Nick's Pizza

I love, love, love that Nick's is our local pizzeria, although I can't imagine taking it out. I'm sure it's fine once you've carried it home from the restaurant, the cheese cooling and congealing, the crust getting flabby, the sauce getting cold. But it's a transporting experience dining in. There's always a moment, when Todd and I are about halfway through inhaling a small pie, that we look up, interrupt whatever we're talking about, and smile around our chewing. It's good to be alive.

Nick's pizza is one of those thin, crispy, burnt on the bottom crust, just enough sauce and cheese, and fresh strips of basil sort of pizzas. We start with a green salad, which is coated with a great vinaigrette and comes with four cherry tomato halves and a generous grind of fresh black pepper. When the pizza comes to the table, it's just barely cool enough to eat, and there's a moment a few minutes later when the pizza's the perfect temperature, and every bite holds a hint, a sweet tease, of oregano.

I'm ashamed to say, from beginning to end, we don't really linger; we gorge. We can be in and out of Nick's in 30 minutes. But it's a happy 30 minutes, and the glow can last hours.

They've apparently opened a new restaurant in Manhattan (upper east side?) and serve pasta there. As long as our Queens outlet doesn't change, that doesn't bother me.