Now I know, what you're thinking, "I thought this was Slice Harvester, not Cone Harvester. Where does he get off?" Because that's pretty much what Paulie said to me when I told him and the gang we were going to head into K! Pizzacone. In fact, everybody thought it was a bad idea except Peter, who understood my morbid curiosity about such a fascinating culinary anomaly; and who I realized right then that I knew from the week that I spent sleeping on a hammock in the woods next to Megan's house two or three years ago, because he was living in a tent in those same woods and we had drank some beers together. And not a bullshit tent, mind you, like a really sturdy canvas tent that was pitched atop a wooden platform and looked like something from a WWII movie and was probably the size of my apartment in Brooklyn. Anyway, since I am really the only person involved with S.H. who has any actual decision-making power, (besides Nate Stark, I guess), consensus was a non-issue and we ventured in.
We ordered a 'Small, Margherita Pizzacone' (to split 5 ways) and immediately began to feel nervous. The proprietress of the establishment opened up a crazy looking deep freeze unit that emitted that wild "cold steam" or whatever like they had coming off the dry ice beakers in the horror movie tv show that was on channel 9 when I was a kid. She removed a premade, frozen "bread cone" from within the depths of this sci-fi meatlocker and placed in on some kind of stand in a convection/microwave "quick cooker." There was already way too much technology involved in this food and it had barely even been prepared.
We ordered a 'Small, Margherita Pizzacone' (to split 5 ways) and immediately began to feel nervous. The proprietress of the establishment opened up a crazy looking deep freeze unit that emitted that wild "cold steam" or whatever like they had coming off the dry ice beakers in the horror movie tv show that was on channel 9 when I was a kid. She removed a premade, frozen "bread cone" from within the depths of this sci-fi meatlocker and placed in on some kind of stand in a convection/microwave "quick cooker." There was already way too much technology involved in this food and it had barely even been prepared.
When the thing was done, she filled it with cheese and sauce that she scooped out of little trays like they have in Subway, and then sprayed a bottle of what turned out to be some kind of "butter spread"-type substance into the recesses of the cone. Then she placed it in the oven one more time.
While it was cooking, we watched in horror as an informational video about pizzacones played on two televisions, just a few seconds apart. It made everything look so disgusting.
When they handed me my pizzacone, I was a little disappointed it wasn't less grand, but then again, I did just order the margherita. I took my first bite and chewed contemplatively, eying the expressions on my comrade's faces as they were presented with the pizzacone and weighed whether or not they would take a bite. It tasted like "butter," which is to say, it tasted like fake butter, there was absolutely no sauce in my bite, and the cheese was incredibly weird and synthetic. In short, I loved it. As everyone passed the pizza pon the left hand side (bom biddilee bom biddilee bom bom bom biddilee bom biddilee), the comments started to roll in:
"Too much cheese."
"I wish there was more sauce."
"This tastes like butter."
"This is amazing."
"Tastes like I'm eating a bowl of pizza hut."
As the cone made it's second trip around the cipher, everyone seemed to grow tired. The whole thing was almost done, and I was the only one that was still excited about this weird thing, although my enthusiasm quickly waned when I began chewing my third bite. This thing was probably the most disgusting food object I have ever eaten. When I was unable to pawn the cone off on anyone else, I simply threw the remnants into the garbage. As we were leaving, Peter said, very succinctly, "Well, I definitely feel grosser than before I ate that."
Rating:
While the rating system is usually on a scale of 8, that didn't seem like enough for this horror show, so K! Pizzacone gets 0 out of 20 slices.
K! Pizzacone - $3.60
325 5th Avenue (32nd & 33rd)
New York, NY 10016
Why did you actually eat that? I could tell from the picture to immediately throw it away.
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