For all the upscaling that has been thrust upon the pizza — the Neapolitan flours, the wood-fired ovens, the word "artisan" — the pizzaioli of San Francisco have not changed our core belief that a pizza pie is a communal meal. Sure, a restaurant map of San Francisco would be speckled with by-the-slice windows, but we have grown up on pizza-parlor birthdays and TV viewing nights decorated with stacks of delivery boxes. We may now be willing to pay $20 for a perfectly blistered pizza topped with foraged chanterelles and buffalo mozzarella, but we want to eat it... More >>>
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