The lunch rush at Giulietta Pizza&More rolls in around 12 pm, and the place fills with the scent of yeast and melting mozzarella. I’m perched on a high stool by the open kitchen, watching the dough stretch under the chef’s practiced hands while a nearby radio spins a low‑key indie track. The flat‑roofed dining room hums with conversation, and a server slides a steaming plate of the “Truffle Funghi” onto the table, the aroma of earth‑y mushrooms mingling with a whisper of black truffle oil.
Giulietta isn’t just another pizza joint; it’s a family‑run spot that grew from a modest kitchen in Chipilo de Francisco Javier Mina. The owner, who grew up on the streets of Naples before settling in Puebla, insists on using imported San Marzano tomatoes and a 48‑hour‑old dough. Reviewers rave about the “vision” behind the menu – one comment reads, “Every bite feels like a trip to Italy, but the spice of Puebla sneaks in at the end.” The signature “Poblano Pesto” pizza, priced at $150, showcases a bright green pesto made from locally sourced poblano peppers, a thin crisp crust, and a drizzle of crema that balances heat with creaminess.
A regular, who says they come “by 3 pm for the happy hour slice,” notes that the “ravioli‑style calzones” are a hidden treasure. Another reviewer praises the “music and environment” that make the place feel like a casual lounge rather than a formal restaurant. The staff’s friendly banter and the occasional clink of cymbals from a nearby street performer add an unexpected soundtrack to the dining experience. Even the birthday celebrations get a special touch: the kitchen flashes a quick “¡Feliz cumpleaños!” on a tiny screen above the oven while serving a mini dessert pizza topped with dulce de leche.
By the time the sun dips low, the crowd thins and the kitchen slows. I linger over a final slice of the “Margherita Classic,” its tomato sauce bright, the mozzarella stringy, the basil leaf fresh enough to almost perfume the air. The price tag of $120 feels like a small price for the care poured into each hand‑tossed round. As the last customers leave, the smell of baked dough lingers, and I realize why Giulietta has earned a 4.7 rating from 892 reviewers – it’s a place where every detail, from the flat roof to the curated playlist, works together to make pizza feel personal.
Walking out onto Calle Ricardo Vanzzini, the street lights flicker on and the night market nearby begins to buzz. I carry the memory of that truffle‑infused slice, the hum of conversation, and the promise that a return visit will feel just as welcoming. Giulietta Pizza&More isn’t merely a restaurant; it’s a slice of Puebla’s evolving food story, served hot and honest.
