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Chef-owner Marty Kirschner makes no secret of running a mom-and-pop operation, with his wife helping out on tables while he lovingly tends to the custom brick oven in back. Pizzas are the stars here, oval with a thin, somewhat doughy crust, firm surfaces, and expertly applied singes. The accompanying San Marzano tomato sauce is dense and tangy, available in mild or spicy iterations. Artichokes, olives, and feta cheese form a pizza take on a Greek salad, while mission figs, reduced for five hours, join shallots, red wine, and gorgonzola cheese on the popular fig pie. Juicy tenderloin steak can be ordered as a topping or a sandwich with caramelized onions and gorgonzola cheese. A big antipasto plate leads off the appetizers, along with surprisingly light prosciutto balls and fried calamari. The restaurant is long and high-ceilinged, with rustic scored-wood and exposed-brick surfaces and an appetite-priming orange wall. Mismatched art posters recall the space’s most recent incarnation as a junk shop more than its distant past as a Jewish burial society. — Ethan Wolff

Calamari, $10; beet salad, $10; fig pie, $15.99

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