A Love Letter to Sydney’s Regina al Pizzeria
A fantastic evening in Sydney's Redfern district, and a study of pizza al padellino.
Perhaps because of my absolute dedication to my adopted home country of Japan, it is not often I am able to sample high-quality pizza internationally. On a recent visit to Australia, I sought out Regina la Pizzeria in the Redfern district (of the surprisingly beautiful city) of Sydney.
Truly impressive, Sydney’s Regina la Pizzeria was a fascinating pizza experience. I tried a style of pizza I have never had before and I left wanted to try everything else. Below I will share my pictures of Regina’s Napoletana pizzas, my research into their Turin-style “baked” pan pizzas, and supply some comparisons to similar pizzas I’ve experienced in my tastings as the (unofficial) Official Pizza Czar of Japan.
Located as part of a lovely plaza complex, Regina la Pizzeria has a spacious, full-sized restaurant, with additional seating outside under the vaulted ceiling of the hallway. It is neither the kind of place that is exceedingly starched in its authenticity, nor the sort that is overly modern; inside Regina is comfortable, contemporary, and cool.
One of the first things I noticed as I arrived was the presences of two pizza ovens.
Fraternal twins, they were; a large green-tiled, brick, wood fired oven (a Pasquale Fazzone), and; the classic pizza kitchen oven, wide, with several decks (a Moretti Forni), tucked around the corner in the kitchen.
Pizza restaurants are usually one or the other. Savoy in Tokyo has two “identical twin” iron ovens, but I can’t think of another time I have ever seen both types in one shop.
While Regina has a full menu including pastas and other mains, I’ll focus on the pizza.
Regina’s pizza menu is “chess” themed (as in the game), with a different piece to designate each section of the menu.
Where each pizza is a move. Each bite a checkmate.
-- Regina al Pizzeria
The four sections of the pizza menu are: The Classiche Pizzas (designated by the King) offering traditional Napolitana styles including the Margherita, the Marinara, the Diavola; Then there are the Speciali Pizzas (marked by the Queen), truly special house pizzas like the Fellini (corn, ham, spicy honey); Then there are two surprising and unusual categories of pizza - the Twice Cooked Pizza and the Baked Pizza (symbolized by the two Castles/Towers on the board).
Because I have so much experience with Neapolitan style pizza in particular (ever so popular in Japan), I was called to try from among those last two, more unique categories. Eventually I would choose their baked pan style.
However, as I sat that night in my seat at the counter, and watched the construction of the Naples-style pizzas from the Classiche and Speciali menus, I was property tempted. Envious even. There were so many good-looking pizzas. I didn’t realize how extraordinary the Neapolitans were as I ordered, or I would have chosen differently.
Let’s begin with a look at some of the gorgeous monsters on the traditional side of the menu.
As we first arrived, a customer named Miro seated a few seats down the counter to my left, made a passionate suggestion of Regina’s version of the “quattro fromage” - which they call the Bocelli.
Bocelli Pizza: Fior di Latte, Manchego, Smoked Provola, Comte, Gorgonzola, Ricotta, Candy Walnuts, Truffle Honey
-- From the Regina la Pizzeria pizza menu
The “Four Cheese” Pizza is so popular in Japan (it is on almost every pizza menu), I tend to be disinterested. I have however, enjoyed this kind of pizza before. The Quattro Fromage at Makino Pizza in Sapporo totally surprised me (it was a six cheese pizza, I believe).
I did not try the Bocelli Pizza at Regina, but I will assume it is fantastic.
Another pizza that caught my eye - again and again - was a “green pizza” they call the Vitti. Green; you would think pesto, no? Think again.
Vitti Pizza: Fior di Latte, Zucchini Cream, King Prawns, Stracciatella, Zucchini Flowers, Olive Crumble
-- From the Regina la Pizzeria pizza menu
Not pesto, but a “zucchini cream.” Hmmmm. Just beautiful to gaze upon. The shrimp were arrayed as bits, not full prawn. And that olive crumble - more on that below, as well.
I did not have the opportunity to try this pizza either, but I was properly seduced as I saw it made (several times) as I sat perched on the countertop.
It is (still) painful to say that I did not have the opportunity to try any of those Neapolitan pizzas, but I did eat pizza that night, of that you can be certain.
If you remember, there were two non-traditional categories of pizza on the menu; Twice Cooked and Pan Baked. For my part, I was equally tempted by the twice cooked fried and the pan varieties; I would have liked to have ordered one of each, but, on this particular night I choose the very baked Mastroianni.
Mastronianni Pizza: Stracciatella, Fior di Latte, Fiori di Zucca, Olive Crumble, Parma Prosciutto
-- From the pizza menu at Regina
As the exotic Italian ingredients suggest: there is a lot going on with these pizzas.
Let’s take a quick look at the category of the pan-baked pizza featured at Regina.
Pizza al Padellino (meaning ‘pan-baked pizza’) is baked in small, round metal pans rather than directly on the stove or oven surface.
-- From the pizza menu at Regina al Pizzeria
I chose Regina’s Pizza al Padellino for the opportunity to learn, and to expand the range of what I have tasted. The learning continued since that meal, as I have since done a bit of research on the origins of this pizza.
