This place is straight New York, right down to the cashier’s accents. Of course, it has some Houston pride in there, too. There’s an apron autographed by all the Houston Texans, and a wall full of dollar bills that people bring in from all over the place for good luck.
My cousin and his girlfriend love this place and are regulars. My cousin’s girlfriend took my grandmother and I here, and we split two pizzas. We got my grandmother’s favorite, pineapple and bacon, which was good, but the plain pie really outshone it. There was lots of gooey cheese falling everywhere when I went to get a slice, which made for an excellent dinner but terrible photos. C’est la vie. As I very seriously pointed out to my father when I was a kid, if food is messy, it’s most likely good.