I Heart NY...Pizza

This past weekend, my boyfriend Keenan and I spent the day in Manhattan. My parents and I drove down to NY to vist my grandmother, so I took the train into the city to meet up with him. It was such a great summer afternoon in New York. We had lunch at the Oyster Bar in Grand Central, which was good, but way overpriced. Then we kept cool at The Frick Collection, which we both loved. The beautiful building itself, with its indoor garden and pool, stands in such contrast to the harsher structures of the city. We crossed 5^th and relaxed in the park for a while. Our demanding afternoon naturally required that we replenish ourselves with some frozen yogurt, which we picked up at Butterfield’s. Keenan unknowingly ordered a medium, which turned out to be a massive serving, and melted to a soup before he could even finish it. More wandering and strolling brought us to Murray Hill to check out his new apartment building. After that, it was, of course, time to eat again!

Normally, Keenan leaves the restaurant-picking up to me. During my internship in New York City last summer, my biggest hobby became pouring through restaurant reviews and menus and picking the spot for our weekend dinner out. Well this time Keenan did the picking, and boy, did he choose right…Pizza!

We went to this hole in the wall place called Pizza 33 on the corner of (you guessed it!) 33^rd and 3^rd. With only a few tables in the joint, we actually had to stand whilst pizza-eating, as the hot mozzarella dripped down our chins. Upon Keenan’s recommendation we both ordered 2 slices of margherita pizza. Little did I know that a slice was actually bigger than the size of my head; but this was not a problem, as I always have an appetite for good pizza. And this was not just good pizza…it was fantastic! The crust was so perfectly thin without being burnt, yet was still doughy and chewy. The sweet tomato sauce was in perfect balance with the buttery mozzarella. Under the mozzarella rounds were fresh basil leaves, which added another level of freshness and lightness to a surprisingly gourmet-tasting pizza from your corner pizza stop. Keenan was such a fan, he even went back for 2 more slices. I easily could have kept pace with him (it was so light—unlike most greasy, heavy pizza—it almost felt healthy!), but I restrained myself for fear of looking like a total glutton.

Come to think of it, most of my best pizza experiences have been with Keenan. On my first night in NYC last summer, he took me to Lombardi’s in Nolita for dinner. Also margherita style, and memorably delicious. And then there were the many late nights at BC of Pino’s Pizza, after stumbling across the street from Mary Ann’s. The later it was, the better the pizza tasted.

There was also the time when I attempted to show Keenan a good pizza. I insisted that he try Ben’s Pizza in the Village. Ben’s was down the block from my NYU freshman dorm, and it was where everyone went whose fakes couldn’t get them into a bar. I always remember thinking Ben’s had the best pizza I ever had. Apparently that was before I tasted real pizza. Upon revisiting, we were both quite disappointed; and I was quite ashamed, having talked the place up so much, and being the self-proclaimed food-saveur.

I may know how to cook, but Keenan sure knows a thing or two about pizza. Maybe it’s because he’s a guy, or because he’s from New York. Whatever it is that bestows Keenan his pizza-prowess, I have learned never to underestimate the beauty of real New York pizza.