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On February 13th this year, Ian Pike reviewed Buona Forchetta (3001 Beech Street, South Park, 619-381-4844), and got into the sacred issues of what authentic pizza should be.

That’s always been a total mystery to me. But in this case whatever the secrets are don’t matter a jot, ’cause I’m totally seduced by the place itself.

This is the deal: I was walking up Beech at sunset (heading for Hamilton’s, actually), expecting to see the usual empty outside seating area of a one-time coffee place, when I heard this buzz, and spotted this luminous little scene straight out of Renoir – a whole generous sidewalk full of people eating, drinking, yacking, meeting neighbors under the trees.

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I swear. Most eateries give you a mean little strip of chairs and tables outside, and usually behind railings and Plexi-glass to separate you from the common herd of passers-by, right? And their main eating areas are inside. Typical cold-weather thinking. Like every restaurateur has shipped out here direct from New Jersey.

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Not this place. At Buona Forchetta just about all the seating’s outside. That’s where the scene is. They even have a table where you can doodle with chalk as you sip wine and wait to be seated.

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“This feels even more like Europe than cafes in Rio,” says this Brazilian gal as she waits for a table. “This terrazza is perfect for this town.”

Exactly what I feel. When’s everybody else going to wake up to the fact that we’re not New Jersey: we’re a fair-weather city?

Whatever, till that day, this is gonna be my go-to place for sitting, sipping, watching the world go by, to, okay, see and be seen. Specially at sunset.

Hey maybe the food’s even good.

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