The Direct Pizza Company _ Buckingham

Last Tuesday, I was bugged by a particularly persuasive hunger. “How do we stop being hungry?” I asked my friend, provocatively. Instead of just shrugging, he started telling me about the one place in Buckingham where this problem is solved definitively. Well, I say “one place,” but we were talking about chips, which opened up this whole other conversation. And that, naturally, is how I stumbled into the story of The Direct Pizza Company.

A Local Gem With a Slightly Serious Name

You know that feeling when someone mentions a local spot and you wonder why you've never been? The name, The Direct Pizza Company, itself sounds almost like a government agency for dough. But in a world of chain stores and pre-frozen bases, their approach is a breath of fresh air. I think it’s because they send the signal that here, it’s just a man and his oven.

And here’s a local tip from a recent discovery: Being directly in town means you get a pizza that hasn't spent its life in a delivery van. It’s a place founded on a love for the community, a belief that food shouldn’t be anonymous.

The Art of Simple Things

This might be my age talking – or just my melancholy – but everything is under the lens of quality now. We actually found ourselves asking each other, “Do we know a place where the food is alive?” We wanted that film-shot style, focusing on the man with the flour on his hands.

And that’s exactly what you get here. Watching them work is like seeing a boxer with bread dough; it’s mesmerizing. The fingers work the surface first, then press, then roll, so everything looks just perfect.

More Than Just A Pizza

The founders tell an incredible story of seeing people frequent fast-food shops during a food crisis. They recall many scruffing a piece of bread from their rucksack to toast over hot kitchen coals without a word of protest. With a fishbowl opening, they welcomed customers with a friendly, “Can we help you?”, while holding a towering stack of whole wheat loaves.

They still call their operation a locavorium, a little nod to their philosophy. It’s a word that perfectly captures their commitment to the hyper-local, a quirky badge of honor that says they aren’t trying to be a global empire. Whoosh, they can still feel that younger self.

The COVID-Basting Recipe

The pandemic brought a lot of hardship, but it also showed everyone how much we crave a human touch. In the front yard spot where their pastry dough rested, enduring a long pandemic, the founders would fret. They worried about the dough; someone was certain to tinker with it.

They refused a lot of apple sticks, you see, because they were making a point. The owner, the Kuan Yin of their little square, was never above picking up the vacuum cleaner themselves. It’s a stark reminder that a business can grow without losing its soul.

So what makes a pizza place truly local? Is it the ingredients, or is it the stories baked into the crust? I think it’s the latter. Next time you feel that Tuesday-night hunger, consider giving them a call; it might be the best invitation you receive all week.