08/07/2026
Last weekend, we went to a movie in my old neighborhood of Midwood. With little time and nothing much open in the area on a Saturday, we headed to the pizza place I had my first slice at. Ground zero for my lifelong love of pizza, DiFara. I know much has been written about this legendary spot, opened in 1965 and noted by Anthony Bourdain as the best pizza in NYC, but for me, it's always been my corner pizza joint. Many, many times I'd chat with original owner Dom DeMarco about his place, about the fanfare and just about life and family. DiFara, for me, isn't just a great slice, it's the memories. It's a piece of home, of comfort. Dom Passed a few years back and in that time, I've been back a few times and noticed the quality of the pizza has diminished somewhat. No longer "best in NYC", but still worthy of being in the conversation. So, on this night when my daughter and I went there, my expectation was for very good, not great. What we got, however, was vintage DiFara. The triangular slice had no flop, for those Dave Portnoy fans out there. The Sicilian was hefty with just the right mix of sauce, crust and cheese. Both with the freshly snipped basil on top. It transported me back decades and isn't that what truly great food aught to do. Hats off to the wonderful folks at DiFara, Dom's kids. They've returned the place to glory and have renewed my faith in this incredible institution.