Into the Boroughs: Harriet the Spy, Pizza Edition

Arugula and Parmesan Pizza -- Graziella's, Brooklyn, NY

Graziella's

As previously mentioned, Di Fara lost their privileges regarding having us rate their allegedly 5 star pizza with a poorly timed "oven malfunction."  Because by the time we arrived back at their subway station from Brighton Beach, the door to the place was STILL not open, and there was a line stretching halfway down the block.

Watching the Di Fara Metal Grates from the Safety of a Shaded Subway Platform

And heaven forbid we wait in any line whatsoever.  It is perhaps time for Di Fara to invest in a Disney World-esque FastPass system.

Your Wait Time Is....

Still in the mood for pizza, but without the patience to wait for one at the restaurant right in front of us, Ginger discovers that Graziella's, home of Ted Allen's chosen Best Thing I Ever Ate arugula and parmesan PIZZA, is a mere 15 minute walk from a Q-line stop.  Could this Brooklyn adventure be saved yet?

Yeah, probably not.  Remember, we are a crabby people.

And Plus, This is Our Life Philosophy

Vodka quickly secures us a reservation at Graziella's while we are en route, under the supposition that all pizza places in Brooklyn feature crowds with whom we won't want to deal.

OpenTable Reservations = Our Own Personal Version of a FastPass

Luckily for us, Graziella's is apparently not one of the chosen ones, as by the time we arrive for our 2:00pm hastily made reservation, we are two of five customers in the entire place.

Which is just the way we like it.

Empty Chairs and Empty Tables

We ask for a table on the roof deck, and not only because children under 12 aren't permitted up there ("Well, isn't that a lovely bonus").

Although If They Don't Trust Children to Not Fall Off the Roof, We're Not Sure They Should Trust Our Clumsy Selves

We are told to choose whatever table we like, and so we pick one under a shady umbrella... directly next to the roof deck's only other patron.

Said Table Also Features a Gigantic Pole in the Middle Which Prevents Us from Looking at Each Other

"Just call us Little Owl right now," Ginger mumbles, though in our defense, our choice seat is one of only two other tables featuring an umbrella, and either of them would have placed us within spitting distance of the other customer.  After all, she's the one who chose to sit in the middle of the roof, rather than in a dark corner, which is always our top choice.  So obviously, the fact that she will now have to listen to our inane conversation is HER fault.

Blame the Victim

First things first, we get ourselves two hefty glasses of wine, as it is now hours past our preferred day-drinking kickoff time.

Two Large Pours, Please, and Make It Snappy

While we peruse the menu, it becomes abundantly clear why there are so many tables open on the roof deck -- the place provides a front row seat to the loudest church sermon ever being broadcast from next door.  We manage to talk over the various blessings enough to order both the arugula and parmesan pizza, along with another pizza with caramelized onions and mushrooms.  ("Do we want small or large?" "There are only two of us -- you want to get two LARGE pizzas?!").

Good Thing We Didn't Go for the Larges....

Excuse Our Over-Consumption, Graziella's -- All We've Had to Eat Today is Stale Cake 

As we sip our wine, Ginger tries to regale Vodka about the injustice of the fact that there isn't a bread basket on our table, a rant Vodka is clearly not paying attention to.

"Sorry, I'm just taking notes," she finally explains.

"You say that as if that is a normal excuse in the real world," Ginger points out.  "You're like Harriet the Spy."

If Harriet Did Nothing But Eat and Drink All Day

Nearly before Vodka can jot down this gem of an exchange, our pizzas arrive, and we stare at the pile of fresh arugula skeptically.

What Is the Meaning of All of This GREENERY?

"You know, I really hate arugula," Vodka says.

"We should've ordered the arugula and parmesan pizza, hold the arugula," Ginger agrees.

Yes, Hi, Could Someone Come Serve Us? We Don't Know How to Slice This Thing

While Vodka takes at least three dozen photos of the proceedings, Ginger all but polishes off her first slice of Ted Allen's Best Thing I Ever Ate pick.

It's Scary That Ginger Is Actually the MORE Patient of the Two of Us

"Well?  How is it?" Vodka asks.

