The one-minute bake

A wood-fired oven doesn't cook a pizza so much as shock it. Ours runs at around 430°C, and at that heat everything happens at once.

Ninety seconds, watched closely

The stone floor sets the base almost instantly, puffing the crust and locking in structure. The dome radiates heat downward, blistering the rim and melting the fior di latte without letting it flood the base. Turn the pizza a couple of times to catch the flame evenly, and it's done — soft in the centre, charred at the edge.

It sounds fast because it is. But it only works because of everything that came before it: a dough that's fermented long enough to brown quickly, and toppings light enough to cook in the same breath as the crust.

Fire is a skill, not a setting

There's no dial for this. Reading the fire — where it's fierce, where it's calm — is the part that takes years, and it's the part we're proudest of. One perfect minute, over and over, all night.