"Well," our friend began, a discreet look of mischief crossing his features, "it's actually kind of embarrassing."
We looked quizzically, perhaps intrigued.
"Fuck it, I'll tell you. I was getting a colonic. It was amazing. I feel so GOOD right now. Colin, you really gotta try this with all that pizza you eat."
So, I haven't set it up yet, but I'm gonna figure out how much a colonic costs and then set up a meter on the side of the page to see how long it takes for Slice Harvester readers to donate me enough money to get my bowels cleansed. And while we're on the topic of donations, I should mention that things were slow for a minute, but a sweet dude from Jamaica, Queens named Vincent Cavazos just picked up all your slack and sent Fifty Big Ones my way! Looks like I will be paying my electricity bill this month, after all. You can check out Vincent's name in print, along with all the other donors, on my brand new "Benefactors" page! And everyone else, follow his lead. When people google you, do you want them to find your defunct Friendster profile, or see your name in a list of True American Heroes?
Blah blah. Anyway, we were in such a sour mood when we left Broadway Pizza that we stopped in a Goodwill for like, an hour and looked at shit. I ended up getting this cool afro-beat record and a Cypress Hill tape, and Johnny got a whole stack of LPs, including this fantastic Frank Sinatra disc I had never heard before, and the Saturday Night Fever soundtrack. Which he is displaying in the below photography of Ciao Bella Napoli.
Of no relation to the mediocre, Olive-Gardeny Ciao Bella Napoli at York and 78th, this place is actually cousins with Bella Napoli at Madison and 30th (which I have already eaten at, but have not yet reviewed, so you'll have to wait and see how it compares). This restaurant, though, is a pretty incredible place. When we first walked in, it smelled pungently and strongly of a scent Caroline described as "man cologne". She immediately went to the bathroom and me and Johnny were swooped upon by a kindly, hirsute gentleman who seemed to be the proprietor of the store. He saw Johnny's Saturday Night Fever soundtrack and immediately grew nostalgic for his teens and early 20s in South Brooklyn, when "things was actually like that."
We got our slice from Tony Manero, and set upon it like a pack of ravenous wolves, although soon we were transformed into a pack of nonplussed, unexcited wolves. This slice was just a bit above average. It wasn't bad, and unlike some of the other pizza C, J and me ate that day, it actually qualified as pizza. But it wasn't all that, you know? I'm just gonna quote the exact phrases I wrote in my notes, with selective italicizing.
"Sauce is okay."
"Cheese is so-so."
"Crust is alright."
These are not the words of an excited person. Nor are they necessarily the words of a sad person, either. Just someone resigned to the ultimate banality of living, who has given up on the notion that fun or adventure can be injected into her mundane life. In short, someone who really needs to read Evasion! Nyuck nyuck nyuck.
It bares noting that Caroline absolutely HATED this slice.
Ciao Bella Napoli - $2.35
257 7th Ave (24th & 25th)
New York, NY 10001