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| - You know that episode of Seinfeld where George eats a pastrami sandwich while banging his girlfriend? Well, if he'd been eating Pizza A Metro, I'd totally understand.
So. Fucking. Good.
My friend and I split the cheese ravioli in a creamy tomato sauce and a pizza with sausage, broccoli and mozzarella for lunch.
The ravioli were like little pillows of heaven filled with the silkiest melt-in-your-mouth ricotta I've ever tasted. The pizza had that chewy-crispy crust thing happening, and the tomato sauce was incredible - simple, fresh, still a little pulpy.
Everything was homemade. And when I say "everything," I mean they make their own MOZZARELLA, people. Yes, mozzarella. I know how to make a lot of stuff from scratch -- bread, pasta, pastry dough, whatever -- but cheese? I've got no fucking clue.
Not only does Pizza A Metro have a clue, but they're so goddamned nice, too. Case in point: After chatting with the owner throughout our meal, he brought out a slice of the tiramisu. No fanfare, no warning. Just set it down and walked away. We practically licked the plate.
Go there. You won't be disappointed.
But if you see me ordering takeout, just pretend you don't know where I'm headed with it.
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