BJ Poss – C-VILLE Weekly

Naples, Italy, the pizza capital of the world, is sprinkled with more than 800 pizzerias, with styles varying from the thin ruota di carretto to a denser crust-forward a canotto. And all still uphold the Neapolitan spirit in the harmony of ripe tomato, fragrant basil, and the kneading of the dough. It was on a trip to Naples that Onur Basegmez found inspiration in a pie whose essence would become the dough that rose into Pi-Napo, Fry’s Spring’s slice of Napoli.

“We are not just selling pizza,” Basegmez insists, standing over buckets of spicy Italian salami and cherry Vesuvian tomatoes. “We are selling a cheap flight to Italy.”

Pi-Napo has revitalized the old Fry’s Spring Station into an open-kitchen pizzeria of twirling dough, imported gelato, and handmade cannoli. It’s equipped with two Italian pizza ovens made of volcanic ash, which maintain a temperature of more than 800 degrees. These ovens, smoldering with local white oak and hickory, impart a crusty spice on artisan pizza delivered to the table in sold-by-the-slice time.

Basegmez’s philosophy is rooted in the idea that no matter how you dress it, pizza is a simple dish that leans on quality ingredients and attention to detail. “I don’t eat pizza every day, but I taste pizza every day,” he grins.

Through several trips eating along the narrow streets of Italy, Basegmez and his Italian partner tinkered with the nuances of hand-crushed sauces to craft a menu that your Nonna would be proud of. “Pizza must be balanced,” he says, with a touch of spice, the subtle sweetness of a sauce, and not too loaded with toppings that it buries the delicacy of the crust.

Pi-Napo’s menu offers a dozen pies, and a beautiful dollop of buffalo mozzarella drizzled with olive oil, basil, and cherry tomato. The pizzas range from mushroom with white truffle to spicy Italian salami and Calabrian peppers, with a nod to Basegmez’s choice—a classic margherita with a sprinkle of garlic and cherry tomato. The restaurant has 10-inch pizzas during the week as a lunch special and shifts to strictly 16-inch sheet pan pies on Saturdays and Sundays.

Along with a wheel of Italian gelato, Pi-Napo leans on an in-house family recipe to stuff the cannoli that anchor the dessert window. “We’re bringing Italy to town,” says Basegmez.

If you drove through the Fry’s Spring neighborhood in late August, you might have noticed Basegmez. On Pi-Napo’s opening weekend, he stood at the traffic lights between Pi-Napo and Dürty Nelly’s and handed out free slices to passersby. “We want to be a part of the neighborhood,” Basegmez says. He appreciates the history of Fry’s Spring Station, standing since 1933, and revels in customers who share that they used to get their oil changed right where the two-ton wood fired pizza ovens now sit.

Pi-Napo has hit its stride on weekdays and game days. Just a walk from Scott Stadium, it’s already served as a rain shelter for a stormy home game and routinely shows Euro-league soccer on screens throughout the restaurant. In the coming months, the kitchen team is looking to add pizza-making classes to spread the joy of 0/0 flour blanketed in ladles of Mutti crushed tomatoes.

Starch has been a vehicle of dining pleasure since food first bled into art. Shaved bits of mutton with dilly tzatziki arrive in a stone-flamed pita, and baguettes serve as the crusty pusher to noodles up and down the boot. But one savory handheld is left unrivaled: mashed corn flour rolled and pressed to hold dripping bits of asada, crunchy kernels of elote, and a whole lot of hot sauce—the corn tortilla.

Just as the tortilla’s heritage spans recipes from Colombia to Southern California, new restaurant Mejicali on West Main Street features broadly inspired collaborations between restaurateurs Johnny Ornelas and River Hawkins.

Ornelas and Hawkins—known for the Ornelas family’s chain of Guadalajara Mexican restaurants and Hawkins’ involvement as co-owner and mixologist of The Bebedero—riff like lifelong friends behind a pale-blue bartop, designed to reflect the California coastline. “We felt there was a hunger to quench here,” says Ornelas, while thumbing a handful of limes in his palm. “This place encompasses our home, our habitat.” After meeting in one of Hawkins’ mezcal classes, the duo agreed to go in on a venture to celebrate the feel and flavor of their childhoods.

Mejicali’s menu is a street flare twist on classic Latin dishes, a culture the partners picked up from growing up around Los Angeles and their culinary travels worldwide. For instance, the Chicha Gimlet is a gin cocktail mixed with a corn chicha morada mixer served in a bag that gives a floral refresh reminiscent of sipping agua frescas along the tepache-splattered streets of Mexico City.

“We want you to use as many senses as you can attach to a cocktail,” says Hawkins, who engineered Mejicali’s drink list to introduce unique concepts to those willing to be courageous. While the specialty drinks feature everything from drops of matcha oil to hints of ceviche juice, the bar offers more than 60 rotating mezcals and tequilas, including a handful that are chilled and on tap.

The food menu beats like the lively pulse of a street food market. Everything is served to be shared and on the move, whether at your table or on your way to the stage. The Esquite Bombs layer a fluffy street-corn center, bringing a coarse earthiness to contrast the bright touch of cilantro in a croquette-esque ball topped with a Takis crunch.

Hawkins was able to use Mejicali’s space as an opportunity to express some of the eclectic styles he’d wanted to share from back home, which he believes could be a fresh pop in Charlottesville. “You always find a way to incorporate the art,” he describes, standing under one of his hand-painted murals as he looks through a fresh case of mezcals to be tasted in his class that evening.

Like a well-crafted cocktail, Mejicali blends ingredients in the name of art. “I’d make the Mona Lisa out of macaroni,” laughs Hawkins. The walls are dripping with expression—from Hawkins’ hand-painted low rider-inspired murals to the Lucha Libre stained glass leading to the patio.

“We spent our lives trying to fit into something that didn’t exist,” says Ornelas, detailing how Mejicali allows the partners to take the reins creatively and offer patrons a taste of ’90s Cali-Mex al pastor on hand-rolled tortillas or a mezcal cocktail. Mejicali gives Charlottesvillians a space to escape to somewhere else, and for Ornelas and Hawkins, it’s a place to go home to.