One of the last places you would look for a good pizza place is in the strip mall attached to a gas station. But that’s exactly where Times Square Bistro & Pizzeria is located. Snuggled between a Mobil and a liquor store (a few blocks from the Allen-Bradley Clock Tower), Time Square’s main goal is the quick by-the-slice type service. But don’t write them off as a strictly slice place; there are a few other surprises in this strip mall pizzeria.
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There’s an old adage that goes something like, “Use it, or lose it.” 

That statement is not only applicable to weightlifting and the male penis, but also to one’s proximity to quality late night pizza joints in the Fox Cities. When drinking on College Avenue in Appleton, Sal’s Pizza should be used.

Located in the shadow of Anduzzi’s, and directly across from Wet — that shitty night club where Nick Barnett pushed down some lady — its location leaves something to be desired. A frame of reference for those not familiar with the Fox Valley: It’s smack dab in the Appleton equal of Milwaukee’s Water Street between Juneau and Kilborn, the Madison equivalent of wherever that bar is where that wheelchair-bound little person trolls for fresh dick, the Eau Claire version of … Eau Claire. 

But despite the shitshow surrounding Sal’s, the pizza is worth stumbling the gauntlet of pavement puke, off key street performers, and Appleton Police after last call. 
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http://www.williamsburgnypizza.com/
649 GRAND STREET
BROOKLYN, NY 11211
(Manhattan Ave. & Leonard Street)

Going back to New York was exciting. Going back to Williamsburg was equally exciting. Despite seeing the most ridiculous looking kids as soon as we got onto Metropolitan I was excited to be able to eat at some of my favorite places, San Loco, Relish, Taco Chulo, and Jerry’s Pizza. Just kidding. I’d never heard of Jerry’s Pizza before.

Red Knife Lottery and I were on the hunt for pizza. My previous journey to Tony’s was a solo mission and Ashley “wanted fucking pizza.” We met up with friends Atlas Moth (who got a burger named after them at Kumas) outside of Union Pool where they were playing later that night. Nobody was familiar with the area except myself and instead of giving some sort of direction we walked around basically aimless. After a good 10 or so blocks getting out of Williamsburg and slowly making our way into Greenpoint we stumbled across a Papa Johns and made a lot of jokes. Then, another block later, we discovered Jerry’s across the street.
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I used to have a long-running argument with an ex-friend about how, while pizza as we know it may have been “created” in America, it wasn’t inaccurate to call it Italian, because it was the Italian immigrants who made it here, not those dirty potato eating Irish. But he was stupid, so he said it didn’t matter that Italians in America made it, it was only American cuisine. Apparently his definition of what makes food of a certain culture is similar to how South American countries view territory disputes (look that shit up, I don’t have time to explain that metaphor here).

Why did I bring up a fight I had with a douche I don’t even talk to any more? Well, because Pizza di Roma, one of the less reputable pizza joints on Madison’s State Street, unlike about every other pizza place in Madison save Paisan’s, is 100% about referencing Italy. I mean, they’ve got Roma in the fucking name. Plus a prerequisite to working there seems to be that you have to be Italian (or at least Mexican) and have a love of hair oil and Italian soccer team t-shirts. Which probably makes Pizza di Roma the most authentic pizza joint in all of Madison. That is if you have a logical definition of what makes for “authentic” Italian pizza. Read more »