Pizza al Padellino (also sometimes called Pizza al Tegamino) is a distinct type of pizza that has become a specialty of Turin, Italy. From the reading I did in the writing of this piece, I learned that padellino means “small pan” and tagamino means “frying pan.”
Pizza al Padellino, also known as pan pizza, is a typical dish from Turin. This type of pizza is cooked in a small round pan (padellino means «small pan» in Italian)... It is baked at a lower temperature, which gives the dough a spongy texture with crispy edges.
-- Erasmus+ Torino Unit
While Regina’s Pizza al Padellino comes from the category of a pan pizza, they are (accurately) focused on the process of baking. The finished pizza is not actually baked in a pan (that is a departure Regina takes from the Turin style), only the bread itself is baked in a round pan (in advance). The resulting quality in their bread is what they would call “airy” (not “spongy”); closer to a European loaf than a bouncy focaccia.
That flat, circular loaf of pan-baked bread is then cut into top and bottom halves, as if to prepare a giant “grilled cheese” sandwich. Once cut, the two slices were misted with water (to help prevent them from becoming overly dry). Between the two halves there was added quite a bit of cheese (perhaps the fior di latte?). That “cheese sandwich” was then taken around the corner (into the kitchen) and parked in the traditional pizza oven for 10 minutes or so. From there, the “sandwich” was brought back around into the open-air kitchen, and was put in the much higher-temperature brick oven.
At this point in the process the Mastronianni Pizza was not yet done, but had been baked three times; there is the original baking (some hours before the pizza is made), and then again in two different pizza ovens as the dish comes together. If this was a thicker, more dense loaf, all this oven time would likely made for a very hard, very dry bread. But because the original loaf was so full of thin, airy bubbles, as the bread is baked and re-baked, those bubbles turn into thin, crispy, golden-brown, crunchy “glass.” Yes, something like that.
As the thrice-baked sandwich comes out of the oven for the final time, the very crispy, cheese-filled concoction was carefully cut into six pieces, and dressed with toppings.
The first addition to the pizza was a second kind of cheese, the stracciatella - which seems to be a signature element of almost every pizza at Regina.
Stracciatella cheese is the tasty and creamy filling of burrata. It’s a mix of frayed mozzarella cheese and cream.
-- Mozzarella Company
The stracciatella at Regina is packed into blue piping bags, and a fluffy burst of that creamy cheese was squeezed onto each slice of the baked Mastronianni pizza (pictured below). After, a large platter of prosciutto was pulled out of the cold case, and each of the six slices received it’s own sliver of salty ham.
For the most part, that was it. It was ready.
How’s that look? Sensational.
The more sensitive reader has already felt my ache at not being able to try some of the traditional pizzas pictured above. But as this baked pizza arrived at my seat, I was in-fact about to sample something truly extraordinary.
As you can clearly see, at the level of aesthetics, the Mastronianni is certainly an extraordinary pizza.
Just look at that - the marvelous Mastronianni at Regina.
The slice-view of this pizza really shows the creation in full form. It is, indeed, a “grilled cheese” pizza, done with a flamingo-like flamboyance.
That green-orange flare at the peak of the prosciutto is listed as “Fiori di Zucca” on the menu, which translates to zucchini flower or "squash blossom.” Exquisite.
I took my first bite. More than flavor, I noticed the crunch of that very-baked exterior.
About the crust, the menu says:
[A] thick, crispy, and golden crust with a soft, airy interior. Padellino pizza is perfect for those who love crispy crust but want a light, digestible bite.
-- From the pizza menu at Regina al Pizzeria
Regina’s claim is “airy,” and it was. The edges of the tall, crispy bubbles in the crust (from the original bake), re-baked as they were, were almost sharp as they shattered. The crust has a harden exterior, but the interior remained light. There was a lightness, again, in the foamy stracciatella. The prosciutto; earthy, greasy, worked to bring the pizza back down to earth.
Later in the meal, I took a bit of the bread separately; the image that came to mind was that of a light, ungarlicked crouton.
And don’t miss that “olive crumble.” The almost-dust black of the baked and dried olive at first looks like some char from the baking process, and upon closer inspection, like the crumbs of an Oreo cookie. The olive flavor on my pizza was almost too subtle; a great addition, and I would have welcomed an even more intense taste. More olive might bring some bitter-bright counter-weight to the bread.
Okay.
I accept that the Pizza al Padelinno is yet another variation on pizza, that this example is properly Italian, and that it is as valid as any other pizza. The Regina version of the Turin-style pizza was absolutely beautiful, it was quite good, and it was very, very interesting. In the end, the proscutto was the dominant element, with the light, creamy stracciatella playing the female lead, drawing me deeper into the production right up to the final bite. But without a traditional pizza dough or the flavor of the cornicione, with no essence of tomato, garlic, or oregano - it was hard to have any sense of eating pizza at all.
After this experience, I still cannot say I know much about the category of Torinese pan pizza. Many of the continental versions of these pizzas feature tomatoes (which might be a better choice, again - more contrast). Most Turin padellino pizzas are not cut into a top and bottom sandwich style at all, they are not “stuffed” with cheese - a traditional Turin pizza has the cheese, and other ingredients, piled to top.
