Emma Barilari liked her pizza thin. So thin that dollar bills laid flat next to a slice threatened to tower over it. So thin that light passed through it. But, at the same time, she didn't like it as crisp as a cracker; she wanted some pliancy and textural contrast. This takes skill and a particular set of circumstances to achieve, a feat that might even require a "secret family recipe." That might have been a problem, except that Emma and her husband happened to own a restaurant called Mario's.