Etymology of Slice Harvester: "For those who were wondering."

I wanted to provide some insight into where the name of this blog came from. My friend Greg Harvester, who is a totally rad and awesome guy and once told me I can borrow anything of his ever while he was drunk and I immediately asked if he'd give me his pants right then and he wouldn't do it so obviously he's actually not that cool and he's a total liar, was in a band called Rice Harvester a million years ago and currently does a zine of the same name. I'm not sure how to get the zine besides directly from Greg, and I'm not gonna post his contact on the blog, but there is a link to download the Rice Harvester 7" on the Region Rock and More blog. Greg's bands and zines have always been among the coolest around and I'm super glad that I know him because he's a total peach and I'm really lucky that we're friends.


Greg's partner Anandi was recently diagnosed with breast cancer, and it's really tough for the two of them. My mother just beat breast cancer last year, so I know pretty intimately how strenuous and taxing that kind of struggle can be. Like my mother, Anandi is lucky enough to have a rad community of tough, rad folks to support her, but if any internet strangers want to donate a couple bucks to help her and Greg foot the bill for all these treatments, you can paypal money to anandiwonder@yahoo.com or check the facebook group Help Anandi Fight Breast Cancer.

Sorry if this bummed anyone out, but first of all, life is not all pepperonis and sausage. Sometimes the Great Pizzaiola throws some anchovies at us, you know? And second of all, people get sick, bad shit happens all the time, but this is about communities coming together and people having each other's backs in tangible ways. So if anything, while these are certainly stressful times, this should ultimately be totally triumphant. If nothing else, just think good thoughts and dedicate your next slice to Anandi's health.

Pizza Double Feature: Milano Pizza Shop and La Nuestra Pizzeria

Milano Pizza Shop - $2.25
2255 2nd Ave
New York, NY 10029


What a great looking exterior. The multi-colored bikes out front and the busted ass old sign and general vibrant colors around this place make me think of Havana. The pizza is totally "meh," though.


The cheese was good, but not exceptional, the crust was cook, although a bit undercooked. And the sauce was weirdly sweet. It was in a way that you totally don't notice at first but then it has this shitty aftertaste. Major "whatever" for this place.

La Nuestra Pizzeria - $2.25
2146 2nd Ave
New York 10029


Once again, another pizza place that was just slightly off the mark. It's a shame, because we could've had such a bang up day of exceptional shit and instead we had to wade through a ton of mediocrity that was almost good. Bummer times.


This slice tasted PERFECT. All the flavors were just right. The sauce was understated and delicious, the dough tasted great, the cheese was exactly what I wanted. But the texture was CRAP. It's not even an issue of me preferring my pizza on the well-done side. This slice was undercooked by any standards. I feel like if I could've somehow combined the flavors of the slice here with the texture of the slice at Mt. Carmel it would be the slice to end all slices. The slice of pizza that would get it's maker smote by God for daring to be so brash as to create something that would rival His beauty. Seriously, the flavors were impeccable. I'm gonna come back here and make a point of asking for my slice well done and see if that changes things. Because this slice was so close.

Mt. Carmel Pizzeria: "I'm not mad, I'm just disappointed."

Post-Patsy's, Megan, Cinque and I headed over for our next slice at Mt. Carmel, which was a pretty picture perfect pizzeria.

Sadly, the pizza was not nearly as perfect, though it looked good, and certain aspects of it were totally superb.


If this pizza had a better sauce it would be the King of all Pizzas. Instead it is like, the Duke of Corn Syrupy Sauce or the Earl of Biggest Bummers. Honestly, the slice looked so perfect, smelled phenomenal and seemed to be cooked totally right, but when I bit into it and the sweet sauce squirted out, and chemically sweet at that, I felt like a pretty heinous atrocity had been committed on my expectations. The dough on this slice was impeccable, the crust, unstoppable. But that fucking sauce, man, it ruined things for me. Cinque put it very succinctly when he said, "I'm most pleased with the texture, rather than the flavor of the whole thing." If you could somehow sneak Patsy's sauce onto the pies here you'd have the best street slice in the world. Instead you just have a major disappointment.

