Charlotte M.
Google
Sometimes, when one bites into a slice of pizza, one doesn’t merely taste cheese or sauce, one confronts the mysteries of existence itself. Your kind words reached us like a message slipped under the door of an unknown bureaucracy of flavor confirming that, perhaps, our humble oven does whisper truths in tomato and smoke. The crust, imperfect yet persistent; the cheese, molten yet merciful together they strive, as we all do, to make sense of this strange, delicious world. Thank you kindly from Australia, New Zealand and Germany.
