Eric and I met up and got on the train for what seemed like an eternity getting up to Washington Heights. We talked about the most ridiculous assortment of shit. People abandoning their houses, being an exterminator, leaving your dead friends phone numbers in your phone because you can't bring yourself to delete them, etc. Hangover talk. We got out of the train at 168th Street and were standing in front of Famiglia Pizza. I was like, "I think this is a chain..." but Eric was all, "Fuck it I'm hungry," and walked in.
This place looks like it's in a mall. Because it is a chain. Look at the website. They are in Anchorage, Alaska. They are at airports. But I guess maybe I can visit one location from each chain as a compromise. I won't go to another Famiglia ever again in my life, but this one, whatever. The slice:
Duh, it sucked. I don't even need to tell you that. Probably the best of any chain, though. I'll take this over Dominoes, Pizza Hut or Papa John's any day. This pizza may be as mediocre and soulless as the current, semi-ironic Yacht Rock revival among communities of young urban honkies, but at least it's real pizza.