What does pizza from a vending machine actually taste like?

Rome is famous for its ancient landmarks, as the heart of Catholicism, and of course, its exceptional pizza.

In Rome, the craft of pizza-making is as revered as building structures that stand the test of time or leading one of the world’s largest religions.

Unlike the traditional Neapolitan pizza, Roman pizza is lighter, crispier, and more flaky due to being baked for a bit longer. The pizzerias in Trastevere, a charming bohemian district across the Tiber River, are celebrated as some of the finest places to enjoy this dish.

But now, there's a new take on Roman pizza – served fresh from a vending machine.

Rome's latest pizza innovator, "Mr. Go," is a vending machine serving up four varieties of pizza at any time of day or night.

Unlike traditional pizzerias with their weekly closures and afternoon breaks, Mr. Go operates non-stop, tirelessly spinning dough, adding toppings, and baking each pizza to perfection around the clock.

This automated pizza revolution is the creation of Massimo Bucolo, a Sicilian entrepreneur based in Rome.

"There was a gap in the market – while Rome is a major city, there was nothing [foodwise] available at night," Bucolo explains. "We never aimed to replace traditional pizzerias."

Bucolo himself admits it's not exactly traditional pizza. He describes it as "a hybrid of pizza and piadina," the flatbread specialty from the Emilia-Romagna region.

The reason? As Bucolo openly acknowledges, authentic pizza – made by hand and cooked in a wood-fired oven – doesn't quite work in a vending machine. The dough's natural rise and the risk of toppings sliding off are some of the challenges.

Piadina dough is thicker and denser than typical pizza dough, so what does this hybrid creation taste like?

Dinogo Travel decided to investigate and find out for themselves.

The machine hums to life.

Mr. Go is set in a residential neighborhood of Rome, about a 15-minute drive from iconic sites like the Colosseum or Pantheon, and just seven minutes from Termini station. This area, Piazza Bologna, is close to both a hospital and a student quarter, making it a hotspot for late-night activity (Bucolo spent time searching for the perfect location). It’s a quiet neighborhood – which is why my taxi driver is completely puzzled when I jump in at the Colosseum with sunburned tourist skin, asking to be dropped off here.

But once I explain my destination – the latest must-see innovation in Rome’s 2,000-year history – the driver’s face lights up. "I saw it on TV!" he exclaims. In fact, he’s so enthusiastic that when his family calls, he eagerly announces that he’s taking a tourist to the pizza vending machine.

Gianni isn't exactly thrilled, and by 'excited,' I mean he’s convinced this is going to be a total disaster – a ‘schifezza,’ something revolting, awful, and shameful. He even goes as far as to defend me to his family, saying, ‘Oh no, she has to do it for work, come on,’ in a surprisingly generous tone.

We finally arrive. Mr. Go stands just off a busy intersection, but don’t be fooled – this is no eyesore of a vending machine. It’s tucked away in its own little alcove, blaring pop music. (Bucolo later tells me this is all part of the experience – ‘For those three minutes, the place is yours.’)

With Gianni, a born-and-bred Roman who is both horrified and intrigued by the concept of Mr. Go, I walk up to the machine. It’s immaculate – Bucolo insists it’s cleaned regularly, and every few days it’s completely disassembled, thoroughly cleaned, and sanitized for safety. It’s also wonderfully organized, with clear Italian and English instructions, and notes to guide us through the process and let us know what to expect.

A pizza made by a machine

First things first: it truly creates pizza from scratch. While many budget pizza takeaways across Italy tend to pre-bake their bases during slow hours and add toppings when orders come in, Mr. Go starts from the beginning. It mixes the flour and water (enough for 100 pizzas), shapes it into a dough disc, and carefully adds the toppings – all right in front of you.

To begin, we watch as the flour and water are transformed into dough. Bucolo mentions that this is a precise process – in fact, just days before our visit, he personally fine-tuned the machine's flour-to-water ratio after feedback from customers who found the dough too soft. (Romans prefer their pizza crispier, in contrast to the softer Neapolitan style.)

Once the dough is ready – all visible through a small window – it is kneaded into a flat disc, then picked up and moved on to the next step.

Next, the tomato sauce is spread on top, followed by the carefully selected toppings. Bucolo explains that these have been chosen to avoid any mess – no vegetables, for example, as they might slide off. Instead, each pizza’s toppings, including the mozzarella, are pre-mixed, pre-arranged, and stored on plastic trays in the ‘backstage’ fridge.

Once the topping is selected – for example, a blend of four cheeses – it is carefully scooped onto a disc and placed on the dough. This explains the neat, uniform circles of salami and pancetta that you see in the pizza photos.

The pizza is then transferred to the final step – the ‘firing’ process – where it is placed on what looks like a cake stand and spun inside a small oven with glowing red coils.

The dough rises slightly (just enough to keep the toppings in place) as the cheese starts to bubble and melt.

At last, the pizza is sent down a hidden chute, landing on a large, hand-shaped spatula, which then transfers it to its preheated box.

A Roman’s take on it.

The process looks clean, everything is hygienic, and the pizza even has an unexpected visual appeal. But what’s it like in terms of flavor? Gianni is eager for a bite. 'Not too big!' he says, eyeing the pizza cautiously, and I can tell it’s not just for show.

He takes a sip of water and shakes his head when I offer him more. 'I just hope it settles well for you,' he mutters ominously, as I finish off the slice.

His final verdict? 'Pizza should be made by skilled pizzaioli.'

The thing is, Bucolo is a trained pizzaiolo himself. He tells me that while designing the machine, he completed a pizza-making course and accumulated 40 hours of hands-on experience.

Gianni argues, 'This won’t catch on in Rome. In Trastevere, you can get wood-fired pizza in just three minutes too.'

However, Bucolo is adamant that he’s not trying to rival traditional pizza-making.

'It would be absurd to claim that a machine could make a genuine pizza in three minutes,' he says. 'I’ve faced a lot of criticism, but I never promised this would be for everyone.'

"The concept was to create something that didn’t exist before: pizza available at night. The products can improve, we can make adjustments to the machine, but it’s about fulfilling a real need," Bucolo explains.

I can personally attest to that need. Wandering through Rome late one July night after a Euro 2020 match, my friends and I were starving, but nothing was open. Had we known about Mr. Go, it would have been a godsend.

But Bucolo welcomes feedback, even criticism. "I don’t mind criticism of the pizza; it’s important. It helps us improve," he says. This is the same approach that led him to adjust the flour-to-water ratio based on customer input, and he plans to continue tweaking it depending on the season and humidity.

When I mention that Gianni and I thought the pizza tasted like a mix between a pizza and a piadina, Bucolo smiles and nods, "That’s exactly the idea. A traditional pizza would make a mess inside the machine – I’ve thought it all through."

Bucolo is optimistic about the future of Mr. Go. He uses only top-quality, Italian-sourced ingredients in the machine. His next step? To offer pre-cooked pizzas of the same high standard. "Mr. Go will evolve," he says confidently.

As for Gianni, we say our goodbyes with the understanding that next time, he’ll take me to his favorite pizzeria in Trastevere – Ai Marmi.

As for me? I don’t have the refined pizza taste of a Roman, and the piadina dough was a bit of a surprise, but I’m not as disappointed as Gianni. Besides, it’s a quirky, locally-run experience in Rome that offers something different from the usual historic sites. Sure, I’d rather hop in a taxi to Trastevere than make a detour to Mr. Go, but if I’m ever in need of a late-night pizza after a soccer game, I’ll know where to find it.