Bettina Hansen

photojournalism in musing and pictures

DiFara Pizza

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So, for breakfast at Central Park (see previous post) we brought pastries and cookies from Levain Bakery, which practically located in heaven’s basement. Sorry smell-o-vision hasn’t been invented yet and I ate the baked goods before I could photograph them, so I have no pictures.

For dinner, we decided take like, eight subway transfers to try what Time Out New York named the best food in New York City: the artichoke pizza at Di Fara Pizza. It certainly lived up to the expectation. The place is a hole-in-the-wall looking joint in Brooklyn, and all of the pizza is painstakingly crafted by the elder hands of chef Domenico DeMarco.

A kind of hushed awe falls over the crowd of people that await and study their pizza’s progress. The guy is a marvel to watch; birthing each pizza, he stretches the dough, rips open a fresh water-packed ball of mozzarella, and stands on cans of tomato sauce to take the pies out of the oven with his bare hands. I can’t even begin to describe the freshness bursting in my mouth. Oh, it was pizza heaven. And the service was so gracious, even though it was busy. Thanks, Dom!

Look, Ma! No oven mitts!

He just snipped fresh basil right on top of the pizza, and poured olive oil on top. Mmmmm.

Looking through this window, who wouldn’t want to come in?

Written by bettinahansen

January 6, 2008 at 7:02 am

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