You’d expect Little Italy to have at least one absolutely uncontrollable-awesome pizza place at it’s heart, but that isn’t happening. Instead, you have one awesome slice, and with slices, you’re subject to The Slice Law.
What is the slice law, you ask? Defined simply, the slice law states that quality degrades in relation to how long a slice has been under a heat lamp and can be revived only by the hands of an expert. It’s a bit more tricky than that, but here’s the gist of it. Hopefully, the equation will be worked out soon, but it can be worked out!
So what about the Pomodoro slice made me think of this equation? I went there twice before I wrote the review. I forget who told me this, but one of my friends took a food writing course recently, and she (I know it was a she – I have way more she friends right now due to food blogging) said that if you’re going to write a negative review of a place, you are going to have to go there at least twice to pan it. I usually don’t have this luxury, so I don’t follow this rule. Three slices – one was good, two not so good
My first time at Pomodoro, I had the Vodka Slice and a Pepperoni and Mushroom Slice:
Like I said before, the Vodka Slice is the best pizza in Little Italy. It’s so much better than Lombardi’s. Now, I haven’t had the clam pie at Lombardi’s, and people are really urging me to check this out, so I might have to go back and try it sometime when there’s no line. The Vodka Slice is gorgeous. Vodka sauce, Buffalo Mozzarella … awesome. Why more places don’t use vodka sauce on their pizza is beyond me – it’s damn tasty.
The problem with Pomodoro is that after biting into the Vodka Slice, biting into another slice will make you feel like this guy (just watch it for 25 seconds):
And of course, I mean to indicate that the pizza quality drops off like a motherfucker. Don’t get another thing in here.
The regular slices: they aren’t BAD, they’re just not excellent. I would even say that the pepperoni and mushroom slice I had was above average, but I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again, average pizza in NYC is bad pizza. This girl was visiting from Toronto, and I asked her if they had as many pizza places per capita as we do her in the city.
“No,” She said, “Pretty much only chains.”
New Yorkers! Feel blessed. You can have great pizza pretty much wherever you go. Most slices in NYC are far better than any pizza from a chain. Have you ever had pizza in Baltimore? It’s pretty much all junk. Kansas City? Now, I’ve never been, but how many places serve pizza anywhere close to what we New Yorkers would call average?
Of course, the upskirt:
Yeah, I ate half the pizza before taking the upskirt shot; lay off me, I was starving.
“But Hagan,” you ask, “I thought you had three slices?”
Ahh, astute reader, you’re correct. I did have three slices. I was on a date with a girl and was trying to explain why, as we walked by Lombardi’s, that it wasn’t the best pizza in Little Italy, so we walked over to Pomodoro for a slice. The pizza guy threw the pizza into the oven for a minute and then took it out. The second he came up to me with the pizza, I knew it was underdone. There’s no way any pizza could have reached an acceptable level of crispness with that amount of time in the oven.
She bit into it and said it was good; a lie. I bit into it and knew it wasn’t up to par. Nowhere close to the caliber of pizza one might expect if they were being told they were going to get the best slice in NYC’s Little Italy. I was disappointed but didn’t ask for another slice, fearing my usual pickiness could wait for date #2. I feel like these guys owe me a slice – they definitely owe her one.
Regardless, properly heated, it’s still the best slice in Little Italy. Could be the best slice below Houston, but I haven’t had enough pizza in this vicinity to make this call. If you get a cold one, send it back. Don’t order anything else unless you’re pumped for some mediocrity.
51 Spring Street
New York, NY 10012