Wednesday, December 2, 2009
5 Star Cheesesteak & Pizza: "Like eating a sponge."
5 Star Cheesesteak and Pizza, how do I begin to describe thee? First of all, it is weirdly silent and sterile and awkward in there. It is like a black hole for any kind of ambiance. Seriously weird vibes. And the pizza, oh the pizza.
This slice was way too thick and I don't think it was made of food. As you can see from the above image, it began to fall apart as soon as I lifted it up. For something so dense and thick, that it a horrible sign. Texturally, this slice was a nightmare. The cheese was like plastic, the dough was like a sponge and it was SO DRY. It seemed like before they put the cheese on this slice, they had second thoughts about the sauce and wiped it all off with a paper towel. They couldn't get every bit, so there was some residual sauce in the crevices, but they succeeded in getting rid of most of it, leaving my mouth a dry, dusty wasteland after taking my first bite. This slice is almost so bad that I feel compelled to recommend it on the grounds that it is such an anomaly. True pizza connoisseurs should taste this pizza in order to understand the full range of just how bad pizza can get. Ultimately though, it's not even worth that. Maybe their cheesesteaks are at least decent, though the cheese on this pizza doesn't make me feel hopeful about that.
5 Star Cheesesteak and Pizza
2039 1st Ave
New York, NY 10029
Two endnotes to today's entry:
1. It is about time for me to remind you all that there is a Donation button, located at the top right of this page. If you enjoy reading Slice Harvester please consider donating as little as $2.50 a month to help me fund my pizza. I don't expect to make money off this thing, but if it could fund itself that would be MINDBLOWING.
2. I recently got a copy of 3 The Hard Way because I was trying to track down this totally excellent Reggie Stepper song If You Want To Leave. The first song on there is a Cutty Ranks track called Culture Fi Lick, which is a rumination on the moral and ethical bankruptcy of the young people of the 90s. In it, Cutty Ranks discusses some of the skewed priorities of his generation's young people. He says:
"Give me punani," some of them will say.
"And give me pizza," some of them will say.
Having read about the difficulties queer folks have faced in Jamaica, I've been readying myself for years for what I thought would be the inevitable moment when I would have an ethical qualm strong enough to stop listening to a certain reggae artist. Having grown up on grimetime New York gangsta rap, I have a really complicated relationship with misogyny and homophobia in popular music and we could discuss the definitely complex and likely hypocritical nature of my fondness for Mobb Deep or Nine all day long. And at some point we should, because the patriarchy's not gonna smash itself and everyone should examine the innoccuous shit they do that helps bolster and support oppressive structures. However, and here's the real pressing issue, I never thought the repugnant lyrics I would find in a dancehall song would have to do with equating Pizza Eating with The Sorry State of Our Youth. I don't know if I'll be able to listen to Cutty Ranks the same ever again.
Coincidentally, while I was writing this post, my roommate was in the living room listening to my Pump Up the Jam LP. Check this shit out:
Maybe I'm wrong, but this is how I'm hearing these lyrics:
People don't you know, don't you know it's about time.
Can't you hear the jam is pumping while you taste the pizza mind.
Many different flavors and the spice is strong.
Get into the hot stuff something something blah blah blah.
Chuck was asking me tonight about my favorite modern poetry. Well there's your answer pal.