Several guide books had suggested Guerrín as having the "best pizza" in Buenos Aires. Granted, pizza style is something very personal with many different varieties: thin crust, thick crust, brick oven, and even a la parilla (grilled!) to name a few. Coming from New York, a place which in my humble opinion has the best pizza outside of Italy, I had high standards. And frankly, I was disappointed. The restaurant itself is fairly large with several seating areas. Near the entrance are two long and parallel counters where lunch-break employees grab slices and eat while standing. Towards the back is a sit-down restaurant with tables, and upstairs is a seating area for larger groups. For those who opt against sit-down service, the line at the counter can get quite long so be prepared to wait. Ironically, it might be faster to just grab a seat during busy lunch and dinner hours.
The pizza at Guerrín was cooked in a standard gas-fired pizza oven with a crust of medium thickness. I ordered three slices: mozzarella, the "house special" (mozzarella with red pepper and an olive), and mozzarella with a slice faina. The latter slice seemed to be the most popular. The crust of all three slices was too dense, with a consistency somewhat similar to focaccia. I would have liked the crust to be a little lighter with more air rather than heavy and compacted. The texture was also slightly wet with minimal browning -- my guess is the Argentine palate would send anything cooked further back as "burnt." My biggest concern, however, was the apparent lack of tomato sauce with way too much cheese. On all of my slices, the tomato sauce was not even visible. No good.
The cooked pepper added nothing to the house special slice and, as for the olive, I just couldn't do it ... off it came. The pizza had been sitting out for awhile: not long enough to warrant a re-heat and so, the cheese began to solidify. Next up was the mozzarella slice with faina. What would possess anyone to throw a slab of focaccia made from chickpea flour on top of a slice of pizza? This weighed everything down, literally. Locals say the faina acts as a sort of flavor sponge, absorbing the flavors from the cheese and sauce. I suppose I am no local; to me, this seemed more like a distraction -- isn't the crust supposed to be a flavor sponge? Why two? Even on its own, however, the faina tasted somewhat like fish. This was startling.
I'm not sure why Guerrín gets such praising reviews. There are better places.