The World Famous Little Italy Pizza: "The Final Trial."

If you're unfamiliar with the Odyssey, you may be lost on this reference, but trust me on this, 45th Street between 5th and 6th Avenues is the Strait of Messina and the Isle of the Sirens all rolled into one! Of the entire palette of harrowing experiences for your palate this block is poised confront you with, The World Famous Little Italy Pizza may be the most devious. It's easy to tell that Ambrosia and Metro Market are gonna suck because of how they look, and Milk'N Honey is a Kosher joint, so you can know the steer clear of it altogether. But passing all those places and seeing all those neon PIZZA! signs begins to whet the appetite, so when you finally arrive in front of TWF Little Italy, you might think to yourself, "this place looks alright, and I've been thinking about pizza for this whole long block, maybe I should go try a slice here." BUT DON'T BE FOOLED.

When we walked in, Nate and Cory sat down and I strolled down the narrow corridor to the counter in the back to order my slice. It was ungodly hot inside Little Italy, almost like I had stepped into the bowels of Hell. When I went to order my slice, the fellow at the counter told me there was a fresh pie coming out. I told him I was fine with a reheated slice and he said that there were no regular slices. Okay, whatever, maybe the place is so popular they can't keep up with demand. Or maybe it's so slow their regular pie finally got finished after 3 hours and no one noticed until it was too late.

Whatever, I can wait, and I don't mind. I do tend to prefer a reheated slice, but that's because I like my pizza more on the well-done side. Since slice pies are made to get reheated, they are usually not cooked all the way through and thusly a very fresh pie is oftentimes not as crisp as I prefer. This concern proved to be totally groundless at Little Italy, though.


The slice that I received from their fresh pie was burnt to a crisp. Not it that awesome way where shit rules and has kind of a charcoaley flavor, but in the way where everything just tastes like BURN and is total garbage. By the time I walked the slice back to Nate and Cory it seemed cool enough to eat, and let me say, this pizza was godawful. Nate said it tasted like "soup and a cracker." Similarly, I thought the sauce tasted like dollar store minestrone. This is only going to be relevant for VERY FEW readers, but it tasted JUST LIKE the minestrone soap they sell at the dollar store on 7th and Mandela right across from the West Oakland BART station.

The crust was a sham. It was so brittle and weird. Nate said it made his teeth feel funny. Cory and I were discussing the way the bits of bread broke apart and we decided it felt like when John Spartan smashes frozen Simon Phoenix's head in the end of Demoliton Man--our teeth were Sylvester Stallone's boots and the dough was Wesley Snipes' head and our mouths were that weird laboratory except, not cold. Just remember: this slice sucks.

Rating:


The World Famous Little Italy Pizza - $2.75
55 W 45th St
New York, NY 10036