"Meh," Ginger responds with a shrug.  Before tasting her own, Vodka dumps some salt onto her slice ("You should live in Houston.  My mom says they salt Chinese food there."  "I salt Chinese food."). 

Let's Quadruple Our Daily Recommended Dose of Sodium, Shall We?

The pizza -- the pizza which we have traipsed over half of Brooklyn and to two different pizzerias in order to eat -- is good enough.  The arugula is blessedly rather muted in flavor, and the crust, while extremely thin, isn't crunchy (we hate crunchy crust).  In fact, the dough is somehow pita-like in texture, which is not a bad thing -- it is just rather... odd.

We're Going to Start a New Television Program Called 'Things We Ate That Were Fine'

We wolf down both pizzas, along with two glasses of wine each, at rapid-fire pace, undeterred even when a huge glob of cheese is found (by our own doing) floating in Vodka's chardonnay ("There is parmesan in my wine, of note").

A True Wine and Cheese Mash-Up

In truth, we are essentially so happy to be a) sitting, b) eating, and c) drinking, that we're rather jolly about the whole experience.

After All, They DID Give Us Carbs and Wine -- What More Should We Want?

And then the bill comes, and an 18% tip is pre-added in.

Is It Because We Made Them Walk Up and Down a Staircase?!

Um, is Fort Greene, Brooklyn, the new Times Square?!  What is the meaning of this madness?

Clearly, the Creepy Doll Who Hangs Out by the Cash Register Is Behind This

Now, would we have given an 18% tip or higher anyway?  Yes.  Believe it or not, as long as things don't come to major blows with the waitstaff, we are rather generous tippers.  But the principle of the fact that Graziella's would add this in preemptively has put us in a mood.

A mood that has resulted in our inability to do math.

How Ginger's Bill Looked for a Solid Ten Minutes

It seems that despite the fact that Graziella's has dictated what we should tip, when it comes down to signing our actual credit card bills, they have not deigned to do the addition for us.  And based on our current two-pizza-and-two-glasses-of-wine-in state, this happenstance has us flummoxed so completely that our respective second grade math teachers should be ashamed.

This Is Why We Majored in Food and Not Mathematics

We eventually manage to utilize our elementary school math skills and add up the totals before stumbling back down the stairs and out onto the sidewalks of Brooklyn, feelings of unwarranted accomplishment in our chests.

Or, as our friends at the church next door would say, "Glory, hallelujah!"

Graziella's Arugula and Parmesan Pizza: 3 stars

Off the Map: It's Our Trip to the Big City!

Roasted Chanterelles Truffle Cheese Pizza -- Serious Pie, Seattle, WA
Serious Pie

It seems as though Tom Douglas is to Seattle what Jose Garces is to Philadelphia and Jose Andres is to Washington, DC.  At least, that’s what we’re hoping, as Best Thing I Ever Ate is compelling us to go to three of his restaurants, all within moments of each other.

This Best Be Better Than the Crab Cake, Cause Vodka's Not in the Mood for Any More Funny Business

After a not-so-successful foray to Dahlia Lounge, Vodka, Chianti, and Chianti's two friends walk down the block to Serious Pie to indulge in some roasted chanterelle truffle cheese pizza, as recommended by Tyler Florence on the PIZZA episode of the show.  

Please Note the Period at the End of the Title. It Proves Just How Serious They Are

We are led to our (communal) table, and Vodka rolls her eyes to the ceiling instantly.

"Ugh, communal," she mumbles.  "It's like Chicago all over again."

Chianti and friends are not nearly as put off by this effort to force the customers into socialization, and we set about ordering a bottle of wine.

"Do they have chianti?" Chianti (predictably) pipes up.

"Why is that wine even your favorite?" Vodka asks.  "Is it the cheapest?"

Chianti pretends to be offended by this sentiment just long enough to confirm that yes, it most likely is the most frugal of the reds, and we order a bottle of the stuff to split.  

Dollar Store Wine

Then, in a fit of overconsumption, we order three pizzas: 2 of the mushroom and truffle cheese variety, and 1 with Penn Cove clams, house pancetta, and chilies.  

