I forgot to mention during last night's entry that on this particular day, I was treated to the distinct pleasure of pizza-eating with my firm, fast friends Chrissy Hewes and Willow. They were on their way back to Asheville from doing a cranberry harvest in New England, so their presence in my fair city came as a complete surprise. But on to M.J. Pizza.
M.J. Pizza was surrounded by some pretty tough characters, but I asked them if they could just "scooch" to clear the shot for me, and they willingly obliged. The men milling around outside shit-talking made me confident that this place might be great. Not the presence of men specifically, but the fact that there were a handful of sketchy folks loitering made me feel really at home.
The slice, however, was not great. It had decent ratios and was cooked okay, there was a nice crunch and shit. The ingredients, however, while not terrible, were certainly nothing to write a postcard to your mom about. Not horrible, not great, whatever. But I gotta keep this entry short. Berk and Keith are waiting on me to hit the strip club.
1976 1 Avenue
New York, NY 10029