Being freelance, I end up working in various different corners of London, but one of my all time favourites has to be Soho. It’s where I started my career (as the features assistant at GQ, on Hanover Square) before ending up as senior writer at young women’s mag, Company. The National Magazine Company, which publishes it, had two offices on Broadwick Street, and was ridiculously well placed for a host of classic pubs and bars (Sun and 13 Cantons, The Alphabet Bar – now Grillshack – The Endurance (RIP, sob) and the once iconic Two Floors).

The scene has changed over the years, but one of the best changes was the rebirth of Berwick Street into an amazing street food market. There were always fruit and veg sellers, cheerfully offering you their big melons, but in recent years, little stalls and vans popped up, selling things like burritos, scotch eggs (don’t ask) and amazing, Neopolitan pizzas.

This last was the Pizza Pilgrims van, a racing green painted Piaggo Ape van from which two brothers, Thom and James Elliot cooked up the most mouthwatering, authentic tasting pizzas, with puffy, charred dough bases and premium, fresh ingredients on top. I had one on my lunch break once and it was insanely delicious.

A few months ago they opened Pizza Pilgrims, their first permanent premises at the top of Dean Street, opposite the Pizza Express that does jazz in the basement (ooer) and immediately it was rammed. I’ve been twice now, and have always managed to get a table, mainly because it’s the perfect place to go after a screening and at around 9pm the queues have died down.

One of my other favourite pizza places in London is Rossopomodoro in Covent Garden, which is usually packed with Italians and serves authentic, Neapolitan pizza. But PP gives it a good run for its money.

It’s cutely decorated, with vintage Italian advertising posters, and green and white checked tablecloths. The staff are friendly and young (well, younger than me anyway, which these days is most people) and enthusiastic and knowledgeable about the menu.

It’s a short menu, with only 9 or 10 pizzas on it, priced between £7 and £11. The first time I went, I had the N’Duja, which was spiked with chunks of the incredible spicy, spreadable sausage, while D had the Salami. This time, I generously let him have the N’Djua (even though I really wanted it!!) and went for the Calzone Ripieno, which was stuffed with salami, ricotta and mushroom, topped with tomato, fior di latte and parmesan. Neither of them lasted long, though I apparently managed to inhale mine in about five minutes flat.

The bases were as puffy and charred as I remembered, and my calzone was filled with hot, fresh tasting tomato sauce, slivers of salami, chunky mushrooms and lots of soft and oozing cheese.

Last time I came I tried the insanely good vanilla ice cream with virgin olive oil and sea salt. Sadly this time I was stuffed (and, okay, a bit tipsy if truth be told; they do very good rustic red wine by the carafe) – but I’ll be back.