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 Giovanni's Pizza Restaurant 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 Daily News, 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