I do not claim to know this class of pizza, but I recently had another “gourmet” pizza which seems to come from the same category (perhaps one inspiring the other, or both taken form the same turn or trend):
Last December I had the opportunity to write a review of Pizza Bar on 38th. Tokyo’s Mandarin Oriental’s Kshiki restaurant provides an eight-course omakase pizza experience (for a very small audience at each seating). On the day I was there, there was a similar “grilled cheese” pizza on the menu, which pizza master Paolo Guanzon called a “pizzino.” I hadn’t heard that word before, I took note. It turns out the term pizzino (as I understand it) is named after a specialized pizza al padellino from Giuseppe Giordano; “Pizz’ino” is the name of his restaurant.
[T]he Pizz’ino, a unique Italian patent dedicated to an unusual pan, specifically cooked with just a 20 cm diameter rim and no base. Consequently, the pizza is not as oily as the traditional Torinese pan pizza, but well-cooked and crispy.
-- 50toppizza.it
The “pizzino” I had at Pizza Bar on 38th was also not pizza-like, also more like a bakery-esque, split-sandwich creation (that one topped with fresh-grated truffle); both were delicious.
Having tried the first of the two less-common types of pizzas at Regina, I still want to try the Twice Cooked “fried” pizza. The Mastronianni baked pan version was good, and was easy to come back to even as the meal was almost over; I remained interested, and curious about each bite. However, if I were to go back, I would certainly order from the Neapolitan offerings.
My time in the shop was partly as a patron, and in part as a pupil. I learned a lot writing this piece, and also, in person at the counter, watching the pizzas assembled before me. Which reminds me...
The pizza masters at Regina were sensational. There were two, both working in a confident, masculine style; real craftsmen, to be sure.
The main pizza master was tattooed and butch, absolutely dominating the pizza making process. He was crisp and moved quickly (almost in a blur). I have seen hundreds of pizzas made, and he stands out in my memory in terms of being so busy at work at the peel.
Throughout the process, he would “touch” the pizza more than any pizza man I have ever witnessed.
With the pizza made and stretched on the peel, he would put it in the oven, directly on the stone. After 20 seconds or so, he would pull it back out, and set it on a screen, and then thrust it back in, the screen holding the pie just off the hot rock. Then, the pizza was drawn out again, turned, lifted, examined. The screen removed, the pizza dashed back into the oven. Blasted with heat, manually lifted, shifted and exposed to the flames, or the smoky roof of the oven, tuning the crust to create a proud, darkly-spotted spectacle.
I watched him take some pizzas out of the oven, mid bake, put them on the oven’s ledge outside the fire, cook some bread in the middle of the process, then put the pizzas back in and finish them. I’ve never seen that before.
The second of the two pizza masters does an audible “clap” at the end of his process in the final dressing of each pizza. As the post-oven ingredients have been applied and sprinkled on, as he finishes a pizza, he performs a big - “clap” - and sends it on its way. I have seen the pizza master at Da Massimo in Sapporo do a very regular - “clap” - once for each pizza, after he finishes forming the dough (presumably to free himself of the flour). In this way, both men show a real ritualistic rite in the midst of their making.
The guys at Regina were truly phenomenal. Intense, and absolutely focused. They were patient with me, as I leered and took the shots I share here in this article. The masters were ultimately a bit friendly, at the end of the night, as they cleaned up. I was impressed.
Did I mention we also had the ragout pasta?
Fettuccine al Ragu: Tomato, Beef Ragout, Parmiggiano Reggiano
-- From the pasta menu at Regina al Pizzeria
The meat sauce pasta was fantastic. I don’t mean to give it so little attention; it was arguably better than the Pizza al Pedellino, and could likely stand in the company of their other artesian pizzas. But, as you know, because my passion is pizza; while she was eagerly devoured, my eye did wander back to the pies (again and again).
I have gone on longer than I meant to, but I have learned something from the meal, from the masters, and from the research it took to help me understand what I had eaten.
For an equivalent pizza (the Neapolitan pizzas) in Japan, I think Pizza Maramu in Ebisu and PST Rippongi are fair comparisons; Marumo for the uniquely high craftsmanship and PST for brute force brilliance. Sabasu in Akasaka is close to the same quality of experience. The Savoy in Tokyo and the Ezo Savoy Pizza in Sapporo are similar, but perhaps not quite at the level of Regina.
I love being in Japan. I don’t know that I shall ever be back to Sydney, and that is indeed a shame - Sydney is an absolutely gorgeous city. But beyond the city itself, I would risk time and treasure for the opportunity to try one of Regina classic pizzas. You should to. Do it.
Regina, darling, thank you for the wonderful meal. I will never forget you.















Regina al Pizzeria sounds amazing! I loved the pictures of the presentation and the two ovens. I learned something from Graham's description of how the Pizza Man worked the peel in the oven to be sure the pizza was baked evenly. It was interesting to me that Graham also knows so much about Pizza available in Japan his adopted country. I will follow Words by Graham.