

Initially, we had heard about DiFaras from Koffman, and had wanted to go last year, but Dom broke his hip and the craft of pizza making there is such that only Dom, who has been running this pizza place alone or with his sons since the 1960's, makes the pizzas. He has been doing this so long that he can take the 600°C pans holding the fresh pizzas

Now that Doms hip was healed, we finally made our pilgrimage. We got there at about 1225 and it was already mobbed, with about 40 people packed in watching Dom and one of his sons make the pies. The lucky few who had pies were greedily downing them at the few tables scattered around the restaurant. We quickly placed an order for a full pie and two pieces of the square pie. The squares came quickly, after about 10 minutes, and we found some space in the back corner and wolfed them down. But the whole pie took another hour and a half, time which we filled watching Dom make pizza and reading the many, many articles about DiFaras all over the walls. Also during this time, Koffman spent a lot of time describing how spectacular the pizza was going to be. When our pie finally came we were ravenous, and wolfed it down in about 20 minutes. And I gotta say, it was completely worth it. Fantastic pizza, perfectly greasy and cheesy, with just the right amount of spice on the top. Incredible. We ate each piece with relish, sopping the extra grease up with


After cleaning the pan, smiling at all the other satisfied customers and generally basking in the glow of the greasy deliciousness we just finished, we made our way out of the place, saying thanks to Dom on the way out. We picked up a black and white and some ruggaluch at the kosher bakery across the street, got in the car and headed back for a long walk in Prospect Park, a perfect way to settle ourselves after such an orgiastic eating experience.
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