When I thought about it, I realized that 750ml was not to blame for any apprehension. The employees were nice, genuine and very pleasant. There is no reason to judge an establishment by the crowd it attracts at a particular time on a particular day.
I looked down at my petite plate and the fancy, glistening fork in its grasp.
"What do you expect, it's a wine bar," I thought to myself.
When my order arrived I let any discomfort or ill thoughts go.
The pie was poetic. The cheese blanketed the dough like a melting quilt with the sauce lying beneath in a dream state. A myriad of vegetables, spinach, green pepper, onion and tomato, rest on top, glued by the molten cheese.
Not every pizza is good with vegetables, not a lot of pizzas are good with a lot of vegetables. This one is.
The sauce had a slight sweetness. The cheese and toppings stayed on for the ride through every bite.
Once you ingested the body, it was not the end of the line. You still have a buttery, soft crust that crisps on the outside with a hint of garlic. The melted cheese shelled over adds the perfect touch.
I look around the restaurant, wondering why these aristocrats and hipsters are not joining in on the epic deliciousness.
I shake my head and start a conversation with the employees. I thought aloud and asked why it seems like we are the only people in the place eating the great pizza.
The answer surprised me.
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