I obviously have been neglecting things here. To be honest, I pretty much plan to until sometime after January 20. No excuses, no apologies, just a whole lot of eggplant-colored ribbon, personalized M&Ms, and menu cards to sift through and not ruin before next Sunday.
In the meantime, Kimmy And has graciously volunteered her guest blogging services. Read on for an account of her trek to our fine borough.
After well over a year living in this fine food orgy of a city, some friends and I finally made the trek to Grimaldi's Pizzeria one Sunday afternoon. Nothing like a walk over the Brooklyn Bridge to work up a good appetite and an hour-long wait in the cold to push you over the line into ravenous hunger. Each time the door swung open, we were greeted with a small burst of intoxicating pizza smell. Finally, the hard-working man in charge of the line ushered us in.
You really get to know your fellow diners here, sitting practically elbow to elbow in a mid-sized room of red and white checkered tables. For the first few minutes we could do nothing but gaze longingly at the pizzas on nearby tables. Then we contemplated the toppings list and decided unanimously on mushroom, crushed tomato, and ricotta cheese. No one was even distracted by the calzone option - we were here for pizza, and pizza we would have.
The kitchen area is wide open, so we got an up-close look at the creation of these masterpieces before they slid into the giant coal-burning oven. The raw ingredients spread about the prep area pretty much blew our minds with how unbelievably fresh and delicious they looked. This picture unfortunately does no justice to the endless half-moons of mozzarella, the huge, gorgeous mushrooms, the piles of freshly grated parmesan.
When the pizza arrived not terribly long after, you could taste what a difference good ingredients make. Ambrosia. I literally chewed piece after piece with my eyes half closed in enjoyment. I'm not even a basil person usually, but I took exception in this case. The crust was doughy and supported the toppings well. The sauce and cheese melded into one delicious substance that I could gladly eat forever. I might have liked a little more mushroom, but I would never question the proportions chosen by these artisans.
After quickly and enthusiastically decimating our large pie, we of course wanted another. However, we decided to quit while we were ahead and head just down the street to the Brooklyn Ice Cream Factory for dessert. As we stepped outside, the line had grown even longer, but we would never again question whether it was worth the wait.
19 Old Fulton St