For 17 years, from my 30 to my 47, this Moo was my best girl. She did all the cat things. She sat on my keyboard, my stack of work papers, my books. She was my first morning moment, nattering hello and feed me now. She loved to climb under blankets and act as if she’d arrived in a new land. She brought me mice, gifts I never fully appreciated. My favorite thing of all was when she leaned herself in, resting her forehead on me. For 17 years, she was a thrumming peace beside me. I will miss her.
Coal is very bad for the environment. But very good for pizza.
You can cornmeal your crust, you can bake it hot-hot brick oven, but nothing will give it that smoky char like a coal-fired oven.
Grimaldi's uses coal. So does Pepe's.
Frank Pepe's is the OG, the GOAT, the mothership. All the people everywhere said, "Gotta go to Pepe's."
W and I walked through Little Italy, under the arch, and into Pepe's. So good. Tomatoes tasted fresh, cheese was just the right amount, and crust was divine.
We still like Grimaldi's best, but Pepe's is a very close second.
1. Grimaldi's, DUMBO, Astoria, Queens
2. Frank Pepe's, New Haven
3. BAR, New Haven
4. Modern Apizza, New Haven
5. Napoli, Astoria, Queens (Higher if it had been Hotter)
6. Stone Bridge, Midtown, Manhattan
7. L&B Spumoni Gardens, Bensonhurst, Brooklyn (Best Sicilian We've Ever Had)
8. Famous Amadeus, Times Square(ish), Manhattan (Nostalgia Pick)
9. Don Antonio's, Times Square, Manhattan
New Haven Pizza 101: It's apizza. Say it "uh pizz." Say the cheese "mootz-uh-rell-ah" or "mootz," but only if you're from here. If you're not, say "cheese." If you don't say "cheese," they'll leave it off.
Modern Apizza opened in the 1930s. BAR popped up in the 90s. BAR feels like a brewpub. (It is.) Modern feels like a pizza place. Pizzas were comparably delicious Neopolitan-style pies. We gave BAR a slightly higher score, but they were nearly identical. BAR had slightly less grease, less slice-flop.