La Parigina Napoletana
Naples' double-crust street-food legend — a soft pizza base, a filling of tomato, cooked ham and caciocavallo, and a lid of crisp golden puff pastry.
First, the name — because everyone gets it wrong, myself included for years. Parigina sounds like "Parisian," and the story everyone tells is that it came from France, the puff-pastry lid a French flourish. It did not. The most likely origin is a dialect deformation of p'a reggina — "for the queen" — created in honour of the refined palate of Maria Carolina d'Austria, the Bourbon queen of Naples. Nothing to do with Paris at all.
What it actually is: the Neapolitan answer to the savoury ham-and-cheese pastry. If you have ever had a croissant salato stuffed with ham in an American café, the parigina is its older, prouder Campanian cousin — but built like a small architecture. A soft pizza-dough base on the bottom, a layer of tomato, cooked ham (prosciutto cotto) and caciocavallo or provola in the middle, and a sheet of buttery puff pastry laid over the top, brushed with egg and baked until it shatters. It belongs to the rosticceria — the fried-and-baked counter food of Naples — and it appears at every party, every buffet, cut into squares and eaten warm or at room temperature.
Tap to enlarge — La parigina napoletana: i tre strati, gli ingredienti, il metodo
Recipe — La Parigina Napoletana
Makes one tray · about 1 hour 30 (most of it rising and baking)
- 300 g flour type 00, for the pizza base
- ~180 ml water lukewarm
- 5 g fresh yeast
- 1 tsp sugar
- 5 g salt
- Extra-virgin olive oil
- 400 g tomato passata or peeled, lightly cooked
- 150 g cooked ham prosciutto cotto, sliced
- 200 g caciocavallo or provola grated or thinly sliced
- 1 sheet puff pastry pasta sfoglia
- 1 egg beaten, for the glaze
Variations are mostly about the cured meat and the cheese: salami instead of cooked ham, smoked provola for a stronger pull, a little black pepper through the tomato. The bones stay the same — soft below, crisp above, molten in the middle.
Eat it the way Naples does: standing up, from a paper napkin, ideally still warm from the rosticceria counter.