OK, Preface: Today San Francisco was paralyzed with happiness at winning the World Series; downtown was blocked off, everyone wore orange and no one was mean, not that they ever are. I put aside my PSG, Brazil and Orioles' hats and bought one in orange. But that meant, because downtown was on lockdown, I ate nearby, no hardship that.
Zero Zero, named for the flour not the sports score, has always delivered for me. I went in and after successfully avoiding a soft-kill-your-back banquette, installed myself on the second (American second) floor. I came for the pizza but I needed a starter while it cooked and my most glorious waitperson, one Mary B., came up with a solution - a small portion of some firey peppery raddicho with EEVOO and Balsamic and pepper - perfetto! Then I had their pizza Castro (named for the gay district not the very un-gay dictator, I'm sure); perfect again with mild cheese, favorful sausage and spicy sotta sopra, plus its burnt outer crust.
With a double ristretto (exceptionally good coffee), a half-bottle of wine but no bottled water, my bill was $53.13 before tip.
Anything amiss John? Yes, the nice music fro my era, was deafening.
