Although some purists may call for a recount—citing evidence that flatbread is not technically a pizza—I say let the ruling stand. There’s fresh dough, creative toppings and sauce on a pie that’s cut into slices. I don’t care what they call it; it’s pizza. They cook it in a giant wood burning stove right there in the middle of the restaurant. The crust is always perfectly crunchy and thin which means I can eat twice as many slices before I get that glazed-over look in my eyes.
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