi-ku
— Pizzeria da Dots in Taisho-ku
— Atarizza Pizzeria in Nishi-ku
— Drunk Bears pizza in Kita-ku has one of the only deep-dish pizzas in Osaka
— The Goofy’s Pizza in Kita-ku
— For a fancy pizza, see Dal Donnaiolo in Nishitenma in Kita-ku
— La Pizzeria da Napoletana Regalo