Thank you, Nashville.
You’ve given us so much through the years.
Like... um... Lark Voorhies.
And... uh... songs about pickup trucks.
Oh, and this massive pizza place with 40,000 pounds of pizza oven:
It’s the one they call DeSano Pizza Bakery—an immense, Tennessee-imported depot of pizza and pizza-dough sandwiches, opening Monday in Hollywood.
If an industrial US warehouse studied abroad in a European beer hall, it would be DeSano—a huge red-brick-and-concrete building stacked with flour sacks and cans of San Marzano tomatoes ready for one of the open kitchen’s four wood-fired pizza ovens. Each oven’s named for an Italian saint and will cook pies at 900 degrees. Pizza saints are the most important saints.
It’s the perfect spot to meet up with your bluegrass-synthpop band before your next gig at the Virgil: just order at the counter, commandeer a communal table on the floor and congratulate your bassist for remembering to bring the beer. (It’s BYOB for now.)
Won’t take long before your traditional, slightly charred Neapolitan-style pizzas appear, topped with pork or... lasagna. (Think three cheeses and meatballs.) Either way, they’re making enough extra dough to use some for sandwich bread.
Powerful forethought right there.
You’ve given us so much through the years.
Like... um... Lark Voorhies.
And... uh... songs about pickup trucks.
Oh, and this massive pizza place with 40,000 pounds of pizza oven:
It’s the one they call DeSano Pizza Bakery—an immense, Tennessee-imported depot of pizza and pizza-dough sandwiches, opening Monday in Hollywood.
If an industrial US warehouse studied abroad in a European beer hall, it would be DeSano—a huge red-brick-and-concrete building stacked with flour sacks and cans of San Marzano tomatoes ready for one of the open kitchen’s four wood-fired pizza ovens. Each oven’s named for an Italian saint and will cook pies at 900 degrees. Pizza saints are the most important saints.
It’s the perfect spot to meet up with your bluegrass-synthpop band before your next gig at the Virgil: just order at the counter, commandeer a communal table on the floor and congratulate your bassist for remembering to bring the beer. (It’s BYOB for now.)
Won’t take long before your traditional, slightly charred Neapolitan-style pizzas appear, topped with pork or... lasagna. (Think three cheeses and meatballs.) Either way, they’re making enough extra dough to use some for sandwich bread.
Powerful forethought right there.
