I have a lot of followers on Twitter. Okay, about 1100, but I’m not gloating. Okay, I am. I get a lot of recommendations, but one that ...

Artichoke Basille


 I have a lot of followers on Twitter. Okay, about 1100, but I’m not gloating. Okay, I am. I get a lot of recommendations, but one that comes across my page often is Artichoke Basille’s Pizza.

I usually get these recommendations at 4am, and they usually involve a lot of bad grammar and a lot of words from a really bad rap song by hipsters from Ohio. These tweets are kind of like a drunken text message that doesn’t lead to sex, which only means one thing: after sloshing out of a bar/club they head over and get a slice. When you’re drunk, even broken, herpes infested glass tastes good.  I’ve already taken drunken restaurant advice once and that only led me to that shit hole POOP   POP Burger. But, much like every other situation in my life, I never learn my lesson. So one night, I was slightly buzzed and looking for a good slice. I figured since I was in the area, I might as well see what the culinary hype beasts were talking about and made my way over to Artichoke. 

Artichoke is located on 17th Street and 10th Avenue. As you walk in you see a large bar (that I’m guessing only serves beer), a few seats and a to-go spot in the back. I had a hard time trying to figure out where the line started because some cunt muscle tourists were waiting to use the bathroom. I glanced over and saw a tempting margarita slice, and what I thought was a white slice, but dude bro behind the counter told me it was an artichoke slice. Ding ding! Give me one of those and a margarita, please.


The Margarita slice ($5): Now, this isn’t your average margarita slice. It was big and bulky. It seemed like the kind of slice you’d get in Waco, Texas. A heavy glob of tomato sauce and cheese spread onto a thick, doughy-looking crust. I was wondering if they had a forklift in the back to help me lift this slice into my mouth. It was crunchy and chewy; a good sign. The sauce was perfect; a little sweet, but right on.


The Artichoke slice ($5): A fresh, right out of the oven thick crust slice, which looks like it was topped with mozzarella and ricotta and a few burnt cheese marks. Now, I don’t know about you, but burnt cheese marks on a slice of pizza are a good sign in my book. A few bites in and I became a believer. This was nothing like I’ve ever tasted in my 30 years on this planet of eating New York City Pizza. Crunchy, chewy, salty, creamy supremacy lay in front of me on a paper plate. It was like like vaginal juices of a goddess dripped down from upon the heavens and had landed on my pizza.

 

New York City is full of culinary hype; from pop-up restaurants, to pizza in a cone, to kid food critics. I don’t know about you, but when I was in the 5th grade, most kids ate glue. I thought Artichoke would fall into this hype but they proved me wrong. I am now a devoted follower of Artichoke Basille’s Pizza. By the way, I’ve had an artichoke slice everyday for the past week.


Artichoke Pizza and Bar ( 3 locations )
114 10th Ave • New York, NY 
www.artichokepizza.com
212-792-9200

1 comment:

  1. Artichoke Pizza is boss but did you really have to bring vaginal secretions into this? geez...

    I had a similar experience.. http://food.appetude.com/pizza/artichoke-pizza-artichoke-basilles/

    ;)

    ReplyDelete