Some say Pittsburgh’s Little Italy is in Bloomfield. But those people are wrong. They’ve never been to the secret best Pizza place in Pittsburgh - the backyard of a certain Dan Cardone.
I’m lucky enough to frequent this quasi-pizzeria regularly and it never disappoints. When you get over the shock that there’s a legitimate pizza oven in the backyard (next to the Bocci court, naturally), the surreal thought thatmaybe, just maybe, you’ve been transported to Naples begins to set in.
The oven is a magical thing. Dough, cheese, and sauce go in, and out comes a circular, bubbly, disc, that shares the same DNA as the pizzas served in the heart of Italy. The edges get a little charred during the cooking. But because of the 900 degree temperatures, it remains fluffy and soft on the inside. It’s hard outer shell is just an evolutionary feature of pizza and, obviously, how it’s survived in the wild so long.
No matter what comes out of that oven, it’s automatically added to the list you keep in the back of your mind of the top 10 pizzas you’ve ever eaten. There’s no discussion, no discourse. It’s added onto the list and there’s nothing you can do about it. Then you spend the rest of your life wondering if you’re the type of person who builds a brick oven in your backyard. And guess what? You probably are. Start collecting those bricks.
While my Lawrenceville apartment can’t currently host a pizza oven without fear of burning down a city block, this is the next best thing. Enjoy the photos - they chronicle my latest outing there and what it takes for a pizza to go from a chunk of dough to a slice of heaven.