Pizzeria Da Marco, Bethesda, Maryland

When I was beginning my pizza survey a while back, I heard a lot about Pizzeria Da Marco at 8008 Woodmont Avenue in Bethesda, an affluent suburb of Washington. It took me a while to get there in large part because the smallest pizza is 12 inches in diameter. Most small pizzas around here are 10 inches, which is about right for me, and a 12 inch is over 40 percent larger than a 10 inch. I shouldn’t eat that much, but if it’s in front of me, I will.

I finally decided to go for lunch and called Ken DeCell, but he couldn’t go, so I fell back on Plan B and went to Deli City for an admirable pastrami sandwich, and saved Da Marco for a big supper by myself.

I arrived early for dinner and entered Da Marco for the first time. The name, Pizzeria Da Marco, is a little misleading. Da Marco feels not like a pizzeria, but a restaurant. White tablecloths! Granted they were covered with heavy paper, but still. The atmosphere was pleasant with a warm murmur of conversation, largely from the bar which was full of well-mannered people taking advantage of what looked like great Happy Hour deals, as well as from the customers of all ages at the tables. I need to explore the Happy Hour menu. The room is marked by dark wood and soft lighting. Da Marco has an extensive menu of appetizers, bruschettas, “mozzas”, sides, and a few pastas. But the pizzas do dominate the menu. It is indeed a pizzeria, but an unusually gracious one.

Da Marco offers Neapolitan style pizzas cooked with wood in a 900-degree oven.   I reviewed the wide variety of pizza choices, and was sorely tempted by the Solo Carne and a couple of other meaty choices. After my lunch (a hot pastrami sandwich at Deli City), however, I decided to go lighter and ordered the Siciliana, a marriage of tomato sauce, fresh mozzarella, eggplant confit, black olives, capers, oregano, parmesan, and basil.

The pizza was accompanied by containers (not shakers) of crushed red pepper and parmesan.

I was pleased with the pizza. I’d had a concern that the menu listed “black olives” as an ingredient. At most pizza places that means canned olives with little taste. I took heart of grace, however, and these were good olives. The were smaller than Kalamata but tasted similar, so I suspect that they were taggiasche olives, which I’d enjoyed so much at I’m Eddie Cano. The eggplant confit had a bold eggplant flavor but, being vegetable, it lacked the internal fat that adds an extra layer of flavor to duck confit. The tangy tartness of the capers were a smart addition, and the sauce and cheese were just right.

I decided to add some zip and, as I always do, added some crushed red peppers, and found once again that distributing red pepper judiciously is a delicate business.  I also added some of the freshly ground parmesan because it was there. The pizza didn’t need parmesan, but it’s hard to pass up.

The crust deserves a word of praise. The outer ring, which is important to me, was delicious, and the bottom was strong enough to hold the toppings. I should say I didn’t test the points that were heavy with the eggplant confit, and I used a knife and fork much more than I would at most pizzerias, but you can trust the crust.

As I feared, I ate the entire pizza. It was a fine meal — a big meal — and I’ll return to Da Marco for another pizza, perhaps for their Happy Hour when the pizza are either smaller or ridiculously inexpensive. Otherwise, I’ll split a 12 incher with someone and add something light, perhaps an arugula salad. Or perhaps something not so light. Sigh.

My thanks to those who suggested Da Marco. Those of you who have been to Da Marco will almost certainly go again. Those of you who have not need to hustle on over. It’s good

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