Friday 13 March 2009

Di Fara's, but first we had to get there.

Finally after all these years I managed to get HI to agree to leave Manhattan and venture to Brooklyn, to taste what many claim to be the best pizza around. Dom De Marco has legions of followers who stand watching him execute his craft in a hypnotic trance.

(Watch the expression on the woman's face when she eats a piece of pepperoni. It's priceless).

Of course there is the debate as to what is better the square or the slice. Many regulars prefer the square which is double baked and has prosciutto in the sauce. So we decided to split the difference and go for two plain slices whilst we waited, and a square pie with half pepperoni. The problem with this plan is that at the end you are left wanting more of one and wishing you had less of the other, but more of that later.

First of all we had to get there. It seems easy enough get the Q train to avenue J and walk one block up. However, the New York City train system is pretty baffling to us lesser mortals. Despite leaving in good time, it took us forty minutes to make what ought to have been just a twenty minute trip. Despite this set back, when we got there there we only three other people standing there. Ordering at DiFara's is an experience.

No one talks.

You look at each other and hope that your telepathic abilities that have lain dormant for years, finally kick in. Fortunately it seemed that two of the ladies were waiting for pies to take away, so I gave my order to Dom's daughter who has the patience of a saint. We grabbed some sodas and a table in the back corner so we could watch what was going on.

The plain slice was great and I now wish I had ordered a whole round pie with pepperoni.

The Sicilian was ready ten mins later which is a bit of a a record as some people have been known to wait over an hour for theirs. I detected more than a couple of glances of envy and actually protectively put my arm round the pie as I carried it to our table. I think we had timed our arrival perfectly, as by this point the counter was full of ravenous wannabe pizza-eaters.

Word of warning. The pies are bloody hot. I burned the roof of my mouth and suffered for days with it. It didn't interfere with my enjoyment of the pie though. This is where personal preference comes in. I like thin pizzas and the Sicilian was a little too thick in the base for me.

The pepperoni does indeed live up to it's reputation, but me being greedy, thought there could have been more of it. I am ashamed to say we couldn't finish the pie but took it with us rather that waste it.

I would go back, now I know how to navigate the trains and the ordering system. 11am is your best shot. And don't listen to what anyone else tells you. If you want a round pie with pepperoni then have it, because that's what I will be having.

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