th<\/sup>) called Pizza Center. That was the main food item I missed when I moved out here as a teen-ager. (And Joy Fong Chinese food on the block, as well. Boy, that Ave. J was the place to be back then!!!) Every trip home included a whole pie from Pizza Center. When childhood friends would say that they were fans of Di Fara, I couldn\u2019t help thinking just a little less of them, I must admit. There were many of us who felt the same way.<\/p>\nOn a trip home a little over a decade ago, in a snowstorm, I made my poor father drive me to Pizza Center. To my horror, it wasn’t there anymore! My always practical patriarch naively said, “We’ll get you pizza from up the block.” I almost passed out and actually started hollering a tad. I was also crying. He didn’t know what to do, so he kept driving up Ave. J. All of a sudden, I could smell my precious pizza! (Yes, through the snow. True story.) I ran into this new place, and there was Jerry, the pizza guy! Pizza Center had just moved (and changed names,) but I was saved.<\/p>\n
On a subsequent trip, I arrived on a Friday night, and immediately dialed them up to say I\u2019d be right there for a whole pie. No answer. I called for about a half hour, and then my mother said, \u201cIt\u2019s Friday night, and everyone\u2019s religious around here now, so they\u2019re probably closed.\u201d It started dawning on me, like in a Hitchcock movie, that maybe they had turned kosher, like most of the other places on Ave. J. I refused to let myself believe that, but my mind raced for the next twenty-four hours, until kosher places opened on Saturday night.<\/p>\n
When Jerry answered the phone, I let out a sigh of relief, and told him of my, I thought unfounded, concern. He had to confess that he did, indeed, sell to a kosher company, but stayed on as a consultant, and implored me to try it, saying it was the same old pizza. To be nice, I did, but alas and alack, my beloved Pizza Center pizza was no more.<\/p>\n
A few days later, I decided to buck up and give Di Fara one more try, out of respect for hanging in there as it was. But, it was not what pizza from Brooklyn should be, on any level. I vowed to not return, but a couple of years later, when my father had just passed away and friends from Rhode Island were visiting my mother and me to distract us, I wanted to pick-up a quick lunch for them, so we again stopped at close-by Di Fara. First of all, my pals were appalled at how dirty the joint was. (So was I, but I pretended not to notice, in case they<\/em> hadn\u2019t.) And then, they couldn\u2019t believe that this is famous Brooklyn pizza because it\u2019s soooo not special.<\/p>\nAs years went on, I noticed that Di Fara has received many write-ups. Always one to give every one and thing a second chance (and third, and fourth, down the line,) I stopped-by on the way out of town just two short years ago, because I was near-by and needed something quick to eat while I packed. To my shock, there was a line for this pizza! So, I erroneously assumed that it had somehow gotten better.<\/p>\n
But no. It was the same old same old. Greasy, with way too-sweet sauce, and just plain nasty. And I was starving<\/em> then, which is when everything usually tastes better!<\/p>\nAnd now, it\u2019s supposedly coming to my adopted shores. And the good people of Los Angeles will read and hear all the hype, and judge Brooklyn pizza by Di Fara and wonder what all the fuss has always been about.<\/p>\n
So, I\u2019m begging all of you, try it if you must, but please, please, please don\u2019t think this is the standard for Brooklyn pizza. Unless you, too, are among the delusional people who actually think it\u2019s great.<\/p>\n
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TWO NEW YORK FOOD TRANPLANTS \u00a0 As a transplanted New Yorker myself, (a term I loathe,) I understand the urge to move west. But I kind-of hate it when food places do. I like each area of the country to have its own special niche. Part of what makes these indigenous foods such fun is<\/p>\n
Read More<\/a><\/div>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[9],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-1655","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","category-los-angeles-restaurant-reviews"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/itsnotaboutme.tv\/news\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1655","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/itsnotaboutme.tv\/news\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/itsnotaboutme.tv\/news\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/itsnotaboutme.tv\/news\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/itsnotaboutme.tv\/news\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=1655"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/itsnotaboutme.tv\/news\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1655\/revisions"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/itsnotaboutme.tv\/news\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=1655"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/itsnotaboutme.tv\/news\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=1655"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/itsnotaboutme.tv\/news\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=1655"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}
![\"\"](\"http:\/\/www.itsnotaboutme.tv\/news\/wp\/wp-content\/uploads\/220px-Magnolia_Bakery.jpg\" "\\"220px-Magnolia_Bakery\\"")
<\/a>Many years ago, way before the nationwide cupcake-mania, there was Magnolia Bakery in the West Village. I first found-out about it at a dinner near-by with my friends Jeff, Anna, and Lloyd. Jeff knows everything that\u2019s hip and happening in New York, especially foodie meccas. He\u2019s taught me so much in the almost-decade we\u2019ve been friends.<\/p>\n