If frogs had wings they wouldn't bump their asses when they hopped

I kind of like food, just a little bit. For me it was always about getting nutrition and making sure that I could get through the day. Ok … maybe not. But I was very sad to just learn that one of my favorite fooderies closed. New Yorkers will throw down over pizza. This neo-politan foodstuff inspires arguments equivalent to that of Broncos vs. Raiders fans. For me it always boiled down to what was the “best worst pizza.” Because trying to declare the best pizza for me was like trying to say what the best Scotch or wine is, it’s going to depend on what I am in the mood for. Do I want a crisp crust that you can only get from a wood-burning oven, or do I want a chewy yeasty creation from a thicker crust, and a liberal dosing of the red sauce to bump up the texture. Maybe a little Greek fare with spicing heavy on the Oregano and meat sliced fresh off the Gyro-Log.

Hands down, the best worst pizza in my neighborhood was John’s. It was salty, the Mozzarella was moist and melted beautifully, not like the plasticine stuff Domino’s uses, and the sauce was probably thinned down commercial tomato paste. But their hot ovens would get a wonderfully crisp crust that would crunch and explode with a great yeastiness. It was, the best worst pizza personified. On the way down for some dollar beers a slice of john’s was necessary, or coming back from class where I simply needed calories in my stomach, it was somewhat of a ritual necessity.

Their gyros as well I fancied for their saltiness with a spice subdued by their yogurt sauce. Their tomatoes tended to be a bit dry but they made up for it with an abundance of shredded lettuce and crisp chunks of white onion. This was my lady-repellent.

Alas, as I have mentioned, John’s Pizza and Gyro is no more. Kaput. Off the map. Let’s have a moment of silence for it’s passing.