A little star

In the nine months that I’ve been living in San Francisco, I’ve been trying to find dining equivalents of some of my East Bay favorites. Where in the 415 could I find a Vik’s Chaat Corner or a Cheese Board or a Thai Temple Sunday brunch? I got a little closer to my hunt Friday night when Gabe and I went to Little Star Pizza on Divisadero for an after-work pizza and beer meal.

I’d been craving a Zachary’s-style pizza after the disappointment of Paxti’s several weeks ago. I wanted lots of cheese stringing from the slices, I wanted a thick, rich tomato sauce, I wanted pizza I had to eat with a knife and fork, and Little Star totally delivered.

Gabe and I stepped through the dark-curtained door a little before seven o’clock Friday evening. I was expecting crowds, a hoard of people waiting for their dish of cheesy goodness, an hour-long wait, but there was none of that. The dimly lit restaurant was only about half full and we were seated immediately. The crowd was young, hip (or so I was able to perceive in the near dark) and lively. There were no young children being forced forkful after forkful of pizza by their parents and no large groups of college students wearing Cal hoodies. I could get used to this.

We ordered our beer from their various choices on tap (I chose their Hefeweizen), started with the caprese salad to share, and ordered a small Little Star deep dish pizza. The caprese salad came out quickly. The slices of mozzarella, tomatoes, and basil drizzled with olive oil and balsamic vinegar with olives on the side were delicious. The cheese slices were fresh, soft, little round pillows of white creamy dense fluff. And I could have sat eating the tomatoes with balsamic vinegar all night and have been perfectly satisfied.

Shortly after our waitress cleared our plates away, she carried in our pizza. I was shocked at the speed of its arrival, and we didn’t even place our order before we got seated as happens at Zachary’s. The Little Star was spinach blended with ricotta and feta, mushrooms, onions, and garlic, and it was delicious. The crust was crisp, flakey, and buttery. The tomatoes were rich and tasted fresh (not tinny like Paxti’s). And, the filling stretched long pieces of cheese as I tried to serve us. It was gooey and densely flavorful as a good deep-dish pizza should be. As I finished up my second piece, I rubbed my belly stuffed with cheese and tomatoes and was just about to put my fork down when Gabe suggested we finish it off, which we did.

By the time we were done and paid our check, Little Star had gotten crowded with more young, attractive people, some of whom were eyeing our table. We knew it was time to go home, have some chamomile, and lie down. Even if the pizza place changes, there are some things like the comfort of tea after stuffing oneself silly that stays the same.