My relationship to this slice gives me a bit of insight into how a lot of my high school teachers must have felt, like, "you have such potential, if only you weren't drenched in corn syrup!" Except in my case, replace "drenched in corn syrup" with "stoned all the time." Who knows, maybe the slice I had at Mt. Carmel was having a hard time dealing with being smart and weird and needed a coping mechanism, and maybe corn syrup not only makes it tangibly less smart, but gives it an excuse to act like a maniac. Maybe the slice at Mt. Carmel just thinks that the only way it can possibly handle being stuck in a pizzeria all day, with a bunch of boring other slices who don't even like Operation Ivy, instead of doing something interesting, is by slathering itself in the crappiest sauce. Maybe if the pizzerias in this country were a little more engaging and interesting and a little less based on weird teleological constructs like standardized testing, slices like the one I ate wouldn't have to numb themselves with chemicals, and they could go on to be productive pies when they grow up. The question you've got to ask yourself is really this, dude: was that slice sick, or was it the product of a sick society? Think about that shit, man.

Mt. Carmel Pizzeria
345 E 115th St
New York, NY 10029

Providence Pizza Meltdown: "Looks like pizza, tastes like shit. You're never gonna know until you bite into it."

I'll return to our regularly scheduled program tomorrow, but tonight I'd like to share some information about the horrible pizza in Providence, Rhode Island. Right now I'm sitting in an internet cafe in Boston drinking this horrid tea that tastes like bubble gum while the homies are at the club they're playing tonight a little ways down the street. I don't think I fully realized what an important band I was "touring" with, but these people were all famous already! If you haven't heard them yet, Forgivers feature Berk from Glassjaw, Keith from Rise Against!, and Charlotte from 7 Year Bitch. Total super group! I'm so privileged to be able to travel around with such rad celebrities.

Anyway, yesterday we ended up heading to the neighborhood over by all the colleges in Providence. Keith wanted to hit the gym, Charlotte needed to get some more watercolors, and Berk had to get a pedicure (he has sensitive feet!), so I was left stranded downtown. That's when I realized that there were three pizzerias just on the block I was on! I started thinking about the horrid slice Mikey Sauce had gotten me at 2am Friday night, and realized that I had to do further research into the indigenous pizza of downtown Providence. So I went to the first place, Nice Slice, employer of the Providence Punks and much heralded Best Pizzeria in Town and ordered up a slab.


I don't know if you can tell from my crappy picture, but there is totally some bullshit whole wheat thing going on with the crust. Boo. To top it off, the whole slice was too thin and it was just generally subpar. Pretend it's not pizza and maybe it's a decent snack.

Right across the street was Antonio's, which looked promising until I realized it shared it's location with a burrito joint, much like a half assed Combination Pizza Hut & Taco Bell. But I went in anyway, because I am a glutton for punishment, and the slice looked ten times more like actual pizza and not some art school, gourmet crap.


Sadly, this slice tasted like someone had spread sauce and melted cheese onto a pizza box. The dough was basically the consistency of cardboard. The sauce and the cheese were fine, but the dough and crust were awful, which led me to ask Charlotte whether Providence is at a higher elevation than New York. Because last week, Megan, my friend and pizza comrade, who is such a dedicated pizza-maker that she reads PMQ Magazine, told me that elevation affects the consistency of pizza dough! No shit, right? You never thought about it, but it makes total sense.

Anyway, after Antonio's, I headed to the last place on that block, Xtreme Pizza & Wings. What a shit show. I walked in, and there was some dick boss behind the counter yelling at the girl at the register like a shitty dad. He eventually stopped barking asinine orders at the poor girl and gave her enough time to take my order. It was then I noticed the pies waiting to be sold.


