Open till late every night of the week, this basement wonderland is a little bit American, a little bit Italian, a little bit Australian and a whole lot of fun.
14.5/20
Pizza$
Alfred’s Pizzeria has spent the whole nine years it’s been open in the CBD sharpening its offering. Unrelated to the Guildford burger spot, it’s popular with night owls, as you’d expect of a venue whose kitchen stays open until 11.45pm, Monday-Sunday. Guests squeeze into a dimly lit basement filled with bench seats, low tables and bar stools. A leadlight window plus rock and religious ephemera channels the divey neighbourhood watering holes of New Jersey and New York.
Considering the room’s aesthetic, one expects to find Chicago deep-dish, cutesy squares of tavern-style pizza or another regional American pizza style anchoring the menu. Ba-bow. Instead, the pizza boasts strong ties to the dish’s birthplace. Specifically: to Rome’s high-flying Prati neighbourhood, home to Gabriele Bonci’s destination bakery, Pizzarium Bonci.
Ahead of the 2016 opening of Alfred’s owner Michael Cheang spent time with Bonci fine-tuning his dough game. Although I haven’t eaten at the OG Bonci, the pizze at Alfred’s – thin, fleet-footed, crisp rather than pillowy, evenly tanned – verily fits the description of “Roman-style pizza”, in particular, the capital’s pizza Romana al taglio: hulking, rectangular slabs sold by weight. While Romans dig pizza with corners, Alfred’s head chef Maggie Henley prefers hers round, massaging the dough into discs roughly the size of a vinyl LP. Pizzas can be ordered whole, cut into eights, or by the two-slice quarter ($7). They are lightweight enough that most people should be able to eat one by themselves.
In the absence of a marinara on the menu – which you know and I know is the best way to measure a pizzaolo’s skill – the garlic bread pizza ($10) best illustrates the structural integrity of Alfred’s dough. Otherwise, the menu’s 15 pizza options – a dozen core items plus three seasonal specials – feature lightly modded classics with names full of puns and American pop culture references. Studded with pinches of meatball and mild cacciatore, the Big Al ($27) is a carnivore fantasy that tastes like a staff meal at a 1990s family butcher. Songstress Suzi Quatro lends her name to the gooey four-cheese pie ($25). Dainty chunks of pineapple and swatches of pale ham populate the Aloha MF ($24).
While the topped pizzas don’t defy gravity in the same way the all-garlic ones do, your reaction will still be: “my, this is a deliciously light, easy to eat pizza.” Topping densities are sensible rather than sparse and the shredded Italian mozzarella is deployed for mouthfeel rather than extreme cheesiness. Pizzas are baked in glowing electric ovens, the comparatively shorter cook time – at least compared to scorching wood-fired ovens – helping to fortify the base and intensify the tomato sugo.
Another pleasure of eating at Alfred’s is exploring its neat, 30-bottle hot sauce collection. Ask the nearest upbeat, chummy member of staff – big up Canadian-born bar manager Ben Lamibe and his second-in-command Jesse Goodwin for maintaining such a strong service culture – for some extra spice and they’ll ask you to name a heat level from one to 10. In the middle of pack is a four-score locally made Dr Paul’s number combining sweet mango with the floral heat of habanero. At the more life-threatening end of the scale are incendiary, limited releases whose chilli contents call to mind the glowing rod, tongs and full-body suit routine seen in the opening credits of The Simpsons.
Over the past month, I’ve made multiple visits to Alfred’s to experience its many moods. (You know, journalistic vigour, blah blah blah.) I took my Brisbane Times colleague here for tinnies and to split a pizza before eating dinner together. Three pals and I dropped in on a heaving Friday and bought each other rounds while demolishing a four-pizza supper. On Wednesday, a buddy and I came after dinner and ordered zero pizzas but multiple desserts. And by dessert, I mean drams of fine whisky served in tulip-shaped tasting glasses. Because while Alfred’s takes pizza seriously, it’s equally committed to great drinking across the board.
Despite being around for almost a decade and residing in the CBD, Alfred’s feels like a place that – with all due respect – lurks below the radar, perhaps deliberately so. Cheang doesn’t do a lot of media, nor has Alfred’s climbed aboard the never-ending hamster wheel of special events that many rely on to woo fickle diners. Rather, management had a clear idea of its mission. Pizza is what they do – and they do it well.
The low-down
Vibe: a CBD basement pizza joint making late nights great nights again.
Go-to dish: the Big Al.
Drinks: a serious stockpile of whisky plus cool tinnies and snappy cocktails equals a brilliant drinks list to be savoured.
Cost: about $55 for two, excluding drinks.
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Max Veenhuyzen is a journalist and photographer who has been writing about food, drink and travel for national and international publications for more than 20 years. He reviews restaurants for the Good Food Guide.
