Years ago, my husband and I were in Italy, the morning having turned to early afternoon, and we were tuckered out from all the sights we had seen. We found ourselves in one of the small cafes we found just off a secondary road. It appealed to us because the menu was not translated into English, because it was quiet, and because it seemed to be frequented by locals. We sat down to a bottle of cooling water, pondered what to eat, and noticed that they had a pizza oven. The menu was suitably small -- on it was Pizza Margherita. We decided to share one, and oh, my! This was such perfection.