On November 8, 2013, I got engaged in New York City with dream-come-true views of the Manhattan skyline and Brooklyn Bridge.
Before basking in the beautiful, breathtaking sights, I had to survive a full day of surprises. Delightfully, the first surprise involved pizza — my favorite food. We started the day in Midwood Brooklyn, stepping into Di Fara Pizza, an unassuming corner pizzeria with fluorescent lights and outdated floors. Crowded in the longest line, when we finally got to the counter, the cashier pulled out a pen and pad to take down our order.
This was the point we realized we were in for an experience. . .
Legend has it, Domenico “Dom” DeMarco, founder of Di Fara Pizza, has made pizza the same way since he emigrated from Provincia di Caserta in Italy to Brooklyn, New York and opened the pizzeria in 1965. When I say Di Fara Pizza is Brooklyn’s best pizza, it’s not sentimentality or a stretch of the imagination. Truly, as declared by New York Magazine, Di Fara Pizza is, “The holy grail of classic New York–style pizza,” while the New York Times says, “Domenico Demarco defined the New York slice.”
Still, Di Fara Pizza is Brooklyn’s best pizza not just because of how the pizza tastes, but because of how it’s made.
That day, as my then fiancé (now husband) and I stood there waiting for our order, we watched Dom unhurriedly spread slow-cooked sauce on the pizza pies, unhurriedly sprinkle mozzarella di bufala (mozzarella made from buffalo milk), and unhurriedly scatter snipped basil and hand-sliced pepperoni atop each pie. I say “unhurriedly” because Dom prepared each pie at a speed countercultural to the fast-paced mode of most New Yorkers.
To give an idea of just how unhurriedly Dom worked — we waited well over an hour for a total of three slices of pizza.
By the time we got our three slices, I was hungry and hangry. We ate our pizza on-the-go because the unexpected long wait made us late for the next scheduled surprise. I grabbed a slice from the box, folded it in half, and took a bite as grease gathered in the nooks and crannies of crust and melted cheese. My goodness, that slice of pizza was, indeed, the best we’d ever had. We felt bad that we’d complained about the wait and were kicking ourselves for only ordering three slices to split between the two of us.
Fast forward to November 2024, just months after our ten-year anniversary, my husband and I made our way back to Brooklyn. During our visit, we placed an order for pick up, this time a whole pie. With just one bite, we sat in the car (yes, again) astonished that — even after the passing of Dom in March 2022 — Di Fara Pizza hadn’t changed.
Surprisingly, reflecting on Di Fara Pizza and Dom’s legacy inspired me to ponder my faith in God in some deep and delightful ways. Here are a few things I learned that I hope will encourage you, too.
God stays the same. I’m amazed that Di Fara Pizza tasted exactly the same as it did over a decade ago. But my life is so very different… My body has changed due to health issues (I’m now gluten- and dairy-free, but I gave myself this one exception). My marriage, in simplest terms, is well beyond the honeymoon stage. And yet, as I contemplate how much my life has changed, I ponder the consistency of God — how God is the same today, yesterday, and forevermore. There’s a kind of reliable comfort in that, like coming back home to your favorite food.
God is intimately involved. Part of what makes Di Fara Pizza so treasured is the legacy of Dom’s approach to making pizza. It’s been said he believed that only one person should make the pies. He didn’t hand off the tedious work of spreading the sauce or turning the pizza by hand in the hot oven. He did the work himself, each day showing up to make pies, up to 150 pies a day. It reminds me of how God is intimately involved with each of us, deeply dedicated to even the seemingly trivial details of our lives.
God’s plan is always worth the wait. I still kick myself for complaining all those years ago. While Di Fara Pizza continues to be family-owned and operated, I’ll never get the chance to have a pie made by Dom himself. Sometimes in my life (okay, most times), I still feel like newly-engaged Rachel, huffing and puffing at the pizza counter, wanting the line to move faster and the pizza to come quicker. One lesson that I’m working on learning this year is to trust God’s plan (and timing), even when it feels foggy, frustrating, and slow.
God’s goodness is too good not to share. Currently, Di Fara Pizza has 53K followers on Instagram, 4.2K reviews on Google, and 4.1K reviews (with 2.5K photos posted) on Yelp. Di Fara Pizza has been featured in a variety of YouTube videos and articles. Many pizza makers in New York City name Dom, and his signature style, as inspiration for their pizzerias. Affectionately cherished, it goes to show — when something, or Someone, is proven tried and true, others will unapologetically share the good news.
Amen and amen, may we always, unapologetically, share the Good News. . .
Friends — which of these life lessons are you currently learning? Comment below and share a little bit about what God is showing you — I’d love to hear your story!
Reader Interactions
No Comments
We'd love to hear your thoughts. Be the first to leave a comment.