Visit the RFT restaurant page late tomorrow afternoon or check back here Wednesday morning to see what I think.Anthonino's Taverna wasn't our original destination. I can't recall what was. Suddenly, an hour before our planned departure, I craved pizza. Or, rather, I craved a pizzeria. I wanted checkerboard tablecloths, candles in old Chianti bottles with wicker bases and fat shakers of red pepper flakes and grated Parmesan last filled during the Clinton administration. The quality of the pizza wasn't irrelevant -- those who claim there's no such thing as bad pizza haven't eaten enough pizza -- but more than anything else I wanted that old-school-pizzeria vibe.
I had no idea whether Anthonino's would meet my requirements. I still can't say why it was the first possibility to enter my mind. I'd never been there, though I'd driven past its location on the Hill often enough to suspect it would be a friendly neighborhood spot. I didn't even know if it served pizza. Whatever the reason, after checking the menu online -- confirmed: pizza -- we were on our way.
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