During my recent unexpected visit to New York I tried to make the best of things and hit up a legendary pizza place in Brooklyn, di Fara Pizza.  It’s a real hike from midtown Manhattan but I had an afternoon to kill.  I was hoping it was going to brighten up an otherwise gloomy day, but guess what?

Damn you Health Inspectors!

So to make it up to myself I headed back to Manhattan for my go-to Napolitano Pizza, La Pizza Fresca in the Flatiron district.  A second tragedy.  The pizza guy there was a master, and now he has gone.  I didn’t find this out until the pizza was before me but it was obvious immediately.  Same oven, same ingredients, different pizza guy; amazing the difference between superior pizza and just average.  Here’s your picture of the not-, and won’t-be-empty plate:

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