I went to Di Fara Pizza

Never Done: Went to Di Fara Pizza

I have been meaning to go to Di Fara for six years -- ever since my (gorgeous and talented) friend David told me it's the best pizza in New York. We were on a writing retreat in Florida at the time, and David was missing all things New York, so I didn't immediately catch on to the significance of Di Fara, but when we got back to New York and he still talked about it, it went on my list of things to do. But I didn't. I was actually not living in New York at that time -- I was exiled in Jersey -- but I came to Brooklyn enough that I could have driven to Midwood to eat a slice. But I didn't. And then I moved back to Brooklyn 18 months ago, and I have meant to go -- I really have -- but I can't even tell you the last time I was even in Midwood. Yes I can, and it was before I moved to New York, probably 15 years ago, when I was visiting my friend Carol's parents on East 18th Street, a mere 3 1/2 blocks from Di Fara, and yet I had no idea what I was near.

But a day came when I was taking the car out on errands in Ditmas Park, Kensington, Windsor Terrace, and Flatbush, so I decided to build the schedule around finally going to Di Fara. I looked up their hours, I had a light breakfast, and started out on my errands. As the morning drew on, my anticipation built. I'm not a huge pizza eater -- I eat maybe a dozen slices a year. Not even. So the fact that I was getting excited about pizza is saying something.

When the time came, I cruised down Coney Island Avenue, and then swung over on Avenue J. I found street parking on a side street, even with all the snow, and hopped out into the cold. Some random website had guided me to pair my slice with Krusovice beer from the supermarket across the street, but I didn't even get that far, because .... Di Fara was closed. I had checked the hours, and they said 12 to 4:30, and 6-9PM. But the gates were down, and the sign on the door said 1-4:30, and 6-9PM. It was 12:15, and the day was all planned out, so there was nothing to do but walk away and squeeze in another errand before my next appointment.

Lately I've been feeling a little guilty about my Never Done year -- which is to say I've been relying a little heavily on trusting that a Never Done moment will pop up during my day, rather than setting out with a firm plan. But I'm not going to feel guilty any more, but rather accept whatever works. And make plans to go back to Di Fara.