Dillon's Wood Fired Pizza

A pizza takes minutes in a wood-fired oven; the idea behind Dillon's took sixteen years. Ricky Dillon carried the concept that long before opening on King Street in the spring of 2016, and the wait reads less like delay than like someone holding out until he could do it his way. What he built is a compact pizzeria in downtown Midland, a few blocks up from Georgian Bay, where hand-made wood-fired pizza is the whole argument and the dining room is small enough that dinner usually means calling ahead.

The craft starts well before the fire. The dough is cold-fermented for forty-eight hours and shaped by hand; the flour is Double Zero Caputo, milled fine the way Neapolitan kitchens insist on; the tomatoes are San Marzano, pureed in-house rather than poured from a can. On the Margherita, that foundation carries fresh Fior di Latte mozzarella and basil and nothing else — the version that tells you whether a pizzeria can actually cook. The Classic adds cup-and-char pepperoni that curls and crisps at the edges. The Deacon piles on Genoa salami, pancetta, chorizo, and caramelized onions, the order for the table that wants everything at once.