Showing posts with label Morningside Heights. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Morningside Heights. Show all posts

Tuesday, September 29, 2009

Koronet Pizza: "You probably already know everything I'm about to write here."

After , Gabby and I finally ditched those squares from the Daily News (jk u guyz r kewl!! lol) and struck out on our own, like a couple of rascally vagabonds. I guess the simile is pretty unnecessary because at various points on and off in both of our lives, both Gabby and me have been rascally vagabonds. And you know what Hegel said in his essay about Kerouac, Of Lordship and Vagabondage, "Once a bum always a bum (no hobo)."

I digress, after freeing myself from the demanding shackles of low-pressure, high publicity media attention, Gabby and I strolled over to .

I'm gonna keep this entry brief, because there has been plenty of writing about Koronet done. They are notable because their slices are enormous, like, the size of two normal slices, but cost less than the price of two normal slices. The current price seems to be holding at $3.50.

This slice is all about big appetites. The size forces it to go into a Dough-Thickness Bracket higher than I generally prefer, for the sake of maintaining structural integrity. Aside from that, the dough is good quality, the cheese is good, ample but not overabundant, and the sauce, although on the sweetish side, is not so bad. Overall the slice is on the above-average side of plain old "good," but the amount of food you get for your money makes it kind of a spectacular bargain. However, I can't help but imagine that if this were a regular slice, at a regular price, it wouldn't be such a great deal, but it might be close to perfect, assuming the dough thinned out equally to the decrease in overall weight for it to hold.

In a world without money, where I can have whatever I want whenever I want (so, more accurately, in a world with money where I am extravagantly wealthy), I would never eat here, because I would fly my rocketbike to DiFara's every time I wanted a slice. But since I am constrained by my limited finances, Koronet is always a pleasure to stop at when I find myself in Morningside Heights because unlike most shticky pizza that prides itself on size, Koronet is actually good quality.

Koronet Pizza
2848 Broadway
New York, NY 10025


I was on the radio this morning on WOR 710 AM on the . It is a short interview and I kind of sound like a dick, but it was first thing in the morning for me, so cut me some slack, huh?

Sunday, September 27, 2009

Giovanni's Pizza Restaurant: "If you read the Daily News, you already know I like this place."

After Che Bella, Gabby and I strolled down to the next pizzeria on my list, only to find out that it wasn't even there, and the number listed for it in the phone book was an out of service cell phone. Weird sketchy times, indeed! So we hustled over to and were immediately overtaken by the smell of delicious pizza as soon as we walked in.

The place smelled phenomenal, and the guy behind the counter looked like the perfect 'I don't give a fuck' pizzadude. Greasy apron, shirt halfway untucked, backward hat just barely holding the hair out of his face. I used the word shlubby to describe him in the , and some people took umbrage with that. (Most notably Daily News Commenter Nomorracism, who remarked, " Isn't that a jewish saying? What does it mean though? It sounds disrespectful, but that's not suprising since they think they are better than everyone else who is not jewish." Thank you Nomorracism, for your insightful anti-semitism.) I just want to take a minute to clear the air and mention that I did not use the word "shlubby" in an even remotely pejorative sense. As a lifelong shlub myself, I feel a certain kinship with anyone else who can't seem to keep their shirt tucked in. And this particular guy's brand of slovenliness was almost post-coital looking, with Making of the Pizza being akin to the Physical Act of Love. And such good love (or pizza) had just been made, that homeboy could not bother to fix his appearance afterwards, because in light of that transcendent experience, who cares about societal norms regarding tucked shirts or restrained locks?

The pizza: guy just handed me a slice, perfect temperature, right off a tray behind the counter. When I come back here, I'm gonna ask to have my slice reheated a bit because I prefer that extra crunch, but holy zombie Moses, this pizza was pretty damn good even lacking in such an elementary and important textural factor. The cheese was top quality, the dough was made perfectly, thrown perfectly, given ample time to rise. But the sauce was really what made this slice. It was sweet in this really natural way, like fresh, homegrown tomatoes right off the vine. It was definitely spiced, but all it really tasted like was delicious fresh tomatoes, and that taste added an element to this otherwise pretty good slice that put it right over the edge into the realm of greatness. As Gabby was eating his he said, "eating this slice is actually making me more hungry!" And not in that way where you are bummed out that you're eating something so you get hungry as an excuse to eat a new thing afterwards, but in a way where you are so pumped on something's intricate and totally awesome flavors that you get hungrier just thinking about it as you eat it.

S & D Giovannis
1011 Columbus Ave
New York, NY 10025

Che Bella Pizza: "This place is what it would be like if Starbucks opened a pizzeria."

I was really excited about eating pizza this week because I was heading out for slices with my good pal who was in town for a day to have a book release for his awesome new comic at . Either way, not only was I excited about my rad buddy having a new book out, but I was pretty thrilled at the prospect of hanging out with him. Gabby has this weird way of combining being a totally bitter, acerbic curmudgeon with still believing in shit in a totally rad and excited way. It's a good balance to strike, because people who are too starry-eyed about changing the world tend to be so delighted with themselves it is infuriating, and people who are lifestyle-grumps are oftentimes such a pain in the ass to hang around, but the combination of the two balance each other out perfectly. Blah blah, enough praising the wonderful people in my life, onto trashing crappy pizza.

. It's crazy because the human personification of this pizzeria was standing outside, like a shapeshifting wizard who could somehow assume two forms at once. Inside was exactly what you would expect from the crappy outside. Bright orange walls, the table and chair setup made me think I was in a Subway, and the people who were working on the weird assembly line behind the counter seemed miserable. The slices on display looked like crap to the point that I almost called it off because this obviously wasn't pizza. When ordering, I asked the guy if they even had regular slices. The guy told me that they sure do, I paid my $2.50 and he handed me a regular looking slice.

It's strange that they keep the not horrible looking slices hidden and the whack bullshit on display, but whatever, it's not my business. The slice itself: the cheese was good, the sauce was superb, not too sweet, but maybe tasted a little too much like a can. The bread, though, was so crappy it rendered the slice majorly awful. Maybe cooking the slice adequately would help, but I feel like it's an issue of the dough recipe. Here's what happened, the top of the dough, where it should be soft and somewhat fluffy, was this like, awful dense paste, and it turned the entirety of every bite into a totally dense, awful paste. The worst feeling ever in my mouth. Pizza loves, save this place for college students who don't care how good their pizza is.

Che Bella
1215 Amsterdam Ave
New York, NY 10027
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