In the annals of towns with animal names, Beaver, Pa. -- whose very mention elicits a chuckle from a stranger who might envision a thriving metropolis of buck-toothed, industrious rodents -- takes its place alongside Bumble Bee, Ariz., Chicken, Alaska, and Turkey, Texas.

	Mario's Woodfired Pizzeria is at 406 Third St., Beaver, 724-774-9300. Cafe Kolache is at 402 Third St., Beaver, 724-775-8102 or www.cafekolache.com. Suggestions? E-mail: munch@post-gazette.com

More pleasant sounding than Tick Bite, N.C., Worms, Neb., or Roach, Mo., and not nearly as strange as Cat Elbow Corner, N.Y. (cats have elbows?), Beaver is as quaint a small town as one might find in this neck of Penn's Woods. An ethnic Mayberry, its denizens descended from Italian and Eastern European stock, a place where Floyd the Barber would be named Giovanni and Ciotka Bee would whup Opie's dupa if he missed supper.

So Munch and the stout Hefty Buddy of Munch (H-BOM) were hardly surprised while lunching at Mario's Woodfired Pizzeria in Beaver, that owner Mario Fratangeli knew by name nearly every customer who walked through the door.

He knows food too.

That was immediately evident when Munch and the aptly anagrammed H-BOM split an appetizer of Caprese ($4.50), vine fresh tomato slices with cuts of buffalo mozzarella (moozadell to you aspiring Artie Buccos) on a bed of spring greens and kalamata olives, drizzled with virgin olive oil and sprinkled with cracked black pepper and sea salt.

Munch perused the menu of 10 authentic Neapolitan pizzas, made in a 4,400-pound wood-burning oven imported from Naples. Available in 6-inch ($3.50-$5.50) and 12-inch models ($5.50-$8.50), pizzas are cooked at 750 degrees from the heat of oak and cherry wood. Munch went for a paper plate-thin 6-inch Pizza Speciale ($4.25), made with a sauce of crushed tomato, buffalo mozzarella, basil olive oil and grape tomatoes.

Almost elegant in simplicity, each bite practically evaporated in Munch's mouth; the perfect little spheres of melted mozzarella were a constellation in the celestial tomato sauce.

H-BOM gnawed a plate of gnocchi ($6), made on site from scratch. The doughy, sticky potato pasta balls in a homemade marinara put him in mind of Sunday dinners with his Italian parenti.

Though a Tuscan red would have made the meal perfect, Munch and H-BOM each settled for an iced tea, as Beaver is a dry town. This left Munch to wonder, what is it with these great, authentic pizza joints in dry towns? The stalwart Roberto's is in bone-dry Bellevue but both places do allow patrons to BYOB.

Like the food, Mario's decor is simple but appealing. Mustard walls are adorned with black-and-white photos of contemporary Italy. A grapevine is painted on the walls by the entrance.

Service was attentive and friendly. One waitress said that she's learned to make gnocchi working at the restaurant, to the dismay of her grandmother who refused to give her the family recipe until she had a home and family of her own. Another waitress, a Duquesne student, spent last year in Rome, allegedly studying the classics -- but based on the faraway gleam in her eye when speaking of her travels, Munch and H-BOM suspect her "research" was done at a Piazza Navona cafe with a carafe of red wine, assisted by some chap named Carlo.

For dessert, the duo sampled two kinds of gelato ($3) made by the Mulberry Street Creamery in Kittanning. The Dulce de Leche, caramel flavored with a caramel ripple and chocolate chunks, was as rich as Croesus; and the Stracciatella, or Italian chocolate chip, might as well have come from a corner gelateria in Trastevere.

Though full from the feast, Munch would be remiss to have sojourned all this way and not stopped at Cafe Kolache, a coffee shop and bakery next door specializing in the namesake Czech treat.

Made with slightly sweetened yeast dough, a kolache is a small pastry traditionally filled with apricot, cottage cheese, poppy seed or lekvar, a prune butter. Cafe Kolache offers nearly 30 varieties filled with fruits, meats, cheeses or vegetables, making their version of the confection a nice part of breakfast, lunch and dessert.

Munch and H-BOM each had a fruit & cream cheese kolache (75 cents) for the trek back to the city, along with a cup of Prestogeorge French Roast.

Naples and Prague side-by-side in a town called Beaver. Munch would enthusiastically raise a glass and say Salut! or Na Zdravi! but Munch'd have to go down the road to Bridgewater to do it.