San Marino doesn’t look like much from the outside. Brick walls, neon sign, whatever. But walk in — boom — you’re hit with that old-school Italian vibe. Nothing fancy, no bullshit. Just pizza. Good pizza.
When I was a kid, I’d watch the pizzaiolo launch dough into the air like he was NASA. UFOs made of mozzarella and tomato sauce spinning above my head — burned into my brain forever. That’s the magic. Nothing changes here — and that’s exactly the point.
