And her name is Ava.

And Ava is good.

Correction—Ava is DAMN GOOD.

It’s been a strange week in the Sumstine house.

I’ve been sick.
Not “sniffles and a nap” sick.
I’m talking real sick.

But you know how guys handle being sick, right?

We don’t complain.
We don’t slow down.
We just hunker down, pull up the big boy pants, and keep it moving.

Like the Energizer Bunny…
Just going… and going… and going…

(At least that’s what we tell ourselves.)

There were a couple other bumps in the week too—one of those “dealing with people” situations that just leaves a bad taste in your mouth.

But we’re not doing that here.

Because I’d rather focus on something better.

Something really good.

Enter: Ava’s.

Charlotte and I have found a new spot—and it’s officially in the Dad/Charlotte dinner rotation.

Actually… let me correct that.

It’s not just in the rotation.
It might be batting cleanup.

We’ve been there three times now.

Three.

And not once has it disappointed.

Now, I don’t write about a lot of places.
There was Buc-ee’s (okay… maybe twice),
and a certain Wawa incident that still deserves its own documentary…

But this one?

This one earns a spot.

Ava’s Pizzeria & Wine Bar

Right in downtown Rehoboth Beach—corner of Baltimore Avenue and 1st Street.

And if you haven’t been?

GO.

Yes, traffic is a nightmare this time of year.
Worth it.

Yes, parking is a competitive sport.
Still worth it.

Yes, the wait might be long without a reservation.
Guess what? …Still. Worth. It.

First trip—Lisa, Charlotte, and me.

We started with the focaccia.

FANTASTIC.

Came out with this seasoning on it that I didn’t recognize, so I asked about it.

The server just smiled, pointed to the bottle sitting on the table (that I completely missed), and let me read the label.

At the bottom it said:
“Not meant for your pocket or handbag.”

I respect that level of awareness.

That’s funny.

That’s confidence.

That’s a place that knows exactly what it’s doing.

Now let’s talk pizza.

We’ve gone three times…
and ordered the exact same thing every time:

Detroit Deep Dish.

Could we branch out? Sure.
Will we? Not anytime soon.

Because this thing?

It’s ridiculous.

Light, crispy cheese along the edges—this perfect blend of mozzarella and provolone with just enough parmesan to give it that slight char.

The kind of crust where you don’t leave a single bite behind.

Not one.

And for Detroit style, you’d expect a wait.

Nope.

Comes out quick.

And the price?

Even better.

Charlotte and I—pizza and two drinks—$27.

That’s not just good… that’s dangerous.

This past Saturday, we’re sitting there and I asked her,
“Charlotte, do you know how good this pizza is?”

She plays along.
“How good is it?”

I told her,
“It’s so good that if we walk past a table on the way out and they didn’t eat their crust… I’m taking it.”

Now… I didn’t do that.

But let’s be clear—

I thought about it.

That’s how good it is.

And one more thing—

Same server from our first visit was there again on our third.

She remembered us.

That matters.

Friendly, personable, not hovering, not intrusive—just the perfect balance while clearly handling a busy floor.

That’s not easy to find.

So yeah…

Ava’s.

Make the trip.

Fight the traffic.
Circle for parking.
Wait for a table.

You’ll forget all about it the second that pizza hits.

And if you go—

Tell them BecauseJimSays sent you.

Will it help you in anyway?

Probably not – but hey – who knows.

• Seriously