Alas, dear readers, I've been stricken with a horrible case of consumption. I've been coughing into a handkerchief for two days now and I fear I may have accidentally expectorated some mucus onto my dicky. But I must sally forth, onwards eternally, towards Lord-Knows-Not-Where. For I have been stricken by a duty, no! a curse, from She Who Bakes The Pies, the Great Pizzaola herself, and I mustn't falter. But lo, what new obstacle lurks upon the horizon? What rough beast, it's hour come round at last, awaits this humble man.
Primavera Pizza. Possibly one of the most unexciting places I've ever been. Maybe it's just the mucus clogging up my brain, but I can't even remember what it looked like inside there. It was totally unexceptional. Nothing really sticks out for me at all as something that was gross, or cool, or ugly, or transcendently beautiful (well, besides me and Cory's friendship). This place is just straight up BOH-RING.
The pizza, though, the pizza is exceptionally bad. It has that crosshatched bottom from being cooked on one of those weird trays as opposed to right in the oven. There are a couple of places with decent pizza whose slices bear The Mark of Tray, but mostly this is a sign that the pie you are eating is total garbage. Cory told a long and somewhat charming story about going to flea markets with his dad, and something something, and bagels, and blah blah blah, and I was gonna recreate it for you guys here in this post, but then he got me sick and now I have a head full of snot, so I'm actually just gonna say that Cory from Stupid Party told a TON of really anti-semetic jokes while we ate this pizza and it made me really uncomfortable and then when I expressed my discomfort he called me a homophobic insult and spit at me even though none of that stuff is true. To add insult to injury their coffee tasted like a cup of hot water with a coffee candy dissolved in it. Happy Pesach. Fuck you.
Primavera Pizza & Pasta - $2.75
1005 2nd Avenue
New York, NY 10022