Another Telling Scene from Overeaters Anonymous

Additionally, everyone but the so-called "vegetarian," Chianti, is swayed by the waitress's description of the day's special, the bone marrow.

Heads, Shoulders, Knees and Bones, Knees and Bones

When said marrow arrives, an older gentleman at the next table witnesses Vodka taking pictures of the enterprise, and he moseys over to offer his services as our photographer.  Agreeing to this gesture quickly proves to be the worst decision ever made, as, after what has to be at least 12 minutes and a plethora of failed camera flashes, we have yet to secure a single picture with the four of us in the same frame.  As we virtually beg him to please give up the fight and hand back the camera, he calls out, with no shred of irony, "It's your trip to the big city, huh?"

Oh, for the love....

It's Like Being Told We Look Like We're from Milwaukee All Over Again!

At this point, Vodka tenses every muscle in her body in an effort not to tackle him so she can go back to being the culinary Ansel Adams, and when he eventually hands back the camera, we finally resume our meal.

And By "Resume Our Meal," We Mean "Vodka Resumes Taking Pictures of It"

Being Vodka's first experience with bone marrow, she finds it quite lovely, if difficult to consume.  Admittedly, part of her appeal with the stuff centers around the fact that Serious Pie has provided piles of flavored salt with which we can season the marrow, and Vodka has never met a salt she didn't like.

Really, Vodka's Not So Hard to Please: Just Put Salt on EVERYTHING

Moving onto the pizza, the clam variety is interesting in its uniqueness.  Topped with a hearty portion of clam meat, a hint of pancetta, and a large smattering of parmesan cheese, the crust is just pliable and chewy enough to bring the whole thing together.  Overall, the clam pizza is a delightful surprise.

We Like Anything Smothered in Cheese

Pop-Up Crust

While the Best Thing I Ever Ate truffle pizza is an epic disappointment.

As previously mentioned, Chianti has a rather large obsession with all truffle flavors, so drool is practically escaping from the corners of her lips by the time she places the first slice in her mouth.

"Well?" Vodka asks.

Silence.

Silence, as we know, is never a good sign.

When It Comes to Food Judgments, Silence Is NOT Golden

Vodka takes her own taste and declares in a matter of seconds, "Salt.  We need some major salt over here."  

Hurry, It's an Emergency

Indeed, the pizza, while certainly not bad, is bland in the extreme.  Somehow, the combination of mushroom, cheese, truffle, and bread -- all ingredients that we adore -- add up to a completely underwhelming pizza.  

The Classic "Good on Paper" Pizza

The crust and dough itself is thinner and crisper than its clam counterpart, and similar in consistency and look to the pizzettes at Socca in Chicago.  The mushrooms may have been better executed had they been cut into smaller pieces, and the whole thing is sorely lacking in cheese.  Unlike the more-than-visible parmesan on the clam version, this pizza's cheese seems to have melted away into neverland. 

Dear Oodles of Cheese, Come Out, Come Out, Wherever You Are

So after two visits to his establishments, Tom Douglas is falling squarely into the "mediocre" category of Vodka's mind -- a circumstance that is disappointing considering, after all, that it's her "trip to the big city" of Seattle.

Serious Pie's Roasted Chanterelles Truffle Cheese Pizza: 3 stars

Off the Map: We'll Have a Medium Pizza - We Recommend the Small

Sausage Patty Style Pizza -- Gino's East of Chicago, Chicago, IL
Gino's East of Chicago

And for the first time in Chicago, we get ourselves legitimately tipsy.  And all is then right (well, better) with the world.

Who Needs Valium When You Have Cocktails and Views?

After being thwarted out of drinking at the Hancock Building's Signature Lounge the night before, we realize the flaw in our previous plan: we are day drinkers.  We cannot drink at night, what with all those other boozers crowding up our barstools.  For this reason, we head back to Signature Lounge at 11:30 the following morning, with nary an elevator line to be found.

Concrete Proof That IT'S NOT EVEN NOON SOMEWHERE

Cozying up to two seats overlooking the western Chicago skyline, we settle in for a solid two hours of cocktailing it up.

And true to form, we are never happier.

