Yesterday my friend Carrie-Anne came by and we headed back up to the UWS to meet up with Rudi "Peeboner" Munroe and Scott Wilkes Youth and eat some damn slices. After an uneventful subway ride where we discussed doing drugs as teenagers and the necessity to keep duck lard in any proper kitchen, we got out of the train into a slight drizzle (there were no Florida residents to blame for it this time), and CA presented me with a rather perplexing gift.
Unlike many of my crustier brethren, I have not traveled to the far reaches of Latin America and as such am unfamiliar with candies from the Andes. (Note: I have no definitive evidence that this chicken flavored lollipop is from the aforesaid mountains, but COULD NOT resist making the corny dad-rhyme, possibly because I was hanging out with my own father earlier, who, for the record, is an excellent guy.) I'm sure there's something inherently fucked up and colonial about being entertained by other culture's weird foods, but sometimes I feel compelled to throw caution to the wind and flaunt convention. Although being culturally insensitive/mildly xenophobuc is probably more like perpetuating convention since our Sick Fucking Society wants to make everyone a CLONE, MAN! Can you hear me Mr. Abercrombie Starbucks McMurder?! You're a sheep! You and everyone like you are all sheep and you wanna know who the shepherd is, man? It's greed, bro. Ever heard of it? Get back to me when you learn how to run that Hummer with tears, because this bicycle is powered by a smug sense of self-satisfaction.
Where was I? Oh yeah, chicken-flavored lollipop. Totally weird. It looks just like a miniature of the awesome rotisserie chickens they sell at the place down the block from me that are so tender when you eat one you feel like Top Cat when he sticks the whole fish in his mouth and pulls out just the skeleton. The weirdest thing, though, was that the chicken flavored lollipop had no chicken in the ingredients. In fact the only ingredients were Chili Powder, Lemon Extract, High Fructose Corn Syrup. So now we have a Chili Powder flavored lollipop, shaped like a chicken, that tasted like chemicals. Make me one with cane sugar and I'll eat them all day.
Anyway, as me and Carrie-Anne sucked our respective cocks, we strolled along 86th street until we discovered World Famous Pizza & Restaurant.
As soon as we walked in, I was overwhelmed by the wonderful aroma of awesome pizza. So I excitedly paid my $2.50 and headed for a table.
Looks pretty solid, no? Well it's not, and I mean that both literally and figuratively. Good things first: this slice had an excellent crunch, and the sauce tasted great. But the dough needed salt, and even when sauce is good, no one ever needs this much of it. And the whole slice was loaded with cheap, gnarly cheese that got all clumped up. That thing happened where the dough wasn't cooked all the way, too. So like, it was nice and crunchy on the bottom, but the top part was still translucent and raw. I have no problem with that in and of itself, but what it led to the bites of pizza turning into this weird gooey paste in my mouth. It was totally gross and I did not like the sensation. The goo situation was exacerbated by the overabundance of cheese and sauce, and frankly, I would hypothesize that the over-saucing is what led to the dough problem in the first place.
Overall, I wanted to like this slice for some reason, even though it kind of sucked. Or, I should say, I liked something about it, even though it sucked. I think it may have just been the fact that it was something warm and soft to eat on a cold, rainy day. Carrie-Anne said, "I like this the way I like Spaghetti-O's." Which I think was a very astute and succinct way of saying what I was about to say: this slice was kind of gross, but I found it comforting.