The scent of basil and olive oil had always made Leo think of his great-grandmother. Even as a child, whenever she cooked, the house transformed. Time slowed down. Conversations became softer. Everyone stayed just a little longer at the table.
Years later, when Leo left Bucharest to settle in Floresti, he brought only what truly mattered: a single suitcase, an espresso machine, and a wooden box filled with old family notebooks. Inside one of them, folded neatly between pages stained with flour and tomato paste, was the recipe — the one passed down from Napoli through four generations.
He didn’t know it at the time, but that recipe was about to change his life. And maybe even the lives of others.
A New Town, an Old Tradition
Floresti welcomed him quietly. The rhythm was slower, the hills greener, and the neighbors curious. One evening, with nothing but a small kitchen and big memories, Leo recreated his great-grandmother’s pizza for a few friends. They didn’t speak much during the meal. Just smiled. Chewed. Looked at each other. And then someone whispered: “This doesn’t taste like pizza. This tastes like home.”
That night sparked something. It didn’t take long before word spread, and soon enough, what started as a cozy dinner turned into a small yet growing movement — the foundation of what would become pizza floresti.
The Fire That Makes It Real
But Leo knew it wasn’t just the dough or the sauce. It was also the heat.
The secret lay in the ovens Napoli-built, wood-fired monsters that reached scorching temperatures and respected the craft. With them, pizza wasn’t baked. It was born. In 90 seconds or less. Charred edges, airy crust, bubbling cheese — the kind of result no electric box could ever dream of.
A Short Drive, a Big Idea
A few months later, he met Andreea. She lived in Gilau, taught music to kids, and thought pineapple on pizza was a crime against humanity.She tasted Leo’s creation, closed her eyes, and nodded: “You need to bring this to my town.”
So they did.
With the same heart, the same fire, the same recipe — but new faces and new stories — pizza gilau was born.
The Story Continues
Today, pizza isn’t just a food. It’s a bridge. Between generations. Between towns. Between strangers and friends.
And it all started with a box, a handwritten recipe, and a dream worth sharing one slice at a time.