Was That So Hard, Chicago? Just Hand Over the Booze Before Lunchtime, and Nobody Gets Hurt

It is in this jovial state that we stumble back out onto Michigan Avenue to make our way to our final stop of this Best Thing I Ever Ate adventure: Gino's East of Chicago.  Despite the above-80-degree temperatures and hoards of slow walkers, our high altitude alcohol intake keeps us relatively appeased until we actually reach Gino's East.  There, our affability comes to a screeching halt because we spot our most dreaded sight: a line.

What is this, Bubba Gump Shrimp?!

Which Is Our Way of Saying We HATE Lines

While Ginger waits in line and Vodka waits across the street (the sun's vicious rays are to blame), we slowly drag our feet towards the entrance.  Apparently, more people than just us have been sent here to consume Duff Goldman's chosen Best Thing I Ever Ate PIZZA dish, the sausage patty style pizza.  By the time we make it inside (which in reality does not take very long, but we are sans patience), our early morning pastry indulgence has been fully digested and we are ravenous.  Perusing the menu, we settle on one medium-sized pizza, which promises three slices for each of us.  When we relate our choice to our waitress, she looks us up and down and states, "We recommend a small."

Never before have our overeating capabilities been questioned in such a direct way.

This Best Fill Us Up, Or There Will Be Trouble

When we are advised that the pizza will take at least forty-five minutes to cook, we decide that we will certainly die of starvation before then and order a Tuscan Harvest Salad to tide us over.  Unfortunately, said salad comes with the most vile dressing known to man -- it is given the moniker of "raspberry vinaigrette," though in reality, it tastes more like "raspberry chemicals."

There's a Reason Gino's East Is NOT Known For Their Salads

The salad is somewhat improved when we ask for oil and vinegar to substitute for the berry monstrosity, though we are slowly getting tired of waiting for our pizza.

And waiting and waiting.

PS Thanks For Essentially Plopping One Large Apple on Top of Our Greens. Stellar Knife Skills

We are aware that Chicago-style deep dish pizzas take much longer to cook than regular pizzas, but for goodness sake -- over an hour after we have sat down, there is STILL no pizza in front of us (imagine what would have happened had we ordered a medium).

This Is How We Feel, Only Picture the "Hunger" Version

Table after table of diners who had arrived after us receive their pie, and we become increasingly indignant, tapping our fingers and bouncing our knees and greeting the pizza's eventual arrival with next to no fanfare.

Perhaps the Staff Was Too Busy Perfecting Their Graffiti Skills to Actually, You Know, COOK

Our waitress attempts to cut our pie into four slices, which quickly proves to be an impossible endeavor.  Unlike a normal pizza, in which the cheese, sauce, meat, and dough all meld together into one, Gino's is downright falling apart.  The cheese seeps out from the bottom, pulling the sausage patty and sauce along with it, and we are in desperate need of bibs.

A Full Hour and This Is the Best You Came Up With?

Once we get over this foray into messiness, we resign to the fact that the pizza is fairly good (if possibly tastier than we would normally think because only because we are ravenous).

Actually, That's Not "Possible" - It's a Fact

Each of the toppings is plentiful, and though they cannot stick together for the life of them, we have to admit that they are pleasing separately.  Well, except for a couple of things:

The sausage, which has been flattened out like a pancake to fit within the pie rather than crumbled on top, is rather gray in appearance, which is off-putting aesthetically if not in flavor (though considering we also hated the color of the chorizo, perhaps we have a thing against sausage color palates).

Mmm, Nothing Like Gray Meat In the Afternoon

And even worse, we are not a fan of Gino's dough -- it is sunshine yellow and crumbly dry, and while we know they are famous for its distinction, we're failing to see the appeal.

Corn Bread-Colored Crust

And with that, we wrap up our time in Chicago, departing the city a couple of pizzas and hot dogs fatter than we arrived.  And while the city was clearly not a true debacle in flavor, we believe it failed to live up to its outstanding culinary reputation.  Whether this is the fault of poor Food Network choices, passive aggressive waitstaff, or a proliferation of weak cocktails is unclear.

But we're betting our money on the cocktails.

Gino's East of Chicago Sausage Patty Style Pizza: 4 stars