Have you ever found yourself deep in an Instagram hole perusing beauty shots of fermenting pizza dough? We have, and those close-up views of Ida Pizzeria’s slowly-expanding dough bubbles have haunted us (in the best way) since. That’s because we know what they’re destined to become when they exit the 900-degree wood-fired oven: singed-to a crisp, airy pizzas topped with San Marzano tomato sauce and whatever’s freshest from local farms.

Pizzeria Ida keeps the focus firmly on the food. The centerpiece here is the beautiful tiled blue oven, imported from Naples, and the pies—in Neapolitan or Sicilian style—that emerge from it. Service is at the counter, the menu is pared down, and it’s BYOB. But this is slow food at its finest: dough ferments for days, Parm is aged 30 months, and the tracks on the omnipresent Grateful Dead soundtrack never seem to end. Ida is the kind of place that feels like it could only exist in Vermont, and we are here for it.