Want to be instantly transported to Italy? Grab a pinsa from La Casina.

It’s an age-old American tradition: A couple travels to Italy and returns to gush, constantly, to everyone they know, and everyone they don’t know: Oh, I could have stayed forever.

Angela Andellini and Fabrizio Costantini flipped the script when the Italian couple’s U.S. honeymoon accidentally turned into a scouting trip.

The pair flew to the States from their home in Rome, where they owned and operated a pinsa restaurant, to celebrate their young marriage in New York, San Francisco and Los Angeles. They fell in love with America — the vistas, the cities, the people. They spent the next several years returning to the United States to tour the country the opposite way it was settled, starting on the West Coast. They visited a new region each year, looking for a place to one day call home.

Luckily for us, they fell especially in love with D.C.

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And more specifically, they fell in love with the Eastern Market neighborhood on Capitol Hill.

For years, they kept an eye on the American real estate market — especially in the D.C. area — hoping a space would become available where they could open a pinsa shop. The pandemic struck. Seventh Hill Pizza, a few doors down from the market itself, closed down. Sad for it, but serendipity for the couple: an available space in the area they liked that already contained a built-in pizza oven.

In 2021, after 40 years in Rome, they were finally able to traverse the Atlantic permanently.

Now, anyone who wants to escape to Rome for an hour or so just needs to wander over to Seventh Street SE to La Casina DC.

Which is pretty lucky for me, because I’m one of those Americans who honeymooned in Rome with my wife, Maoria — yes, the one I dragged to a 22-degree Indian picnic earlier this year — and whined endlessly about returning to the States.

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But at a cozy table loaded with carbs and spritzes at La Casina, it was as if we’d never left.

It isn’t the music, or the wine list, or the spritzes, or the decor, or the TV playing a video loop of Roman streets and landscapes. It isn’t even the Italian chatter you hear drifting throughout the small restaurant. Though all of that certainly helps.

It’s the pinsa.

Pinsa is a type of Roman pizza, though to the uneducated American eye, it might look more like a flatbread, given its oval shape. The key is the dough — high moisture, low gluten and very little yeast. It resides in the refrigerator for at least 24 hours before being stretched into an oblong shape, topped and tossed into the 700-degree oven.

Each bite produces a satisfying crunch before giving way to an almost absurdly light, fluffy, pleasantly chewy bite. Frankly, I’d be happy eating the pinsa base plain, like bread — which is an option, sort of. Le Nuvolette Arrabbiate, a can’t-miss appetizer, is bites of the dough deep fried and served with dipping sauces. Or Le Nuvolette Marinare, which adds anchovies and mozzarella to give the rounds an extra umami punch.

Yes, as you’ll soon learn, the menu items are all listed in Italian (with English descriptions), which made a recent visit feel even more authentic. And frankly, the fact that Maoria, our two friends and I were the only English-speaking guests that night seemed a little over the top. Were all the other customers plants? In fact, La Casina’s appeal to native Italians is a point of pride for Andellini: “You see a lot of Italian people eating together, because they recognize the restaurant is authentic. When you find the Italian people, you’ve found the Italian place.”

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As for which pinsa to choose — well, that was a challenge we’ve faced on every visit.

They run the gamut from simple to complex, veggie-licious to meat-forward. The restaurant imports nearly all the ingredients — 95 percent, Costantini says — from Italy, save for fresh ones like the vegetables, which are local.

La Carbonara and La Cacio e Pepe mirror the pastas they’re based upon — the former a luscious mixture of guanciale, egg, olive oil, pecorino Romano and black pepper, and the latter simply a blend of cheese, olive oil and, of course, black pepper.

My personal favorite — at least, so far; there are so many to choose from — is the Ottavo Colle, topped with lardo, pecorino Romano and truffle-infused olive oil and given a colorful pop by thinly sliced rainbow potatoes and fresh rosemary, all orange and purple and green and perfect.

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Really, you can’t go wrong. Dig pepperoni? Grab La Milanese. Want thin slices of prosciutto? La Bufalina’s your order. Veggie fan? La Vegetariana includes zucchini, eggplant, potatoes and tomatoes, with the option to add olives and artichokes.

Speaking of artichokes, the Carciofi alla Romana (fried artichokes) appetizer will put you right in the center of Rome’s Jewish Ghetto. And don’t sleep on the suppli, the crunchy, gooey, cheesy fried risotto balls, a famed Roman street food.

You can always go ahead and cross the proverbial Rubicon: In this case, to this reviewer, that means going for the White House, a delightfully rich double layer of pinsa dough stuffed with Gorgonzola, cacio Romano cheese, mozzarella di Bufala, pecorino Romano, sun-dried tomatoes with pink salt and black pepper — and green flecks of rosemary and thyme decorating its crusty hood.

As indicated by the name, the space is small, so reservations might be a good idea — especially if you plan to stop by on the weekend, when throngs of (often hungry) people crowd Seventh Street while browsing records, knickknacks, art and produce at the outdoor farmers market. If artfully crafted cocktails are an important part of a meal for you, be warned: The drink menu is wine-focused, aside from a couple of beers and the occasional aperitivo spritz.

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When in La Casina, do as the Romans do: Eat the pinsa as soon as it hits your plate. “In Italy, it’s like a religion,” Costantini says. When the food hits the table, you shut up and eat it hot.

And please don’t ask for substitutions, the couple requests. Each pinsa is a careful, curated dance of flavors. Costantini recalled a customer asking for the cacio e pepe pinsa, hold the pepe. That’s half the dish!

Andellini and Costantini didn’t only design the menu — they make everything on it themselves. No prep line. No line cooks. Just the two of them, working, they say, 16 hours a day to make the dough, to cook the food, to keep the restaurant running.

The neighborhood quickly embraced them. They swiftly attracted a cohort of regulars, and during their first Christmas in the States, a fan brought them a panettone, a cake traditionally eaten during the holidays in Italy.

“We work very, very hard. But when we go home, we are satisfied,” Andellini says. “We can call this project the classic American Dream.”

La Casina DC

327 Seventh Street SE, 202-516-5100. lacasinadc.us.

Hours: 11 to 2:30 p.m. and 5:30 to 9 p.m. Tuesday through Saturday.

Nearest Metro: Eastern Market, 361 feet.

Prices: $5.50 to $24.90 for all items on the food menu.

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