NYC 1

As I have already posted, I like pizza. Access to real pizza is an essential ingredient to a good life.

I spent this weekend in NYC with a good friend I hadn't seen in too long. We didn't do a whole lot - mostly just hanging out. We did go to MOMA, which was awesome.

He lives in the West Village and the only real goal of the weekend was to eat pizza. I don't know how many slices I had, but I know we went for pie 6 times to 5 different places. I had (in order of appearance) Joe's, Ben's, John's, Joe's, and some other place I can't remember the name of. They were all leagues ahead of what you can get anywhere else in the world, but Joe's was my favorite - thinner crispier crust, not as sweet with more fresh tomato flavor comming through in the sauce. John's was equally as good, but a little chewier and sweeter, which is not my style. The place I can't remember had potential, but the slice wasn't in the oven long enough.

Between Friday night and this morning, the only thing I ate that wasn't pizza was 1/2 a plate of leftover cashew chicken for early breakfast on Sunday and a bagel, lox & egg brunch later that day.

I don't go to the city too often, but I have been more times than I can count. This was the first time that I wasn't ready to leave. This is the first time that I can't wait to get back.