There's a remarkable little pizza joint near my house. They have a big wood-fired oven crammed into a restaurant the size of a walk-in closet. There are three tables pushed against the wall, and a few seats at the bar, pressed up beside that blazing oven. Oh, and you enter through a convenience store, sidling past Diet Coke and bubblegum into this dimly-lit, miniature pizza parlor. But its size is in opposite proportion to its imagination and personality: this place turns out amazingly good pizza, including one that had me do a double-take, then fall promptly in love.