The counter of this place looked like a fucking burn unit. Every slice I saw was a Freddy Krueger. Then this frat dude walked in and was all, "I'm here for the pickup."
And the lady behind the counter looked over at the two to-go pies that were boxed up next to one and other and was like, (and I am not even joking or embellishing here), "Xtreme BBQ or Chicken Terriyaki Xtreme?"

Fuck. But I had already ordered my slice, it was too late to leave. And then I was handed the worst slice of pizza I've ever seen in my life:


The ultimate Freddy Krueger. The cheese on this slice looked like a giant nasty scab. It was grosser than my face was when I got doored on my bike coming home from Cassie's halloween party a few years ago and had nasty road rash on my face and looked like a zombie. It was grosser than when I saw a tape worm at the beach. It was grosser than the grossest thing you can imagine.

(As a side note, feel free to post the grossest thing you can imagine in the comments section of this entry. Winner gets to know that I am thinking about what they wrote while I masturbate.)

The crazy thing about this slice was that even though it was totally burnt to shit, it had the grossest most soggy texture ever. Like that pizza I ate with Meredith and Josh Ferguson (I think), that turned into like, a weird soup in your mouth. So gross. By far the worst pizza ever in the world.

Anyway, I still think the pizza I that Mike Sauce took me out for two years ago at Tommy's was totally decent, so if you're ever in Providence, go there. Although really if you're ever in Providence you should just eat a Vietnamese sandwich or a fucking Hot Weiner with Meat Sauce from N.Y. System, duh.

Patsy's: "It doesn't count but I couldn't resist."

Patsy's. I know I keep talking about how I'm only gonna eat at places where I can get a plain slice, and skip joints that only serve pies, but come on! If you were around the corner from Patsy's with two friends from out of town who both love pizza, you'd take them too. Besides, this is my project and I get to do whatever I want so fuck you.


Cinque muttered, "this place is kind of fancy..." with a hint of skepticism in his voice as we were handed our menus. Moments later, Megan said, "yeah, but $12 for a pie is not bad at all, especially if it's as good as it's supposed to be." And it was.


Patsy's hella thin crust is really not comparable to any of the other slices I've been eating. This slice and a street slice are different but related, like a Terradactyl and an Emu. The thing that makes this slice notable and relevant to my pizza mission is that it basically sets the sauce standard. Patsy's sauce is PERFECT, hands down. Slightly sweet, and not in a sugary way, with a hint of the fresh tomato flavor. This sauce is the standard by which all future sauce to be judged.

And the cheese is such good quality, and the slightly charred tasted the coal oven imbues the slice with, "like a burny marshmallow before you get to the sweet part," is absolutely perfect. This place is worth taking a date to because it seems fancy but is cheap. And then you can go to the ramble together and cruise some third and fourth partners.

I don't need to tell you this place is amazing because you've read it before in a million places. Totally worth the trip.

Patsy's Pizza
2287 1st Ave
New York, NY 10035

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In more News You Already Knew, most pizza in Providence totally blows. After the show at AS220 last night, we all came back to Mike Stoltz's house to hang tough and drink tea, and Mikey decided to order us a pizza. I've had decent pizza in Providence before, but truth be told, I had been traveling for a few months and hadn't had pizza in a while, so I'm starting to question my memory of that pie.

Anyway, check out this travesty:


BOOOO! for Providence pizza, but HURRAY! for Providence.

Pizza Plus Inc: "At least they got hot jams."

After our pretty wonderful experience at JNS, we headed over to 3rd ave and down to Pizza Plus.


(I'd like to take a minute to point out the word "HEROS" on the bottom left corner of the awning for the edification of any of the shmucks who took time out of their exceedingly important lives to "correct" my correction of the awning of Pizza Palace.)

ANYWAY, Pizza Plus. They were playing that Akon/Snoop song, I Wanna Love You when we got there and I found myself subconsciously singing along in my crappy falsetto, much to the chagrin of the twelve year old in front of me in line, who gave me a look that would've made Dick Cheney feel shame, possibly for the first time in his life. After that harrowing experience, it took everything in me to pull myself together and pay up my $2.25 for the slice.


