Live in this city long enough and you develop a love-hate relationship with Domianos Mr. Pizza.
When I first moved to LA the pizza was perfect. To this day, the interior of Domianos makes me think of a brief happy time in my life involving dark lights, late nights, strong beer, intense coupling, and carrots dipped in blue cheese. Perfect pizza. Young love.
Later, there were the depressing soggy years, the even longer burnt years, the years of pizza ruined by bad delivery service and a brief period of foul toppings. At the same time, love was crushed by bitterness and recriminations.
Maybe. But love flourished again and the pizza did not. Until tonight.
I picked up a thin crust mushroom and sausage pizza tonight on my way home. Perfection.
Glorious cheese, excellent toppings, perfectly restrained sauce, with a crust that was crisp but not burned or hard, tender but not soggy.
Harmony, my folks, at last.
My husband, a NY and CT pizza-phile said it was the best eaten in five years, at least.
If you have any fragile sense memories of grand pizza pies past, even if they were too often crushed by recent events, then go now. I can't guarantee how long this perfection will last but I, for one, am going to stay up late in this great city.
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