Di Fara Pizza

Trekked out to Brooklyn's Ave. J to see if Di Fara lives up to its reputation as the best pizza in New York. I'd like to take credit for this brilliant idea but it was my foodie explorer friend, Gwen, who suggested the idea. Brilliant idea!

Chaos at the counter. There really doesn't seem to be order, rhyme or reason to the queue process. It sort of has a mobbish piling sort of energy but everyone is rather civil. I grabbed two seats at one corner while Gwen waited to order a whole pie - mushroom - to stay. She picked up four of those cute little 8 oz cokes in the old fashion bottles and we waited, and waited, but oh, it was so worth it.

Or pie arrived, after a few false alarms, and the zen moment begins. It starts of with the adoring gazes from the crowd at the counter, all bowed in reverence to the pizza laid out before them awaiting final preparations. Domenico De Marco leans over our pizza and lovingly sprinkles on the herb, drizzles the olive oil, grates some parmesan, and using the world's best pizza slicer to cut the pie into eight slices of heaven. And he does this with, as my Gwen perfectly described, "wax-on, wax-off" skill that decodes of practices has reduced to perfection of not only skill but of execution. Wow. I'd go again just to see the man in action.

I savor the thin crust, the tomatoes bursting with flavor, the fresh and flavorful mushrooms all enhanced by the herbs, buffalo mozzarella and olive oil. Best dang pizza I've had since Italy. And now I can admit there is one more reason to venture out to Brooklyn. Thanks, Gwen.