And the slice. We had a major Preemie on our hands. That slice needed to be put in an incubator, know what I mean? Unpleasant colors abounded. Where there should've been golden borwn tones there were just awkward shades of beige. The sauce tasted heavily of garlic powder and tasted like it was sweetened with corn syrup. Somehow, despite looking so horribly underdone, the bread beneath the slice was cooked perfectly, providing an excellent crunch. And the ratios were perfect. Those perfect ratios were spoiled, though, by the terribly overpowering sauce. The crust tasted good, but the texture left something lacking.

All in all, this slice can be perfectly summed up by that hand gesture where you fan out your fingers horizontal and rotate it back and forth a little at the same time as raising your shoulders and eyebrows, in order to perfectly communicate the emotion "so-so."

Pizza Plus Inc

2253 3rd Ave

New York, NY 10035

JNS Pizza: "And now that our lips have met, I'm in love again."

This week I had the excellent pleasure of going pizza eating with two of my favorite out of town friends, Cinque and Megan. Cinque currently resides in Kansas City, where he tends to the My War Gardens and plays sleazy bass. Megan is a Chattanooga resident, mother to my favorite dog in America, and an ultimate shred wizard on the damn guitar. The three of us share a love for hot jams and boundless sexual remarks as well as a general fondness for one another than is only paralleled by all my other goddamn friends that I love, shit I am so lucky! Anyway, these two dirtbags came through town on their way to the cranberry harvest up there in Massachusetts, and when the beginning of the harvest was pushed back, they managed to stick around long enough to come and hang with me for an entire day.

Our first stop was JNS Pizza, just outside the 125th St. 4 train station.


Good looking place. Totally awesome inside. There was a sign stating that they will refuse service to people who talk on their cellphones while ordering (I heartily support this!), and another sign reminding me that all activities done in JNS Pizza are under surveillance. Usually a sign letting me know that I'm being filmed would bum me out, but for some reason, this one made me happy. The tone was such that it seemed to say, "I appreciate, understand, and respect that you are part of our country's thriving black market economy. However, you should note that if you choose to perform 'business' here, it will be recorded, so it would be in your best interest to do somewhere else. By all means stay and enjoy our pizza, though!" I don't know, I'm a crazy person.

Either way, I ordered up, shelled out my $2.25, and headed over to Cinque and Megan with our first slice of the day.


And what a slice it was! When I folded it in half the crust crunched down like a collapsing building beneath my index finger, because the outside was so perfectly crisp and crunchy while the inside remained magnificently fluffy and light. The slice was cooked perfectly, it folded nicely, and felt good in my hands, substantial but not too heavy. It was on the cheesier side of Not Too Much Cheese, and it was sauced as lightly as possible without have Too Little Sauce. The fact that the cheese totally ruled made it awesome that there was so much of it and precipitated Cinque and the slice having this adorable Lady and the Tramp moment.


This slice was cooked so expertly. My only complaint is in regards to the crust and is so miniscule it almost doesn't bear mentioning. Texturally, this crust was perfect. Delicate, slightly chewy innards with golden, crisp, crunchy outtards. But I wish the dough either had a DROP more salt in it, or that the slice had been greasier and dripped a little more grease onto the crust.

While eating we were eating, Megan, who has worked at pizzerias in other states for years and actually reads PMQ magazine told me the first of many interesting facts about pizza that she know. Apparently, and this totally makes sense, elevation places a roll in the making of pizza dough, which explains why there is no good pizza in Colorado.

JNS Pizza
2032 Lexington Ave
New York, NY 1003

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To my loyal fans: I'm leaving town tomorrow morning with buddy band forgetters for a couple days so I might not be able to update daily until after Monday, although I am going to bring my damn lap-top computer and try to post from "the road."