The T‑line may have brought Muni to a crashing halt, but it's done a lot for Dogpatch, and not just its real estate values. Restaurants, cafes, and garden stores have popped up along the Third Street corridor in anticipation of Muni-enabled consumers flocking to the neighborhood. Basing one's business plan on the viability of Muni moving anyone anywhere seems unwise. Basing one's business plan on serving thin crust pizza in a tiny space on an unlikely street corner, however, is a tried-and-true formula in San Francisco (see: Pizzetta 211). The aptly-named Piccino occupies such a corner at 22nd Street and Tennessee. Piccino is little. It has a small menu. It serves small plates of nibbles between lunch and dinner. In the morning you can find Blue Bottle coffee and fresh-baked pastries; at lunch pizza and panini take precedence; dinner (only on select nights) builds on the lunch menu. I haven't experienced breakfast and lunch, but at dinner recently I sampled three of the five pizzas on offer, plus dessert. By sampled I mean split with one other person. Like everything else at Piccino, the pizzas aren't big. Which isn't bad, because it means you can easily order three for two people and not feel too gluttonish or stuffed. The crust is right-on—a perfect combination of crisp and chewy. The toppings are a little less exciting. The night I was there, they had a margherita, napoletano, pepperone, bianco, and a special involving lemon zest and pine nuts. The tomato sauce on the pepperone was a little too acidic for me, and the bianco was a little bland. The real stand-out flavors were on the special, particularly the lemon zest. The pizza is good; we didn't leave any leftovers. Piccino is a great neighborhood restaurant. If I lived in Dogpatch, I would be their most loyal customer. Too bad I live in Cole Valley. This is the Golden Age of Pizza in the Bay Area. With the likes of Pizzette, Pizzeria Delfina, Little Star, and Pizzaiolo around, it's not enough to be good if you want to pull people in from out of the neighborhood. While I'm willing to brave the Bay Bridge for Pizzaiolo, or the Richmond fog for Pizzette, Piccino isn't quite compelling enough for the trek to Dogpatch.