1510 Commercial Drive, Vancouver, BC V5L 2Y7
The booths are deep enough to lose the echoes of Don Giovanni's baritone and house the gut of Joey Diaz in his physical prime. The focaccia has more dough than a Nike contract so you'll need the room, and if you aren't baptizing every piece in oil they'll have you whacked on the way to the car. One thing that stood out on their menu for me was the calzone. A lot of pizzerias have shunned the calzone like a tip-lifting George Costanza, but not Sopra Sotto. Essentially you're looking at an entire pizza folded in half stuffed with ricotta. This is the classiest 'zone my eyes have ever seen, like Fred Astaire clapping his feet in a bow tie. Unofficially I've deemed it the "Michaelangelzone". They even serve it with scissors as if a knife is too barbaric, forcing you to sculpt every bite like it's going to end up on the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel. On the other end of the table was a classic ragú that tastes just like a mama used to do. You could feel the discipline in every bite, knowing that any mistake would cost a lashing from a wooden spoon in Nonna's kitchen. And although my latte never came, the hard bar was on point and gave me more reason to rip through an entire tiramisu whipped as light as a cloud. Like any proper Italian meal, when all's set and done my eyes looked like Vincent Pastore and my heart was filled with unexplainable joy.