It Depends What You Want. Anthony's Wood-Fired Pizza

Sylvia Linke told me about Anthony's.  She had eaten there, and she said it was great.  I mentioned it to Chuck Ross, when he and I were trolling for what to do about dinner, and he'd heard about Anthony's, and had wanted to try it.  I said we should.  He scolded me for being unfaithful to Dana Lulic (of Tomato & Basil), but he didn't disagree that we should try Anthony's.

Anthony's is in the strip mall on the north side of 123rd Street, in the block just east of Biscayne Boulevard.  It's the complex where LA Fitness is.  Anthony's is the last storefront to the east.  It's very new, having opened just a few weeks ago.

You don't feel Anthony's until you're right there.  You're greeted at the door by a trio of employees.  Two are 20-something girls, and the other is a 20-something boy.  They all smile, they're all very cute, and they couldn't be more inviting.  You have to realize Anthony's hires them to greet you.  They're not going to become your new BFF.  If you're there to take out, as Chuck and I were, they point you to the diagonally opposite corner of the room, to the desk that says "Take Out."  You make your way back there, where you encounter another trio of Anthony's cuties.  These are even friendlier than the ones at the door.  They literally nuzzle up against you, while you're making sense of the menu, and if you're not careful, you'll wonder whether it's the pizza, or the employees, you're there to consume.  I called one of the girls "my love," and she called me "darling."   Chuck and I had a slightly complicated pizza order, but she helped us settle on how to make it happen.  She then invited us to have a seat at the bar, where we met Veronica.  We thought Veronica, who reciprocally needed to know our names, too, would have served us anything, but Chuck settled for a beer.  I had already had one at home earlier, and I was thinking about the two bottles of wine that were waiting for us back at my house, so I passed.  Chuck got his Peroni, although Veronica scolded him that he should try something he couldn't get just anywhere (I'm not sure whether she was offering some other beer, or something else).  She brought him a taste of the house special, a beer they call "Fuhgeddaboutit."  It was very good.  And about $7.50.  It pays, apparently, to be friendly.  Chuck's Peroni cost $6.50.

Here's the thing about Anthony's: you feel like you're in another world.  The real world is suspended.  You can fall in love in Anthony's.  You can make love in Anthony's.  I told the girls I would be back to pick them up when their shift was over, which they told us was 11:00, and they agreed.  At Tomato & Basil, I tell Dana that I hope she and Leandro are the best couple in the history of the world, but if it turns out they're not, I want to know about it.  Dana knows I'm serious.  When I tell the girls at Anthony's I'll be back to pick them up at 11:00, they know I'm not.  It's really harmless and liberating fun.

At some point-- the promised 20 minute wait flew by very quickly-- our pizza was ready.  It was a "large," but smaller than I expected.  And with the array of toppings we ordered, it cost about $22.50.

Anthony's is lively and loud.  It's almost raucous.  It's crowded, everyone is having a good time, the TVs are on (sports, I think), and it's wall-to-wall flirting.  If you're not in a mood to flirt, don't waste your time at Anthony's.

As we were leaving, I realized something that hadn't been obvious at the beginning.  The front panel of glass doors at Anthony's retracts, and the inside of the store extends to the outside.  The limit is a convex metal fence that encloses several smaller tables.  Outside at those tables were dads and moms and their kids.  They were busy having their own kind of fun.

Chuck and I left, and the cuties at the front door greeted us as warmly on our way out as they did on our way in.

The pizza was good, but not better than some others, and not nearly as good as the pizza at T & B.  On the other hand, no pizza is as good as the pizza at T & B.  And the pizza at Anthony's cost a good deal more.

If you want great pizza, for a very good price, and you want a casual but sedate experience, and you want to deal with the loveliest woman there is (or the loveliest couple, if Leandro's there), go to Tomato & Basil.  If you want to kick loose, have fun, flirt, have perfectly decent food, and wind up with a big smile you can't fully explain, go to Anthony's.