Friday Food: Di Fara Pizza
On Saturday, after an entire day of scavenging for bottles and bones at Dead Horse Bay and exploring the abandoned hangars at Floyd Bennett Field, Trent and I ended our day crossing yet another New York classic off of our lists: Di Fara pizza in Midwood, Brooklyn.
Owned and operated by Domenico DeMarco since 1965, Di Fara has been named the best pizza in New York by a number of publications and critics, including the Zagat Guide and Anthony Bourdain. I had somehow never heard of it before, but Trent mentioned that it was near the train we needed to take home, and might be a good stopping point after our day of adventuring. He had never been either, so we didn't exactly know what to expect except a really delicious pizza, and that ended up being an understatement.
All of the pizzas are (and have always been) made by Domenico himself —every single one. If he's not available, the restaurant is closed. He makes 100-150 pies a day, imports all of the ingredients and takes one, one-hour break every day. We got there during the break, so we waited in line to be certain we would get a table when they reopened for dinner. It's kind of a confusing system, but we ended up putting in our pizza order at their window about a half hour before they opened the doors. When they finally reopened, we were able to get a table, where we waited about a half hour more before our pizza was finally ready.
The inside of the restaurant is very tiny and with zero frills — I doubt that it has changed much at all since it opened in the 60s. Being able to watch the man himself make the pizza right in front of you is all part of the appeal — he even cuts fresh basil over each pie with a pair of scissors right before it goes out.
We kept it simple with a pepperoni pie, and when it finally arrived we immediately declared it worth the wait after the very first bite. I was determined not to let the hype cloud my judgment of the actual pizza, but I can honestly say that it was one of the best pizzas I've ever had.
The pepperoni was thick and crispy, the crust was thin thin thin, and the addition of the olive oil is a total game changer. From start to finish, we were there about three hours, which is a long time to wait for a pizza that only cooks for a few minutes, but the wait was all part of the experience. It was really nice to slow down for a few hours, and to actually see the person who made our food — for a pizza that good I'd do it all over again soon.
