Maria D's

By far the best pizza I have ever had is from a tiny little shop located in Federal Hill, Baltimore. I familiarized myself with the holy grail of pizza a few years ago once my brother moved into a small town house an alley away. Whenever I was around town, I slept on the brother's couch, fished all day, then scarfed my face with Maria D's. After a long day on the water, anything will taste better, especially a massive pie of cheese, sauce, and pepperoni. As I left the water, I called up one of my brother's friends to see if I could indeed spend the night on the couch. Upon hearing the wonderful news, my next thought was Maria D's and a large pepperoni pie. The mere thought of it cured my lips from their parched state and I began salivating like one of Pavlov's dogs.

Beaver House.

A Great Stretch of Water.

Downstream Look.

Vice Versa.

Nice Little Hole. Lost a Nice One.

Small Feeder Stream.

Choose Your Path.

Things are Starting to Look Green.

With my brother out of Baltimore and in the Caribbean, my tolerance for Maria D's was quite low. After a few slices, my stomach reached max capacity as the grease filled my veins. Normally that pie would be all mine. I saved the rest for the next morning. Waking up on the couch I grabbed all my gear and walked six blocks to the truck. Turning the corner, I prayed that it was still there. It was. Forty minutes later I was stream side with three slices of cold Maria D's. Some say cold pizza is the best. Sometimes it is, especially in the morning. Those three slices fueled my day of fishing like it probably has fueled many others. I rigged up with a streamer again. This time, it was much smaller. A tiny polar fibre minnow tube fly. It owned.

Where is Your Jaw?

Release.

Small Bow.

Old Reliable.

Small Beauty.

Midge Doing Work.

They Couldn't Resist.

First Tube Fly Trout.

Another Look.

Rare Brookie.

They Exist.

A Survivor.

May You Grow Large and Old.

Gorgeous.